264 
WILD NORWAY. 
in one dish and eaten with cranberry jelly, followed by 
“ moltegrod ” with cream—a thing that cannot be 
described in common prose.* Liquids were scarce. 
Beer was too bulky to bring, and the nearest store 
(eighteen miles distant) we had already drunk dry our 
first week. After that, we were reduced to our slender 
stock of Bordeaux and a few bottles of aquavit (corn- 
brandy). 
On September 21st we shifted camp to the head¬ 
waters of the Luru Biver, distant some thirty-five miles 
beyond a wide stony fjeld. A ride-vei (horse-track) 
was available for seven miles ; the remaining twenty- 
eight had to be negotiated on foot, each man carrying, 
besides rifle, etc., whatever impedimenta he required for 
a ten-days’ hunt. We had intended leaving Karen 
behind, considering the long march beyond her powers. 
But her disappointment was so obvious that, not without 
misgivings, we consented to her coming. She did not 
fail. Tricing up her skirt to the knee and donning a 
pair of leathern hunter’s leggings, she pegged along 
through birch-scrub and bog, through forest and tangled 
brushwood without falter ; she forded flooded burns, 
climbed those leagues of bed-rock, and tripped down the 
reverse slope of Hykel-fjeld (which was lofty enough to 
hold ptarmigan in hundreds) as though the whole was 
an everyday jaunt, instead of fifteen hours’ solid stiff 
going. More than this, Karen twice during the day 
boiled and served out hot coffee, and when towards 
dusk we at length reached the huts at Grsesaamoen, was 
so fresh that she refused to allow us even to wring out 
our rain-soaked clothes, but bustled about her domestic 
* Moltegrod = freshly preserved cloud-berries. 
