CHAPTEB XII. 
“ I go across the ocean foam, 
Swift skating to my southern home, 
Upon the ocean skates fast driven, 
By gales, by Thurse’s witch wife driven.” 
Saga of King Harald Grey skin .— Laing. 
On the eleventh we weighed and paid a visit to the 
salmon lake from whence the fish we had received the 
other day had been taken. This lake lay at the foot of the 
mountains, and was about two miles in extent. The 
scenery here was peculiarly striking, and to the lover of 
the rod and line a more enchanting scene could hardly 
be found elsewhere. The day was lovely, the air bright 
and serene ; we hurried along the distance that sepa¬ 
rated us from our expected sport with feelings not to 
be described, and were looking forward to the success¬ 
ful capture of splendid char or Alpine trout without 
fear of hitch, of any kind, but when we arrived, the 
water, to our dismay, was frozen over, and we could 
not use our net for fishing. "Winter surely comes,, 
and it is time for us to return home—time to hasten 
too, for up here in the north when winter approaches* 
it comes with such haste as we have little experience 
