Up The Baltic - Young America in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark
by Oliver Optic
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Transcribers note: In this text the breve has been rendered as ă and the macron ā

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Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, BY WILLIAM T. ADAMS, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

Electrotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, No. 19 Spring Lane.




This Volume



A Library of Travel and Adventure in Foreign Lands. First and Second Series; six volumes in each Series. 16mo. Illustrated.

First Series.


Second Series.



UP THE BALTIC, the first volume of the second series of "YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD," like its predecessors, is a record of what was seen and done by the young gentlemen of the Academy Squadron on its second voyage to Europe, embracing its stay in the waters of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Agreeably to the announcement made in the concluding volume of the first series, the author spent the greater portion of last year in Europe. His sole object in going abroad was to obtain the material for the present series of books, and in carrying out his purpose, he visited every country to which these volumes relate, and, he hopes, properly fitted himself for the work he has undertaken.

In the preparation of UP THE BALTIC, the writer has used, besides his own note-books, the most reliable works he could obtain at home and in Europe, and he believes his geographical, historical, and political matter is correct, and as full as could be embodied in a story. He has endeavored to describe the appearance of the country, and the manners and customs of the people, so as to make them interesting to young readers. For this purpose these descriptions are often interwoven with the story, or brought out in the comments of the boys of the squadron.

The story is principally the adventures of the crew of the second cutter, who attempted "an independent excursion without running away," which includes the career of a young Englishman, spoiled by his mother's indulgence, and of a Norwegian waif, picked up by the squadron in the North Sea.

The author is encouraged to enter upon this second series by the remarkable and unexpected success which attended the publication of the first series. Difficult as it is to work the dry details of geography and history into a story, the writer intends to persevere in his efforts to make these books instructive, as well as interesting; and he is confident that no reader will fail to distinguish the good boys from the bad ones of the story, or to give his sympathies to the former.




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"Boat on the weather bow, sir!" shouted the lookout on the top-gallant forecastle of the Young America.

"Starboard!" replied Judson, the officer of the deck, as he discovered the boat, which was drifting into the track of the ship.

"Starboard, sir!" responded the quartermaster in charge of the wheel.

"Steady!" added the officer.

"Steady, sir," repeated the quartermaster.

By this time a crowd of young officers and seamen had leaped upon the top-gallant forecastle, and into the weather rigging, to obtain a view of the little boat, which, like a waif on the ocean, was drifting down towards the coast of Norway. It contained only a single person, who was either a dwarf or a boy, for he was small in stature. He lay upon a seat near the stern of the boat, with his feet on the gunwale. He was either asleep or dead, for though the ship had approached within hail, he neither moved nor made any sign. The wind was light from the southward, and the sea was quite calm.

"What do you make of it, Ryder?" called the officer of the deck to the second master, who was on duty forward.

"It is a flat-bottomed boat, half full of water, with a boy in it," answered Ryder.

"Hail him," added the officer of the deck.

"Boat, ahoy!" shouted Ryder, at the top of his lungs.

The person in the boat, boy or man, made no reply. Ryder repeated the hail, but with no better success. The officers and seamen held their breath with interest and excitement, for most of them had already come to the conclusion that the occupant of the boat was dead. A feeling akin to horror crept through the minds of the more timid, as they gazed upon the immovable body in the dilapidated craft; for they felt that they were in the presence of death, and to young people this is always an impressive season. By this time the ship was within a short distance of the water-logged bateau. As the waif on the ocean exhibited no signs of life, the first lieutenant, in charge of the vessel, was in doubt as to what he should do.

Though he knew that it was the first duty of a sailor to assist a human being in distress, he was not sure that the same effort was required in behalf of one who had already ceased to live. Captain Cumberland, in command of the ship, who had been in the cabin when the excitement commenced, now appeared upon the quarter-deck, and relieved the officer of the responsibility of the moment. Judson reported the cause of the unwonted scene on deck, and as the captain discovered the little boat, just on the weather bow, he promptly directed the ship to be hove to.

"Man the main clew-garnets and buntlines!" shouted the first lieutenant; and the hands sprang to their several stations. "Stand by tack and sheet."

