1 8 ANGLERS' EVENINGS. 



that human dwelling-places are built, though there is only- 

 one break-neck path, and that down to the fiord, from 

 which the wretched inhabitants draw their only means of 

 subsistence. Now and then you get at the foot of the 

 cliffs, a field or two, where the stream which usually 

 tumbles over the rocks straight into the fiord, has made 

 itself a channel ; here you will always find dwellings 

 and probably a plain whitewashed church. But for these 

 occasional signs of man, the place is "as God made it" 

 and such a place as no one can pass through unmoved. 



Our rowers kept steadily on, only once stopping to 

 take some bread and cheese, and an hour before the 

 steamer was due, put us on the little landing stage at 

 Fronningen. By this time we were good friends with the 

 last comer, and, between Norwegian and German, got on 

 pretty well with him in the matter of talk. 



We had nothing to do, and our hour hung heavily, 

 but at last eight o'clock came and we got ready for the 

 steamer; then a man appeared who said it would not 

 come yet — it must be late. Soon it became dark and cold 

 and we were sick of our position. Some of us tried to 

 go to sleep on the logs, others tried running races along 

 the narrow planks, but darkness put an end to the sport 

 and all became thoroughly miserable once more. At last 

 a servant girl came down from the house we had long been 

 casting longing looks towards, and an Englishman sug- 

 gested to our Norwegian friend that he should try and 

 get her to bring us some hot coffee. He agreed to help 

 us and accosted the damsel. She departed and returned, 

 but without the coffee. Again our friend addressed her. 



