Farewell to Norway. 105 



On a little jutting-out point close by us was a large red 

 building, with white door frames, of a very homelike 

 appearance. It was indeed a Norwegian warehouse 

 which Sibiriakoff had imported from Finmarken. But 

 here the water was shallow, and we had to proceed 

 carefully for fear of running aground. We kept heaving 

 the lead incessantly we had 5 fathoms of water, and 

 then 4, then not much more than we needed, and then it 

 shelved to a little over 3 fathoms. This was rather too 

 close work, so we stood out again a bit to wait till we 

 got a little nearer the place before drawing in to the 

 shore. 



A boat was now seen slowly approaching from the 

 land. A man of middle height, with an open kindly face 

 and reddish beard, came on board. He might have been 

 a Norwegian from his appearance. I went to meet him, 

 and asked him in German if he was Trontheim. Yes, he 

 was. After him there came a number of strange figures 

 clad in heavy robes of reindeer skin, which nearly touched 

 the deck. On their heads they wore peculiar "baschlik"- 

 like caps of reincalf skin, beneath which strongly-marked 

 bearded faces showed forth, such as might well have 

 belonged to old Norwegian Vikings. The whole scene, 



o o o 



indeed, called up in my mind a picture of the Viking- 

 Age, of expeditions to Gardarike and Bjarmeland. 

 They were fine stalwart-looking fellows, these Russian 

 traders, who barter with the natives, giving them brandy 

 in exchange for bearskins, sealskins, and other valuables, 



