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Updated: June 29, 2025
Merle now and again would give their companion a sidelong glance, while Thea laughed at all the wild things her friend said, and scolded her, and looked anxiously at Peer. And now the sun was nearing the shoulder of a hill far in the west, and evening was falling. They packed up their things, and Peer was loaded up with a big bag of cloud-berries on his back, and a tin pail to carry in his hand.
Some of these willing neighbours stayed to help. One went to pick more cloud-berries on the edge of the nearest bog. Another rode off, on the pony, to beg a supply of sugar from a house where it was known to abound. Two or three more cleared a space for a fire behind a thicket, and prepared to broil the venison and stew the kid, while others sat down to pluck the game.
He reproached himself for having brought neither camphor nor asafoetida, to administer with the corn-brandy. Here was the brandy, however; and some water, and fish, and bread, and cloud-berries. Great was the amazement of Peder and Oddo at Rolf's pushing aside the brandy, and seizing the water. When he had drained the last drop, he even preferred the cloud-berries to the brandy.
She next undertook to make the fire under the kettle, in which the reindeer meat was to be cooked, then to carry water and to make cheese. So the time passed pleasantly. The weather was mild and food was easily procured. Together they set snares for game, fished for salmon-trout in the rapids and picked cloud-berries in the swamp.
But on the little tableland the moon was shining clearly. It was green with small cloud-berries and dwarf juniper, and the rooty fragrance was for all the world like an English bolt or a Highland pasture. Lewis flung himself prone and buried his face among the small green leaves. Then, still on the ground, he scanned the endless yellow distance.
Here was a marsh covered with cloud-berries the taste brought back his own childhood. He wandered on up a pale-brown ridge flecked with red heather and what was that ahead? Smoke? He made towards it. Yes, it was smoke. A ptarmigan fluttered out in front of him, with a brood of tiny youngsters at her heels Lord, what a shave! he stopped short to avoid treading on them.
He lay for a minute in the scrub of cloud-berries, the collar of his coat buttoned round his throat, and the morning wind, fresh from leagues of snow, blowing chill on his face. Behind was the slope alive with men who at any moment might emerge on the plateau. He waited for the sight of a figure, but none came; clearly the muster was not yet complete.
"And you do thus freely give, my mistress and all who belong to her, without a sign of grudging," declared Erica. "But, would you not be better pleased if the gift required was a bunch of mossflowers, or a basket of cloud-berries?" "Perhaps so; yet, no; I think not. Our good cheeses are not wasted. They do not lie and rot in the sun and the mists.
Erica forgot heat, weariness, and the safety of her property, and ran on towards the singing voice. In five minutes she found the singer, Frolich, lying along the ground and picking cloud-berries with which she was filling her basket for supper. "Where is Erlingsen? quick quick!" cried Erica. "My father? You may just see him with your good eyes, up there."
Exactly what suggested this it was difficult to define; but the man felt that she had brought along with her the clean, chill air of the heights where the cloud-berries bloom. She was a flower of the dim and misty North, which has nevertheless its flashes of radiant, ethereal beauty. Though Evelyn had her faults, the impression she made on Vane was, perhaps, more or less justifiable.
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