CHAPTER VII
HOME FROM THE SAETER
Summer, with its light nights and brilliant days, comes rapidly to fullpower on the mountains in Norway. The season is brief but intense.
It begins with a creeping of light green over the gentle slopes andunending marshes, and a trickling of light green down around each_tue_, or little mound of earth covered with moss and tiny berryplants. Ptarmigans roam about in solitary pairs, murmuring when any onecomes too near their nests; gnats and horseflies buzz through the air;and cows, with tails set straight up, scamper friskily about, trying toescape the irritating stings.
Over everything lies a thick, warm, dark-blue haze, hindering a freeoutlook.
But soon come the blueberries, the marsh wool or cotton grass, andlater the cloudberries; and on some fine day when the mother ptarmigansgo out to walk, peeping sounds are heard around them, here, there, andeverywhere. The mother birds scold more than ever, now that their youngones are whirling like so many feathery balls a yard or more upward,and two or three yards forward, and then tumbling down into the heatheragain, head foremost. By this time the cows roam about quietly andmeditatively over the mountain, seeking the juiciest, best-flavoredherbage to nibble; the warm haze melts away and the air becomes sosparklingly clear that mountain peaks miles distant are as delicatelyand sharply outlined as the nearest little mound. Then the cloudberryblossoms fall, and soon the marshes grow yellow and red, the tinyblossoms of the heather color all the knolls and rocky places, thegreenness vanishes, and over the patches of white reindeer moss, whichshine out like snow here and there on the mountain, comes a blush ofred and a tinge of brown. Autumn is now drawing near.
Much of the time the sun shines brightly, and when it does, howglorious to be the herder of a flock!
But there come days also when the fog spreads itself like a close grayblanket, under which the ground, with its mounds and bushes andheather, creeps stealthily, disappearing a few yards away. And out ofthe fog comes a fine, mist-like rain, which deposits itself in tinygray beads on every blade and every pine needle, so that wherever anyone goes there is a little sprinkling of water.
In such weather it is far from pleasant to be in charge of a flock. Ifthe animals move forward quietly, the herder must seek shelter underevery bush, with a piece of sacking over his shoulders to shield himfrom the wet. But it is far more likely that he will be obliged to runabout, with the water squeezing in and out of his shoes, trying to keeptrack of his animals; for in weather like this the mushrooms spring upplentifully and the animals scatter eagerly in all directions to findthem, scorning other food when these may be obtained. Sometimes whenthe herder is speeding along the edge of the marsh, a pair of large,powerful cranes, who are on their journey south, will loom suddenlybefore him out of the fog. This startles him greatly, for the cranesseem to the herder much larger than they really are. They look like acouple of great sheep with wings on.
Later in the season comes a morning when all is glistening white. Alittle snow has fallen during the night,--not enough to last, however;it melts away as the day goes on. But after this the animals no longerlike to go up on the higher parts of the mountain. The cows standlowing at the gate of the saeter inclosure; they know that sooner orlater they will be allowed to slip in there to enjoy the last of themountain's good grazing. The goats look inquiringly backward as theyare let out of the fold. Summer is over. Every one longs to go downagain to the home farm.
At last a day comes when the gate is opened and the cows rush into thesaeter inclosure. They know now that they will not have to go up on thebare mountain again this year. Then the farm hands come up with packhorses, and other horses that have been running wild on the mountainall summer are found and taken home. The packs are tied up; there is agreat washing, a clearing away of rubbish and putting things in orderfor the next summer, and at last _Bufar_ day, the long-expected day ofreturning to the home farm, arrives.
* * * * *
On Bufar day Lisbeth Longfrock stood up on the ridge of theturf-covered cow-house roof, taking a final look at the surroundingscene. She was all ready for the journey. Her lunch bag was on herback, her birch-bark hat on her head, and the goat horn which Peter hadgiven her hung on a string around her neck. In her hand she carried astout stick. Within the saeter inclosure the cows and smaller animalswere roving back and forth from fence to fence impatiently. They knewthat Bufar day had come, for along the wall of the saeter hut, in a row,stood the horses' packs, filled with butter tubs, cheese tubs, andcheese boxes; and tied to the fence were the horses themselves. All ofthese had pack saddles on, except the military horse, which stoodforemost among them, bearing a woman's saddle. The farm hands stoodoutside, too, smoking their pipes. They were all ready, and were onlywaiting for the milkmaid, who was inside the hut making the last batchof cheese from the morning's milk, which she could not allow to bewasted.
While Lisbeth was standing on the ridge of the cow house Ole and Petercame bobbing along past the fence of the fold. They were not soboisterous as usual to-day, and stopped at the gate, looking at Lisbethwithout saying a word at first. Then Peter asked, "Are you going backto the farm to-day, Lisbeth?"
