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218 THROUGH NORWAY WITII A KNAPSACK.
for the stowage of pans, pails, &c. All was scrupulously
clean in this particular saeter.
Soon after sunset the sovereign mistress of the place
came in, bearing heavy pails of rich milk from cows and
goats. Some lumps of wood were taken from their
store place under the bed, a crackling fire was soon
blazing on the hearth, and the iron cauldron, filled with
a mysterious mixture of goats’ milk and other unknown
ingredients, from which the green cheese that ripens in
time to " gammel ost" is made, was hooked to the black
chain over the middle of the fire. For some hours
after, every time I awoke the sticks were blazing, and
the busy lass was there stirring, mixing, and watching
till after midnight, or nearly to the dawn, when she
disappeared.
At five o’clock, when I started on my next day’s
walk, she was at work again, making more cheese from
the morning’s milking.
The ascent of the valley towards the snowy
wilderness of the Nord Fiord and Justedals Bræen is by an
abominable path over the wreck of glacier moraines,
and through thickets of low beech trees, or rather
bushes; the elastic arms of which, entangled with each
other, continually bar the way, and, springing back as
they are bent aside, pick off one’s hat, flog one’s face, and
take most tantalizing liberties with the knapsack behind.
This vegetation soon ceased, and I came upon a waste
of loose stones with soppy snow between, and every
vestige of the track obliterated by the thawing. It.
happened to be just the sort of place where a beaten
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