268 NORWAY. 



a drizzle of rain makes the deck sloppy. The great 

 island mountains are there, no doubt, but they are dis- 

 mally, gloomily grand. The rocky islets are there too ; 

 but they look uncomfortable, and seem as if they would 

 fain hide their heads hi the troubled sea, in order to 

 escape the gloom of the upper world. 



The traveller groans and brushes away the raindrops 

 that hang from the point of his lugubrious nose. If, in 

 the eccentricity of despair, he should retire to the cabin, 

 draw forth his note-book, and apply his stiffened fingers 

 and chilled intellect to the task of composition, what does 

 he write ? " Detestable weather. Beauty of scenery 

 absurdly overrated. Savage enough it is, truly ; would 

 that I were not in a like condition." Thus difference of 

 opinion arises, and thus the nun- travelling public is 

 puzzled in its mind by the conflicting statements of men 

 of unimpeachable veracity. 



Through this island-world we sailed until the great 

 mountain ranges of the interior became clearly visible, 

 and as we gazed into the deep fiords we felt that that 

 boldness and ruggedness so eminently characteristic of 

 the old Norse vikings must have been fostered, if not 

 created, by the scenery of their fatherland. 



As we gazed and pondered, a huge old-fashioned ship 

 came out suddenly from behind an island, as if to increase 

 the archaic character of the scenery. There it was, un- 

 doubtedly (and there it may be seen every day), with the 

 game high stempost as the galleys of old, only wanting a 

 curve at the top and a dragon's head to make it complete, 



