"Those ducks have a queer habit of plucking the softest feathers from their own b.r.e.a.s.t.s to line their nests. Don't you think so, Ole?"

"Yes, birds are a great deal nicer than we are apt to think. You know the mother-bird covers the eggs with this down before she flies away for food. She seems to understand that they must be kept warm, and the father-duck doesn't help her by bringing her food or taking her place while she is away. She has all the care on her own shoulders, poor thing.

"If her nest is robbed of the down, she will pluck more feathers from her breast and line it again. If it happens the third time, she flies to her mate and takes enough from him to fill their place. But after that her patience is worn out, she goes away and seeks another place in which she can build a new nest undisturbed."

"She certainly is a wise little creature, for she wouldn't be warm enough if she robbed herself too much," said Mari. "Mother has been to the city of Bergen, and she says cloaks lined with eider-down are sold in the stores there, and that they are worth a great deal of money."

"Of course, Mari. Some men make a business of robbing the nests of eider-ducks. It must be hard work, too. But see, there comes the postman. Let's go to meet him."

The children looked down the bay, and what do you think they saw?

At first it seemed as though a pine-tree standing up on the water were sailing straight toward them. But no! one could see as it came nearer that the tree was fastened into an odd little boat with a high curved bow. The tree must be taking the place of a sail, for the man inside was not rowing, yet the boat came steadily onward.

"Is it rough outside?" asked Ole, as the boat drew near.

"Yes, the wind was blowing so hard I did not dare to put up the sail.

But right in here it is quiet and calm enough to suit any one."

When the postman had carried his letters up to the office, in the leading house in the village, he came back to the sh.o.r.e and sat down for a few moments' talk with the children.

"This is a wonderful country of ours," he said, as he looked at the shadows of the great mountains in the water. "And we who live here belong to a n.o.ble and a mighty race. Never forget that, Mari, will you, my child?"

"O no, Olaf, I love to think of the grand old times when the Vikings sailed out of these bays and travelled all over the world. They were the ones who discovered America, weren't they? Although I have heard it said that the honour is given now to Columbus, the Italian."

"Hundreds of years before Columbus lived, Mari, our great seamen crossed the ocean. Many of our people went with them and settled in Iceland.

But they did not forget their native land and the wonderful stories that had been handed down for centuries from father to son.

"At last a wise man said, 'I will gather together these stories of the Norse people. I will write them down, and our children shall have them for ever.' In this way the 'Eddas' came to be written. They are dearer to us now than any other books except the Bible. Is it not so, children?"

"Yes, yes, Olaf," cried Mari and Ole together.

And Mari added, "We are so happy when father reads to us from the 'Eddas.' I hardly know what story I like best."

"I have sometimes heard strangers in the land speak about our boats,"

Olaf went on. "They call them old-fashioned and say they remind them of the ships the Vikings sailed in a thousand years ago, they have such high curved prows and are so broad. But what do we care if they do call them old-fashioned? We like it, children, for the old ways were good ways."

"I wish I had lived in the time of the Vikings," said Ole. "I should like to have gone with them on their daring voyages. But why were they better sailors than any other people at that time, Olaf?"

"In the first place, they were strong and brave. They loved the sea and spent their lives upon it. They trained themselves from boyhood to bear cold and hardships. And, besides all these things, these deep bays were good places for sailors to learn their craft.

"But I have stayed here longer than I thought; I must go home. This was the last village where I had to deliver letters or I could not have stopped with you so long. I will try sailing back, but if I find the wind still strong when I get outside the fiord, I can easily take the sail down. Good-bye."

The postman was soon far down the bay. He pa.s.sed several fishermen in their boats just coming back from their day's catch. Ole and Mari waited till they came in.

"What luck, what luck?" cried the children.

"I have had such a good haul," said Gustav, who was the first to touch the sh.o.r.e, "that here is a fine large haddock to take home to your mother, Ole."

"Many thanks, Gustav, my mother will be much pleased," answered the boy, as he received the gift. Then the two children trudged homeward, clasping hands and singing one of the songs they had learned at school.

