CHAPTER XI 



A HOME ON THE HIGH FJELD ALEHEIM, 1902 



THE past week had been fine at Hvilested, and the 

 river had gradually got lower and lower, until fishing 

 had become difficult, and a single grilse or large sea- 

 trout caught after sundown was as welcome as a salmon 

 or half a dozen smaller fish had been a few days earlier. 

 We had been particularly lucky in the time of our 

 arrival, when there had just been a flood to bring up a 

 fresh run of clean fish, and the water had remained for 

 some time at a good height and not abnormally clear. 

 Grand sport had been ours during our first four days, 

 and we were as much surprised as disgusted to find our 

 catch gradually diminishing, and at last to be met by 

 the unwelcome phenomenon of a blank day. Such an 

 experience in our quarters was then rare indeed ; 

 usually there were enough hungry sea-trout to save the 

 situation even under the most unfavourable conditions, 

 but for some reason or other these fish were very late 

 that year, and only a few forerunners of the shoals 

 which were still disporting themselves in the salt 

 water at the mouth of the river had made their 

 appearance. 



What wonder that my wife and I gratefully 

 accepted a cordial invitation delivered through the 

 telephone to visit our friend Lort Phillips in his home 

 on the high fjeld. I love Norway, and can hardly bear 



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