"All ready, sir," reported the first midshipman, who was on duty in the waist.

"Let go tack and sheet! Up mainsail!" continued Ryder.

The well-trained crew promptly obeyed the several orders, and the mainsail was hauled up in much less time than it takes to describe the manoeuvre.

"Man the main braces!" proceeded the officer of the deck.

"Ready, sir," reported the first midshipman.

"Let go and haul."

As the hands executed the last order; all the yards on the mainmast swung round towards the wind till the light breeze caught the sails aback, and brought them against the mast. The effect was to deaden the headway of the ship.

"Avast bracing!" shouted the first lieutenant, when the yards on the mainmast were about square.

In a few moments the onward progress of the Young America was entirely checked, and she lay motionless on the sea. There were four other vessels in the squadron, following the flag-ship, and each of them, in its turn, hove to, or came up into the wind.

"Fourth cutters, clear away their boat!" continued the first lieutenant, after he had received his order from the captain. "Mr. Messenger will take charge of the boat."

The young officer indicated was the first midshipman, whose quarter watch was then on duty.

"All the fourth cutters!" piped the boatswain's mate, as Messenger crossed the deck to perform the duty assigned to him.

"He's alive!" shouted a dozen of the idlers on the rail, who had not removed their gaze from the waif in the small boat.

"He isn't dead any more than I am!" added a juvenile tar, springing into the main rigging, as if to demonstrate the amount of his own vitality.

The waif in the bateau had produced this sudden change of sentiment, and given this welcome relief to the crew of the Young America, by rising from his reclining posture, and standing up in the water at the bottom of his frail craft. He gazed with astonishment at the ship and the other vessels of the squadron, and did not seem to realize where he was.

"Avast, fourth cutters!" interposed the first lieutenant. "Belay, all!"

If the waif was not dead, it was hardly necessary to lower a boat to send to his relief; at least not till it appeared that he needed assistance.

"Boat, ahoy!" shouted Ryder.

"On board the ship," replied the waif, in tones not at all sepulchral.

"What are you doing out here?" demanded the first lieutenant.

"Nothing," replied the waif.

"Will you come on board the ship?"

"Yes, if you will let me," added the stranger, as he picked up a broken oar, which was floating in the water on the bottom of his boat.

"Yes, come on board," answered the first lieutenant, prompted by Captain Cumberland, who was quite as much interested in the adventure as any of his shipmates.

The waif, using the broken oar as a paddle, worked his water-logged craft slowly towards the ship. The accommodation ladder was lowered for his use, and in a few moments, with rather a heavy movement, as though he was lame, or much exhausted, he climbed up the ladder, and stepped down upon the ship deck.

"Fill away again!" said the captain to the first lieutenant, as a curious crowd began to gather around the stranger. Ryder gave the necessary orders to brace up the main yards, and set the mainsail again, and the ship was soon moving on her course towards the Naze of Norway, as though nothing had occurred to interrupt her voyage.

"What are you doing out here, in an open boat, out of sight of land?" asked Captain Cumberland, while the watch on deck were bracing up the yards.

The waif looked at the commander of the Young America, and carefully examined him from head to foot. The elegant uniform of the captain seemed to produce a strong impression upon his mind, and he evidently regarded him as a person of no small consequence. He did not answer the question put to him, seeming to be in doubt whether it was safe and proper for him to do so. Captain Cumberland was an exceedingly comely-looking young gentleman, tall and well formed in person, graceful and dignified in his manners; and if he had been fifty years old, the stranger before him could not have been more awed and impressed by his bearing. So far as his personal appearance was concerned, the waif appeared to have escaped from the rag-bag, and to have been out long enough to soil his tatters with oil, tar, pitch, and dirt. Though his face and hands, as well as other parts of his body, were very dirty, his eye was bright, and, even seen through the disguise of filth and rags that covered him, he was rather prepossessing.

"What is your name?" asked Captain Cumberland, finding his first question was not likely to be answered.

"Ole Amundsen," replied the stranger, pronouncing his first name in two syllables.

"Then you are not English."

"No, sir. Be you?"

"I am not; we are all Americans in this ship."