CHAPTER V.

THE BIRTHDAY

"TEN years old, my daughter. Do you believe you have grown any taller since last night?" said Mari's mother, when she called her that morning.

"It seems so, anyway," answered the little girl, as she watched her mother making the birthday cake.

"Bring the citron and currants from the storeroom, Mari. I have sugar enough, I think. This must be a beautiful cake for my daughter. The frosting shall be thick. Here comes Ole now with the flowers."

Ole's arms were full. "Do you think I have enough to decorate your cake, Mari?" He laughed as he spoke.

"We can't use half of them, of course. Look at the quant.i.ty of fruit mother is using. There! see how yellow the dough looks since she put in the saffron. Won't it be lovely when it is done?"

"Come, Ole, get to work on that tub you are making for me. And, Mari, take your knitting and go out on the porch. I wish to be quiet while I watch the baking of the cake. There will be fun enough for you this afternoon."

Mari's mother had promised her a coffee party in honour of her birthday.

Soon after dinner the children began to arrive. They were dressed in their best and looked very happy, although the white kerchiefs tied around the rosy faces of the girls made them appear like little old women.

There was plenty of coffee to drink, for the children of the North are as fond of it as the older people. Then there was the magnificent birthday cake, rich in the fruits and sugar, and trimmed with the flowers Ole had gathered in the morning. Of course, there were piles of flat-bread on the table, besides other things of which the children were fond.

Many games were played outdoors in the sunshine. Mulberry-bush was the favourite, and it was played over and over again.

"I shall never forget my tenth birthday," said Mari, that night, after her little friends had gone home. "I have had a lovely time, mother, and you were so good to let me have the party."

[Ill.u.s.tration: CARVED HOUSES AT THELEMARKEN.]

"You can repay me by being more diligent in all your work the coming year, my child. Learn to be more careful in your knitting and spinning.

Always be ready, with a cheerful face, to help me in the churning, and I shall think you are growing to be a n.o.ble woman."

Our little cousin certainly had many duties. Her hands were seldom idle during the long winter afternoons and evenings, for there were stockings to knit for Ole and herself, scarfs to crochet, wool to be spun and woven, besides many other things which Norse girls need to learn if they are to grow up to be good housekeepers.

And Ole had much to do, also. In summer there was plenty of work in the garden, besides fishing and shooting the wild ducks. During the winter time he must make many useful things at his carpenter's bench. His father was his teacher in this kind of work. Why, he had made every piece of furniture in the house; and although it was not beautiful, it was well made and strong.

"I love to carve," Ole once said to his sister. "I wish it were the fashion to decorate our buildings as the people of Thelemarken do. I have seen pictures of their storehouses. They are just beautiful, Mari.

The men carve with their knives all sorts of figures on the outside.

The side posts of the porches are fairly covered with lovely patterns."

"The people there don't dress as we do, either," answered Mari. "Even the farmers wear the same clothes at work as on the holidays. I should think it would be hard to keep clean their white jackets all trimmed with silver b.u.t.tons. The women there sometimes make their ap.r.o.ns out of silk handkerchiefs. And they wear their silver belts and brooches every day. I should like to go there and see them. Just think, Ole, I've never been away from this place in my life!"

"Never mind, little sister. You and I will travel some day and go all over our country. We will even go to the North Cape and see the sun set at midnight and then rise a moment afterward. We can almost do that here on midsummer nights, but not quite. You know people from all over the world travel to the North Cape, Mari."

"What else do they see there besides the midnight sunset and sunrise?"

"Our friend Ernst, over in the village, went there once. He belonged to the crew of a ship that carries people there every summer. He says it is a high ma.s.s of rocks, and it is hard to climb. When you reach the top, you can get a good view of the Arctic Ocean, but there is nothing to see but the dreary water; no land nor ship in sight. That is, of course, as you look toward the north. On one side of the cape there is a small glacier, but those can be seen in many other parts of the country. One doesn't need to go to the North Cape to look at a glacier."