1884.] AN OCTOBER WALK IN NORWAY. 113 



AJV OCTOBER WALK IN NORWAY. 



AFJOED-SIDE forest-clad dale is that of Eide, lying at the head 

 of the Graven branch of the famous Hardanger Fjord on the 

 west coast of Norway. Barely more than a mile and a half in 

 length, it stretches back to the northward from the placid reach of 

 water which leads up to it from the main fjord between two of the 

 high mountain ranges which characterize tlie whole of the Norwegian 

 seaboard. The numerous roches moutonncSs to be found in the valley 

 afford ample evidence here, as elsewhere throughout the district, that 

 ages ago a great glacier occupied the place of the present farms of 

 the peasants, pouring down its mighty volume of ice, where now are 

 smiling meadows. Very lovely is this said dale, and as healthful 

 as it is lovely. It is early October, and the stream of tourists has 

 ceased to flow. A delightful calm reigns throughout the valley and 

 its tiny village, and along the picturesque road which leads to the 

 terminus of the Bergen line of railway twenty miles inland. In 

 front of the dozen or so of houses clustered close to the jetty to 

 which the little fjord steamers come twice or thrice a week, two or 

 three fishermen lounge listlesly, every now and then scanning the 

 steel-blue surface of the fjord for the rufHe on the water which 

 accompanies the advent of the sild, the tiny Norwegian herrings 

 which make their way to the head of the fjords in autumn. There 

 is no one in the pretty garden of Sliiland's Hotel, beloved by anglers, 

 and but for a few women in their well-known dark-blue gowns and 

 scarlet bodices, digging potatoes here and there on the few patches 

 of arable land, a dozen or two cows, and perhaps twice as many 

 sheep, there are no signs of life visible in the Vale of Eide. From 

 a heaven of purest, brightest blue the autumn sun shines hotly down. 

 Up the mouutain-sides the morning mists are creeping slowly, 

 dimming the brilKancy of the colouring of the fading foliage here 

 and there, and casting purple shadows on the tranquil fjord. But 

 for the falling leaves and the vivid green of the pastures, it might 

 well be a July instead of an October day. Little wonder that 

 beautiful Eide is one of the most favourite of resting-places of all 

 the many along the shores of the famous fjord. 



Let us walk up the valley. On either hand the mountains rise 

 in rugged outline to a height of from 800 to 1000 feet, but without 

 the stern grandeur of precipitous cliffs, such as skirt the head of the 

 Eide Fjord, five-and-twenty miles away, and the Na^ro and Aarlonds 

 Fjords, branches of the sublime Sogne Fjords farther northwards. 

 It is only here and there in the Vale of Eide that vertical cliffs are 

 visible, for, as a rule, the mountains slope upwards at an angle which 



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