"Americans!" exclaimed Ole, opening his eyes, while a smile beamed through the dirt on his face. "Are you going to America now?"

"No; we are going up the Baltic now," replied Captain Cumberland; "but we shall return to America in the course of a year or two."

"Take me to America with you—will you?" continued Ole, earnestly. "I am a sailor, and I will work for you all the time."

"I don't know about that. You must speak to the principal."

"Who's he?"

"Mr. Lowington. He is in the cabin now. Where do you belong, Ole?"

"I don't belong anywhere," answered the waif, looking doubtfully about him.

"Where were you born?"

"In Norway, sir."

"Then you are a Norwegian."

"I reckon I am."

"In what part of Norway were you born?"

"In Bratsberg."

"That's where all the brats come from," suggested Sheridan.

"This one came from there, at any rate," added Mayley. "But where is Bratsberg, and what is it?"

"It is an amt, or province, in the south-eastern part of Norway."

"I came from the town of Laurdal," said Ole.

"Do the people there speak English as well as you do?" asked the captain.

"No, sir. I used to be a skydskarl, and—"

"A what?" demanded the crowd.

"A skydskarl—a boy that goes on a cariole to take back the horses. I learned a little English from the Englishmen I rode with; and then I was in England almost a year."

"But how came you out here, alone in an open boat?" asked the captain, returning to his first inquiry.

Ole put one of his dirty fingers in his mouth, and looked stupid and uncommunicative. He glanced at the young officers around him, and then over the rail at the sea.

"Were you wrecked?" inquired the captain.

"No, sir; not wrecked," replied Ole. "I never was wrecked in my life."

"What are you doing out here, out of sight of land, in a boat half full of water?" persisted the captain.

"Doing nothing."

"Did you get blown off from the shore?"

"No, sir; a southerly wind wouldn't blow anybody off from the south coast of Norway," answered Ole, with a smile which showed that he had some perception of things absurd in themselves.

"You are no fool."

"No, sir, I am not; and I don't think you are," added Ole, again glancing at Captain Cumberland from head to foot.

The young tars all laughed at the waif's retort, and the captain was not a little nettled by the remark. He pressed Ole rather sharply for further information in regard to his antecedents; but the youth was silent on this point. While the crowd were anxiously waiting for the stranger to declare himself more definitely, eight bells sounded at the wheel, and were repeated on the large bell forward by the lookout. From each vessel of the fleet the bells struck at nearly the same moment, and were followed by the pipe of the boatswain's whistle, which was the signal for changing the watch. As the officers of the ship were obliged to attend to their various duties, Ole Amundsen was left alone with the captain. The waif still obstinately refused to explain how he happened to be alone in a water-logged boat, asleep, and out of sight of land, though he promptly answered all other questions which were put to him.

Mr. Lowington, the principal of the Academy Squadron, was in the main cabin, though he had been fully informed in regard to the events which had transpired on deck. The young commander despaired of his own ability to extort an explanation from the waif, and he concluded to refer the matter to the principal.

"How long have you been in that boat?" asked Captain Cumberland, as he led the way towards the companion ladder.

"Eighteen hours," answered Ole, after some hesitation, which, perhaps, was only to enable him to count up the hours.

"Did you have anything to eat?"

"No, sir."


"Not a thing."

"Then you are hungry?"

"I had a little supper last night—not much," continued Ole, apparently counting the seams in the deck, ashamed to acknowledge his human weakness.

"You shall have something to eat at once."

"Thank you, sir."

Captain Cumberland therefore conducted the stranger to the steerage, instead of the main cabin, and directed one of the stewards to give him his supper. The man set half a cold boiled ham on one of the mess tables, with an abundant supply of bread and butter. Cutting off a large slice of the ham, he placed it on the plate before Ole, whose eyes opened wide with astonishment, and gleamed with pleasure. Without paying much attention to the forms of civilization, the boy began to devour it, with the zeal of one who had not tasted food for twenty-four hours. Captain Cumberland smiled, but with becoming dignity, at the greediness of the guest, before whom the whole slice of ham and half a brick loaf disappeared almost in a twinkling. The steward appeared with a pot of coffee, in time to cut off another slice of ham, which the waif attacked with the same voracity as before. When it was consumed, and the young Norwegian glanced wistfully at the leg before him, as though his capacity for cold ham was not yet exhausted, the captain began to consider whether he ought not to consult the surgeon of the ship before he permitted the waif to eat any more. But the steward, like a generous host, seemed to regard the quantity eaten as complimentary testimony to the quality of the viands, and helped him to a third slice of the ham. He swallowed a pint mug of coffee without stopping to breathe.