"Yes, I am all ready."
With one impulse Lisbeth and the boys gazed over the mountain'sfamiliar expanse.
"The mountain begins to look barren now," said Peter; "but I shall behere a week longer."
"So long as that?" said Lisbeth. "And you, Ole?"
"I am going day after to-morrow."
All three were silent again for a while. Then Lisbeth said: "I supposeI must go with the others now. They surely must be ready."
She descended from the roof and went over to where the boys were. Theconversation came to a standstill again; they could not think ofanything to say. Finally Peter spoke.
"Are you coming again next summer, Lisbeth?"
"Yes, if Kjersti Hoel is pleased with me; but that can hardly beexpected, since I am going home without Crookhorn."
"It would take a horse trainer to look after her," said Ole.
Again there was silence. Then Ole said: "We did not go up to Glory Peakthis summer, to see the spot the king once visited."
"No, we didn't."
"We two boys are coming here again next summer, both of us."
"Perhaps we can go to Glory Peak after all then, even if it is so faraway."
"Yes, we can," said Ole. "And I can tell you a good deal about theking's visit, for my father went with him and drove."
"Drove the king's carriage?"
"No, not the king's; the county magistrate's."
"My father went with him, too," said Peter, "and drove; so I can tellabout it as well as you."
"Yes, but whose carriage did he drive? A homely old woman's!"
"But that homely old woman was next in rank to the queen. She was theone who went off to walk with the queen at the foot of Glory Peak."
Just then came a call for Lisbeth. She hesitated a moment, thenstretched out her little hand and said: "Good-by. May you both farewell. Thanks for this summer."
"Thanks to you for the same," said Ole. "We are to meet again, then,next summer?"
"Yes."
"May you fare well," said Peter.
He stood holding her hand awhile; then, thinking he ought to saysomething more, he added, "I will greet Jacob from you, Lisbeth."
After that the boys vanished along the fence as noiselessly as they hadcome.
* * * * *
Inside the saeter inclosure the farm hands were putting the packs on thehorses, and the military horse had been led to the gate. Lisbeth raninto the inclosure, drove her animals together and counted them,certainly for the tenth time that day. Soon everything stood ready forthe homeward march.
The milkmaid appeared in the doorway, clad in her Sunday best, as onthe day she came. She closed the saeter door with a bang, turned thelarge key solemnly in the lock, took it out and put it in her po
cket.That key she would not intrust to any one else; she wanted to deliverit to Kjersti Hoel with her own hand. After trying the door vigorouslyto be sure that it was securely locked, she went to the window andlooked in to assure herself that everything was in order and the fireentirely out. Then, going over to the military horse, she climbed intothe saddle. One of the farm hands opened the gate for her as if she hadbeen a queen, and out she rode.
After her followed the pack horses, one by one, and the cows in thesame order as when they came up,--the bell cow, Brindle, and the wholelong line. Behind the cows came the smaller animals, and, last of all,Lisbeth Longfrock with a stick in her hand, her birch-bark hat on herhead, and her lunch bag on her back.
Lisbeth turned and looked at the scene she was leaving. There lay thesaeter, desolate now. The mountain, too, appeared lonely and forsaken.Of course she, like all the others, had longed for home during theselast days; but it was strange, after all, for her to be going away fromeverything up here. A little of the same feeling she had had whenleaving Peerout Castle crept over her. How singular that she shouldhappen to recall that sad time just at this moment! She had not thoughtof it at all since coming up on the mountain,--not once during thewhole long summer.
Nor would she think of it now; there were other and happier things toremember. God be praised, all had gone well at the saeter, and the wholeprocession was on its way home. She was taking her animals safelyback,--all except Crookhorn. Of her she had seen nothing since that daywhen the boys had tried to tame her; but she had heard that far off onthe mountain a big goat went about with a herd of horses.
* * * * *
All day long the great procession went on its way over the mountain insteady, plodding fashion. The animals were fatter and heavier than inthe spring; they trod the hills with a brisker and firmer step, andnone showed any sign of being tired or lagging behind. The milkmaid wasrosy-cheeked and plump ("Butterpack" she was always called in theautumn). As she and Lisbeth looked at the procession, one from thefront and the other from the rear, they agreed in thinking that theanimals, as well as the butter and cheese, were such as they need notbe ashamed to take home to Kjersti Hoel.
Evening was drawing near, when suddenly the road pitched down over theedge of the mountain, the valley began to open before them, and theycould even catch a glimpse of the slope on the other side. Every onelooked over there, but all that could be seen as yet was a strip alongthe uppermost edge. The only one to distinguish a house upon the stripwas Lisbeth Longfrock. Away up and off to one side she saw the settingsun glittering on a little pane of glass in a low gray hut. That hutwas Peerout Castle.
