The Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1877-1885, 1883-03-28
A DAY ON ST. les NORWEGIAN
SNOW SHOES.1

Una, my lau! cfIed Morse 1atner
to his young son, one crisp, cold winter
morning, fetch the AK from the wood
shed and bring me my gun from the
| corner behind the clock. and we viii see
| what luck we had with che fox-traps and
the snares up in the birch-glen."
And Ola has no need of being asked
twice to attend to such duties. His
moth n, in the meanwhile, has put up a
| luncheon, consisting of cold smoked
ham and bread and butter, in a gayly
painted wooden box, which Ola Sings
across his shoulder, while Nils, his
| father, sticks the AK into his girdle, and
with his gun in one hand and his skee-
staff in the other, energies into the
bright winter morning. They then
! climb up the steep snow banks, place
| their skees upon the level surface, and
| put their feet into the bands. Nils gives
tremendous push with his staff and
away he flies down the steep hillside,
while his little son, following close be-
hind him, gives an Indian war-whoop,
and swings his staff about his head to
! show how little he needs ii.
Whew, how fast he goes!
In few seconds father and son have
reached the bottom of the valley. and
/ before them is steep incline, over
| grown with leaf1ess birch and elder for
ests. 1t is there where they have their
| snares. made of braided horse-hair; and,
as bait, they use the red berries of the
mountain ash of which ptarmigan and
/ thrushes are very fond. Now comes the
| test of their strength; but the snow is
too deep and loose to wade through,
and to climb declivity on skees is by
no means as easy as it is to slide down
a smooth hillside. Halt an hour s
climb brings them to the trapping
grounds But there, indeed, their efforts
are we'll rewarded.
| oh look, look Father!' cries the
boy, ecstatically. ''Oh, what a lot we
| have caught! Why, there are three
dozen birds, as sure as there is one"
| There is enough to buy you a new
| coat for Christmas, lad, he said chuck
| ling; land if we make many more such
| hauls, we may get enough to buy
| Mother silver brooch, too, to wear at
| church on Sundays"
mo, buy Mothers brooch first,
| Father" protests the lad, little hest
tatingly (for It costs many boys an eff
| fort to be generous); my coat will
come along soon enough. Although, to
| be sure, my old one is pretty shabby he
| adds, with glance at his patched
sleeves.
Nov, quick, laddie,' his father
called out. Stir your stumps and bring
me your bag of bait Get the snares to
rights and fix the berries, as you have
seen me doing.
Ola was very fond of this kind of
work, and he pushed himself with his
staff from tree to tree, and hung the
tempting red berries in the little hoops
and arches which were attached to the
of this labor, when suddenly he heard
the report of his fathers gun, and,
looking mp, saw a fox making great
leap, then plunging headlong into the
snow.
Hello, Mr. Reynard, remarked
Nils, as he slid over toward the dead
animal. You oversight yourself this
morning You have stolen my game SO
long, now, that If was time | should get
even with you. Now, sir, we aro
quits. .
When tho task of setting the snares in
order had been completed, father and
son glitled lightly away under the huge,
snoW-laden trees to visit their traps,
which were set farther up the mountain.
And when they turned their faces
homeward, they had, besides the ptar-
migan and the fox, u big capercailzie
Tor OfOuSc) tpch anu TWO iihItS nc
twilight was already falling, for in the
Norway winter it grows dark early in
the afternoon.
Now. let us see. lad said Ola 8
father, regarding his SON with astrange,
dubious glance, III you have got aorse
blood in Your veins. We don't want to
90 home the way we came. orwe should
scarcely reach the house before midnight
But if YOU dare risk Your neck With
your father we will take the western
track down the bare mountain-side.
1t axes brisk and stout legs to stand IN
that track. my lad, and | won't urge
you, if YOU are afraid. ;"
Il guess | can go where you can,
Father retortcd the boy, proudly.
| ANYWAY, my neck isn't half so valua
bic as yours.
| Spoken like MANI said the father,
in q voice of deep satisfaction. ''Now
| for it, lad! Make yourself ready. Strap
| the hunting-bag close under your CIR
| die, or YOU will lose it. Test your staff
/ to make sure that it will hold, for il it
breaks YOU are gone. Be sure you don t
| take my track. You are a fine chap and
brave one.
| Ola followed his fathers directions
closely. and stood with loudly pafpitat-
HcaFt 1OI Llit DCAOIS
him lay the long, smooth slope of the
mountain III had not been his father
who had challenged him, he would have
much preferred to take the circuitous
route down into the valley.
ssReadvr' shouted Nils, advancing
toward the edge of the slope ''One,
| two. three!
| And like an arrow he shot down over
/ the steep track. guiding his course
steadily with his staff; but it was scarce
| ly FIVE seconds before he was lost to
sight, looking more like whirling
snow-drift than man. With strained
! eyes and bated breath, Ola stood look
ing after him. Then, nerving himself
| for the feat, he glanced at his sEees to
see that they were parallel, and glided
out over the terrible declivity. His first
feeling was that he had slid right out
| into the air-that he was rushing with
seven-league boots over forests and
| mountainous. For all that, he did not
! lose hold of his staff, which he pressed
with all his might into the snow behind
him, thus slightly retarding his furious
speed. Now the pinetrees seemed to
| be running past him in mad race up
| the mountain-side, and the snowy slope
seemed to be rising TO meet him, or
moving IN billowy lines under his feet
| Gradually he gathered confidence in
| himself sort of fierce caf,reTr no >ssfs-@r
vv1Unln MN, ana a WIG exuItatlon surg
I'd through his veins and swept him on
The wind whistled about him and stung
hiS fo16 lil-a 1iffla charm vaaaf1laQ Now