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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Well, where will you go?" asks Aronsen irritably. "Can't say," answers Andresen. But he's a notion of his own all the same, no doubt; thinking, maybe, of the natives, and coming down into the district three men strong, with glass beads and finger rings. "We'll be getting on," says he to the rest.
They walk on a good ways, and Isak begins again: "How's he get on, then, with his trading, Aronsen, when he's nothing to trade with?" "Nay," says Sivert. "But there's not folk enough here now for him to buy for." "Ho, you think so? Why, I suppose 'tis so, ay, well...." Sivert wondered a little at this.
'Twas only at first he had been somewhat inclined to show and play the fine gentleman, and that was the fault of his master Aronsen. It was different now. In the spring, when the bogs were thawed some depth, Sivert came down from Sellanraa to Storborg, to start a bit of ditching for his brother, and lo, Andresen himself went out on the land digging too.
"Just as if I hadn't things every bit as good in my store," said he. Trader Aronsen was in a sorry way; he had made up his mind to keep with these pedlars and their sacks, watching them all the time; but they went separate ways about the village, each for himself, and Aronsen almost tore himself to pieces trying to follow all at once.
Both the trader at the shore station and Aronsen up at Storborg would be willing to contribute privately and secretly; funds devoted to such a purpose now would be repaid in the long run. The end of it was that two men were deputed to call on Geissler and take up the matter with him. And they were expected back shortly.
We're just going to sell these things here before your eyes, and then we'll be off home again." "Get away and wash your dirty mouth," says Aronsen furiously. "Ha ha ha! Nay, you've no call to dance about that way; keep still and look like a picture!" Geissler is tired, tired out, even his smoked glasses do not help him now, his eyes keep closing in the glare.
No peace in his mind now, it seems, but he must go up the fjeld himself and look at the mine with his own eyes. And this, look you, Trader Aronsen had done from sheer earnest thought of his own and his family's future. Here he is, face to face with bare desolation on the forsaken hills, machines lying there to rust, carts and material of all sorts left out in the open 'twas dismal to see.
'Twas none so pleasant to have to put aside all manner of necessary work to run and see after a telegraph line. But 'twas the money.... Up on the top of the hill he meets Aronsen. Ay, Aronsen the trader standing there looking and gazing out into the storm, like a vision himself. What did he want there?
'Tis true enough, as he says, not selling so much as a Krone all day, for he's no stock in the place at all. And what does he want with a chief clerk, then? I doubt it'll be just by way of looking grand and making a show, must have a man there to stand at a desk and write up things in books. Ha ha ha! ay, looks like he's just a little bit touched that way, is Aronsen."
Now, Aronsen had thought like enough to go farther up that morning, seeing he'd come so far, wanting, maybe, to see if all the place was quite deserted, if it could be true every man on the place was gone. But seeing these pedlar-folk so set on going on, it hinders him, and he tells them again and again they're mad to try.
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