LETTER XIII. 
COPENHAGEN—BERGEN—THE BLACK DEATH—SIGURDR— 
HOMEWARDS. 
Copenhagen, Sept. 12th, 1856. 
Our adventures since the date of my last letter 
have not been of an exciting character. We had fine 
weather and prosperous winds down the coast, and 
stayed a day at Christiansand, and another at Bergen. 
But though the novelty of the cruise had ceased since 
our arrival in lower latitudes, there was always a 
certain raciness and oddity in the incidents of our 
coasting voyage ; such as—waking in the morning, and 
finding the schooner brought up under the lea of a 
wooden house, or—riding out a foul wind with your 
hawser rove through an iron ring in the sheer side of 
