59^ FAKTHEST NORTH 



with such a reception as a prince might have envied. 

 The stout old men-of-war Nordstjcnicn and Elida, the 

 new and elegant Valkyrie, and the nimble little torpedo- 

 boats led the way for us. Steamboats swarmed around, 

 all black with people. There were fiags high and low, 

 salutes, hurrahs, waving of handkerchiefs and hats, ra- 

 diant faces everywhere, the whole fjord one multitudi- 

 nous welcome. There lay home, and the well - known 

 strand before it, glittering and smiling in the sun- 

 shine. Then steamers on steamers again, shouts after 

 shouts ; and we all stood, hat in hand, bowing as they 

 cheered. 



The whole of Peppervik was one mass of boats and 

 people and flags and waving pennants. Then the men- 

 of-war saluted with thirteen guns apiece, and the old 

 fort of Akershus followed with its thirteen peals of 

 thunder, that echoed from the hills around. 



In the evening I stood on the strand out by the fjord. 

 The echoes had died away, and the pine woods stood 

 silent and dark around. On the headland the last em- 

 bers of a bonfire of welcome still smouldered and 

 smoked, and the sea rippling at my feet seemed to 

 whisper, "Now you are at home." The deep peace of 

 the autumn evening sank beneficently over the weary 

 spirit. 



I could not but recall that rainy morning in June when 

 I last set foot on this strand. More than three years 

 had passed ; we had toiled and we had sown, and now 



