Mari, Our Little Norwegian Cousin Part 5

"Our teacher told me, Ole, that a long time ago this whole country was covered with ice. Of course, there were no people then. But after a while the land became warmer and the ice went away. Here and there, the ice-rivers, or glaciers, were left among the mountains, and they have stayed there ever since. I don't see why."

"Of course, it's terribly cold above us, Mari, up among the mountains.

The snow falls and changes into ice. It slides slowly down into the valleys and begins to melt, but there is always plenty of ice above.

People like to come to our country to see the glaciers as well as the other wonderful sights. I declare, I'm getting sleepy and I am going to bed. Good night, little sister."

CHAPTER VI.

The Wedding

"THERE they are. They are just rounding the point," exclaimed Mari.

She was standing on the sh.o.r.e and looking anxiously down the bay. She was not alone, by any means, for every one of the village was there with her. Why were they all dressed so finely? Why were they all looking in one direction? And why was the church door standing open? It was not Sunday, and it was the time when every one was usually at work.

Gustav and Frigga, who lived farther up the coast, you remember, were to be married. There was no church in Frigga's village, so the wedding party must come here.

For what would a wedding be if it were not held in a church? Half of the beauty would be missing.

Ah! here come the boats. The first one, of course, contains the fair bride and her lover. They sit on a raised seat, with the bridesmaid and best man near them.

The bride looks quite charming with the high silver crown on her fair head. It seems as though a queen and her royal party were drawing near.

The boat is trimmed with flowers, and the rowers pull with a will.

Two other boats follow close behind, containing the dearest friends of the bride and groom. As they draw near, the people on the sh.o.r.e hasten to greet them with a rousing welcome.

And now the procession is formed and starts out toward the church. First comes the fiddler with his violin under his arm. He is followed by a man bearing a large silver tankard. The health of the newly married pair will be drunk from this many times before the festival is over. Next comes the best man, with Gustav and Frigga close behind; after whom follow the fathers, mothers, sisters, and brothers of the couple. Last, come the other relatives and friends. All are laughing and joking, and are bright with the pretty colours of their holiday clothes.

Now they enter the little church and pa.s.s down the aisles strewn with juniper-tips. The air is very sweet with the odour of the freshly cut sprigs. The minister is at the altar to meet them. He is dressed as usual in his long black gown with the great white ruff around his neck.

But the bride! How lovely she looks as she stands with bent head, with the silver crown resting on her fair hair. A heavy silver chain is around her neck, and she sparkles with rings, and brooches, and other ornaments without number. Her stomacher is covered with silver embroidery. Her ap.r.o.n is of the finest muslin, and is also embroidered beautifully.

The little church was so full that Ole and Mari were crowded near the door with the other children. But they could see everything that was going on.

"Isn't she beautiful?" whispered Mari, to a little girl behind her. "I don't believe our queen in her own palace can look grander than she."

When the service was over, the wedding party left the church and turned toward the sh.o.r.e. Was the good time over now, do you think? By no means, for a whole week's merriment had only begun.

The bridal party seated themselves in the boat in which they had arrived. The other boats were quickly filled; the fiddler began to play a lively air; the rowers pulled with long, steady strokes, and as they moved out over the clear, sunlit waters, one of the party began to sing. Others joined in the song until the air seemed filled with music.

Ole and Mari stood on the sh.o.r.e together with the others who had not gone with the young couple to their new home.

"Gustav has made a lovely new house for Frigga," Ole told his sister. "I sailed over there last week with Olaf, and it was just done. The last piece of furniture was also finished. I wish we were going there to-day; what fun everybody will have, feasting and dancing."

"Never mind, Ole, we shall be grown up before many years. And then we shall be invited to the wedding-parties," said Mari. "Let's go in swimming and have some fun by ourselves this afternoon."

Several other children followed the example of Ole and Mari. Soon there was such a splas.h.i.+ng and diving that the echoes of the noise came sounding back from the mountainsides. Norse children are great swimmers. When Mari was no more than five years old she had learned to feel as much at home in the water as the mermaids of whom her mother told in stories. She could stay below as long as Ole; she could dive, and tread water, and swim backwards. There was nothing to fear, for sharks were never seen near that sh.o.r.e, and the water was so clear one could see to the very bottom, no matter how deep it might be.

CHAPTER VII.

LEGENDS

"I AM afraid I shall have to go to lumbering this winter," said Mari's father, as the family sat around the great open fireplace.

Henrik had been home from the mountain pasture for two weeks. It was growing cold, and Jack Frost had paid several visits to the farm already.

"What a shame it is that the crops turned out so badly," answered his wife. "In one more week of good weather, you could have saved everything."

"Yes, that is true, wife, but we cannot help it. We lost nearly everything on account of the frost. If you are to live in comfort, I must earn money now in some other way. Two of the farm-hands can go with me to the camp in the woods, so I shall not be very lonely."

The farmer looked around the cheerful room, and sighed. Mari went to his side, and put her arms around his neck.

"Dear father, we shall miss you so much," she said. "You will come home at Christmas, anyway, won't you?"

"O yes, the camp is not so far away but I shall try to be back for one night out of every two weeks. Henrik and Ole will take good care of you girls and your mother, I know. They will be able to visit me, too. They are both good runners on the skis (skees). Although the camp is miles away, it will not seem much to them, eh, Ole?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: SKI-LOBING.]

"It will be grand sport," answered the boy, quickly. "We will run a race to see which one of us can get there first. Of course Henrik will win.

But who cares? I don't."

The two boys had been busy all day making new skis for themselves.

Great sport the children would have all this winter sliding down the hillsides.

Coasting on sleds! yes, there was plenty of that, too, on the snowy slopes around Mari's home. But ski-lobing was better fun, by far. Mari had learned to slide on skis long ago. They were made from two strips of wood, six feet long, with pointed ends curved upward. When they were strapped on her stout shoes the little girl could slide over the snow at a wonderful rate, without sinking or falling.

No, there was no sport like ski-lobing. Mari had the sled Henrik made for her two years ago, and her two brothers sometimes dragged her on it down to the village. Sometimes all the children went coasting with their sleds. "But it isn't as good as ski-lobing," they would always say when they came home.

And it was no wonder; you would agree with them, if you could once see them travel. It was almost like flying. They would stand together at the top of a slope.

"Ready!" Henrik would cry.

Then away! they would all start downwards. It seemed but a second before all were standing at the foot of the hill, out of breath and rosy as the reddest winter apples.

"Now for the top," cried the leader, after a moment's rest; and up they would go again.

It is easy to understand now why Ole and Henrik were not afraid of a long trip on skis over the snow-covered fields and hills. They were so skilful they would get to the camp in two hours at most.

After an afternoon's sport on the hillside, the children once more gathered in the big living-room.

"Tell us some of the good old stories we love so much," said Mari.

"There is no one who tells them so well, dear father."