En Klapjagt Paa Danske Fjelde. 155 



air of the perfect autumn morning when 

 we espied the group of jolly Danes who 

 were waiting at the place of rendezvous. 

 There were Ole Larsen and Lars Olesen, 

 and Neils Holmsen and Holm Nielsen, 

 and Asmus Rasmussen and Rasmus As- 

 mussen, and Ask Bjoerken, and Axel Ha- 

 gerup, and Olof Qvist, Hjelt Raavad, and 

 Sell Maag, and Hjalmer Bjoernsen, and a 

 lot of others whose names have in some 

 unaccountable way slipped my mind. 



Twenty or thirty flaxen-haired, strong- 

 waisted boys wearing home-made clothes 

 and heavy wooden shoes, carried wooden 

 clappers and old tin pans and other racket- 

 producing implements. The noise part 

 of the hunt was to be left to the responsi- 

 bility of the boys, and never was respon- 

 sibility carried more lightly. There were 

 hunting suits of corduroy, and hunting 

 suits of canvas, and hunting suits of 

 business suits there. There were Eng- 

 lish guns with shoulder-straps, and Belgian 

 guns with shoulder-straps, and American 

 guns with shoulder-straps : and all these 

 straps wrinkled the coats of their respective 



