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CHAPTER IX.
On foot again—The pedestrian’s advantages—Terraced valleys again
—Importance of eggs to the tourist—How to converse in a
language you do not understand—The Orkedal—Probable centre
of the great Scandinavian upheaval—Another explanation of the
Torghatten tunnel—Fly-catchers—Tariff of refreshment for man
and beast—A battle-field—Physiognomy of the Norwegians—
Mercenary tenderness of the Surrendal cows—Norwegian beds
and sheep-skin coverlids—I succeed in living within my income
at the Quamen Station—The beard provocative of refinement—
Female despotism.
On the day following, Tuesday, the 22nd July, I started
again on foot, and bent my way westwards to the
Orkedal. Every time I start upon a pedestrian journey
I feel a sensation of escaping from imprisonment; for,
no matter how free I may have been before, there is a
sense of vastly greater freedom, of utter self-reliance,
when alone upon my own legs, with a knapsack behind
me and an unknown land before. This feeling impels
one to step forward with long and eager strides, to
revel in the rude, vigorous enjoyment of wild nature.
It is under such circumstances that one feels the fact
that simple physical existence is a positive pleasure: the
mere contraction of the muscles, the inspiration of the
sweet mountain air, the circulation of the blood coursing
with strong vitality through every artery and vein, are
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