XL] LET GO THE ANCHOR. 213 



to sea again, and lie to for the night, — a very unpleasant 

 alternative for any one so impatient as I was to reach a port. 

 Just as I was going to give the order, Fitz — who was cer- 

 tainly the Lynceus of the ship's company — espied its black 

 back just peeping up above the tumbling water on our star- 

 board bow. We had hit it off to a yard ! 



In another half-hour we were stealing down in quiet water 

 towards the entrance of the fiord. All this time not a rag 

 of a pilot had appeared ; and it was without any such func- 

 tionary that the schooner swept up next morning between the 

 wooded, grain-laden slopes of the beautiful loch, to Thron- 

 dhjem — the capital of the ancient sea-kings of Norway. 



