Some little delay occurred in getting the carrier and his horse. He was the husband of the woman of one of the sœters. She was a tall powerful woman, with a red face, and sharp temper, much older than himself. It was whispered that he had married her for her money. If he had, she had certainly the best of the bargain. Our tents and heavy baggage, were soon packed up in a meisgrie or crate, and slung up on the wooden packsaddle of the carrier’s horse. The Norwegian meisgrie is a capital contrivance. It is a kind of network made of birch twigs, which laces up with a long tie, one foot eleven inches long. It is very strong and very light. Wishing the sœter women farewell, and they seemed sorry to lose us, especially the music, we soon reached the river.
Our people and baggage were soon forded across. We remained behind with our three donkeys, having a tether rope stretching across the river. Fastening it with a noose round the Puru Rawnee’s neck, she was first pulled across, plunging and struggling to the other bank. The Tarno Rye was assisted through the stream in a similar manner. The Puro Rye saved us the trouble by jumping into the stream, to follow his companions. There was a loud outcry by the gipsies that he would be drowned, but he fought through the torrent famously, and reached the other bank in safety.
The view was beautiful as we looked up the Skögadal. The Melkadalstind towered above the mountain ranges, which closed the upper portion of the valley, leaving no outlet, but a stony col on the distant ridge. The occasional wooded sides of the valley, with firs, birch, and dark foliaged alder, relieved the valley from all appearance of desolation. The white foam of two torrents, and occasional patches of snow, on the mountain sides, at the head of the valley, contrasted well with wooded slopes which margined the winding stream.
[Illustration: VIEW OF MELKADALSTIND, FROM THE VALLEY OF SKÖGADAL, SKÖGADALS ELV.]
We had now crossed the river, and, following over the broken ground of its right bank, we at length reached the head of the pleasant valley of Skögadal. Again we had to cross the Skögadals Elv now a narrow impetuous torrent, rushing forth from a glacier, at some distance to our right.