

Farewell to Norway. 109 



must go and see the monastery " Skit," as it was called 

 -where the six monks had lived, or rather, died, from 

 what people said was scurvy, probably helped out by 

 alcohol. It lay over against the new church, and 

 resembled an ordinary low Russian timber house. The 

 priest and his assistants were living there now, and had 

 asked Trontheim to take up his quarters with them. 

 Trontheim, therefore, invited us in, and we soon found 

 ourselves in a couple of comfortable log-built rooms with 

 open fire-places like our Norwegian "peis." 



After this we proceeded to the dog-camp, which was 

 situated on a plain at some distance from the houses and 

 tents. As we approached it the howling and barking 

 kept getting worse and worse. When a short distance 

 off, we were surprised to see a Norwegian flag on the 

 top of a pole. Trontheim's face beamed with joy as our 

 eyes fell on it. It was, he said, under the same flag as 

 our expedition that his had been undertaken. There 

 stood the dogs tied up, making a deafening clamour. 

 Many of them appeared to be well-bred animals long- 

 haired, snow-white, with up-standing ears and pointed 

 muzzles. With their gentle, good-natured looking faces 

 they at once ingratiated themselves in our affections. 

 Some of them more resembled a fox, and had shorter 

 coats, while others were black or spotted. Evidently they 

 were of different races, and some of them betrayed 

 by their drooping ears a strong admixture of European 

 blood. After having duly admired the ravenous 