Then all at once they came out upon the open mountain side, and thewhole valley lay before them, broad and peaceful, with its yellowfields and stacks of grain, its green spaces, and its slope of birchtrees flaming in yellow, with here and there a red mountain ash amongthem. And over across they spied Hoel,--large, substantial, and wellcared for,--with its broad, shining windows and its general air ofcomfort. Smoke was issuing from its chimney,--such an inviting,coffee-suggesting, welcoming smoke! Kjersti had probably hung thecoffee kettle over the fire already, so as to receive them in asuitable manner.
The whole procession now began to show more life. Every member of itknew that Kjersti Hoel stood over there in the window watching the longline as it curved down the open slope. All moved forward more quickly.The horses hurried ahead; the cows began to trot, the bell cow sendingout an eager Moo-oo! across the valley; the bells jingled merrily; andLisbeth Longfrock trilled a vigorous call through her little goat horn.They wanted every one to hear that the great company of animalsbelonging to Hoel Farm was now coming back again.
Thus they hastened down to the bottom of the valley and then up theopposite side. It was not long before they were actually at home.
Kjersti Hoel herself stood at the cow-house door and opened it forthem. The cows recognized her, and each one of them, as they went byher in turn, received a word or a pat on the head; after which, proudand satisfied, they went to their separate stalls,--not a single cowmaking a mistake. They went swiftly, too, for they knew that there wassomething good in the mangers to welcome them. And they neededsomething, surely, for there had not been time to eat anything alongthe road that day.
When the milkmaid had dismounted from her horse Kjersti took her handand said, "Welcome home!" Then Kjersti went over to the door of thesheep barn, opened that also, and counted the goats and sheep as theywent in; and when Lisbeth Longfrock came following in their wake,Kjersti took her hand also and said, "Welcome home!"
"But," faltered Lisbeth, "I have not brought Crookhorn back with me."
"No, I see that you have not; and it is a good thing. Now we shall berid of her capers for a while. You have been a faithful and capablelittle worker, there is no doubt of that. And how you have grown! Why,your long frock is far above your toes now!"
Then the milkmaid and Lisbeth fastened the cows in their stalls, whileKjersti went to watch the unloading of the packs and to look at thetubs and boxes containing the butter and cheese that had been made atthe saeter.
After that Kjersti came to them again and asked them to "Please walkin," exactly as if they were grand strangers. And when they had goneinto the house they were invited into Kjersti's own sitting room, bothLisbeth and the milkmaid. Here the table was set with a welcoming meal,and oh, how delicious the food smelled! There were large hot pancakesas thin as paper, and pease bread, and hot new potatoes,--the finestfeast you can give to people just home from a saeter. And Kjerstiherself poured coffee for them and begged them to help themselves. Thenthey had to give an account of everything that had happened on themountain; to tell about the cows,--which of them had given the mostmilk and which of them had stopped giving; about the sheep, goats, andpigs; and about the butter and cheese that had been made. And thenKjersti praised her two servants for their faithfulness and industry,and the trio rejoiced together over the success of the summer.
That evening when Lisbeth Longfrock again lay stretched out on herlittle bed in her room under the hall stairs and thought back over thesummer and about the mountain, it seemed to her that she had had aglorious time, as delightful as could be thought of; but, all the same,it was pleasant to come home again, too,--especially when one waswelcomed by such an unusually fine woman as Kjersti Hoel.
* * * * *
Autumn was passing away. The leaves had fallen and the trees spread outnaked branches into the cold air. In the fields where grain had grownstood only the poles, now bare and slanting, on which the crops hadbeen stacked. The verdure of the meadows was changed to yellowishbrown.
There was no more food for the animals out of doors, so slaughteringday had come. That is the end of the season for the young herder, foron that day he gives up his responsibility. Thenceforward he is nolonger a person with a special duty; he must be at every one's beck andcall. And when winter comes with its long evenings, when the wood firegleams out over the huge kitchen from the great open fireplace, whilewool is being carded and the spinning wheel whirs, and the farm handsmake brooms out of twigs and whittle thole pins and ax handles, thenmust the herder sit by the pile of twigs and logs at the side of thefireplace and feed the fire so that the rest can see to work while hestudies his lessons.
By the pile of wood in Kjersti Hoel's big kitchen Lisbeth Longfrock hadher place on the long winter evenings. She studied and listened, andheard so many curious things talked about that it seemed as if theevenings were too short and the days too few, in spite of the long,dark Norwegian winter. Before she knew it spring had come again; andwhen she looked down at her long frock she found that the hem reachedno farther than the tops of her ankles.