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Chap. XL.
SALE OF A WRECK.
169
more shallow, the sandy bottom appears—we go bump
—bump—bump, and later bu-u-ump; off again; a
more decided bump, and then we are stranded to
move no more. We are here relieved by a
flat-bottomed boat, and re-embarked—punted along till within
half an English mile from the shore, where we are
met by three peasants in their country carts, who soon
land us safe upon the beach. The masts and funnel of
the shipwrecked vessel appear rising above the
sand-dunes, as well as those of a Norwegian, her sister in
misfortune. We adjourn to the kro, are received by
mother Abellona, the mistress—a queer old lady,
somewhat of a character—who hurries the ladies into a
room to dry their saturated garments. I myself march
out, my coat-tails tucked under my arms, for a walk
on the common. Trust wind to dry you any day, versus
fire, provided you have plenty of it, and there is no
scarcity in Jutland.
I prolonged my walk to the sea-shore; passed first
over one range of dunes, carefully planted with the
sand-reed,* then ascended a second, and came down
upon the strand.
A small tent was erected near the shore, and ranged
in order for the sale lay the debris of the vessel—
anchors, coils of rope, sails, sacks of coals,
rusty-looking iron chain, kitchen utensils, &c. The articles
of greater value were lodged in the village inn to be
disposed of later.
The “North Sea ” herself lay embedded in the sand, all
on one side. The sea was rough, and the waves dashed
• Arundo arenaria.
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