As the third slice of ham began to wax small before the voracious Norwegian, Captain Cumberland became really alarmed, and determined to report at once to the principal and the surgeon for instructions. Knocking at the door of the main cabin, he was admitted. Dr. Winstock assured him there was no danger to the guest; he had not been without food long enough to render it dangerous for him fully to satisfy himself. The quantity eaten might make him uncomfortable, and even slightly sick, but it would do the gourmand no real injury. The captain returned to the steerage, where Ole had broken down on his fourth slice of ham; but he regarded it wistfully, and seemed to regret his inability to eat any more.

"That's good," said he, with emphasis. "It's the best supper I ever ate in my life. I like this ship; I like the grub; and I mean to go to America in her."

"We will see about that some other time; but if you don't tell us how you happened to be off here, I am afraid we can do nothing for you," replied the captain. "If you feel better now, we will go and see the principal."

"Who's he?" asked Ole.

"Mr. Lowington. You must tell him how you happened to be in that leaky boat."

"Perhaps I will. I don't know," added Ole, doubtfully, as he followed the commander into the main cabin.

Captain Cumberland explained to the principal the circumstances under which Ole had come on board, and that he declined to say anything in regard to the strange situation in which he had been discovered.

"Is the captain here?" asked the midshipman of the watch, at the steerage door.

"Yes," replied Captain Cumberland.

"Mr. Lincoln sent me down to report a light on the lee bow, sir."

"Very well. Where is Mr. Beckwith?"

"In the cabin, sir."

The captain left the main cabin, and entered the after cabin, where he found Beckwith, the first master, attended by the second and third, examining the large chart of the North Sea.

"Light on the lee bow, sir," said the first master.

"Do you make it out?"

"Yes; we are all right to the breadth of a hair," added the master, delighted to find that his calculations had proved to be entirely correct. "It is Egero Light, and we are about fifty miles from the Naze of Norway. We are making about four knots, and if the breeze holds, we ought to see Gunnarshoug Light by one o'clock."

Captain Cumberland went on deck to see the light reported. Though it was half past eight, the sun had but just set, and the light, eighteen miles distant, could be distinctly seen. It created a great deal of excitement and enthusiasm among the young officers and seamen, who had read enough about Norway to be desirous of seeing it. For weeks the young gentlemen on board the ship had been talking of Norway, and reading up all the books in the library relating to the country and its people. They had read with interest the accounts of the various travellers who had visited it, including Ross Brown, in Harper's Monthly, and Bayard Taylor, and had studied Harper, Murray, Bradshaw, and other Guides on the subject. The more inquiring students had read the history of Norway, and were well prepared to appreciate a short visit to this interesting region.

They had just come from the United States, having sailed in the latter part of March. The squadron had had a fair passage, and the students hoped to be in Christiansand by the first day of May; and now nothing less than a dead calm for forty-eight hours could disappoint their hopes. Five years before, the Young America and the Josephine, her consort, had cruised in the waters of Europe, and returned to America in the autumn. It had been the intention of the principal to make another voyage the next year, go up the Baltic, and winter in the Mediterranean; but the war of 1866 induced him to change his plans. Various circumstances had postponed the cruise until 1870, when it was actually commenced.

The Young America was the first, and for more than a year the only, vessel belonging to the Academy. The Josephine, a topsail schooner, had been added the second year; and now the Tritonia, a vessel of the same size and rig, was on her first voyage. The three vessels of the squadron were officered and manned by the students of the Academy. As on the first cruise, the offices were the rewards of merit bestowed upon the faithful and energetic pupils. The highest number of merits gave the highest office, and so on through the several grades in the cabin, and the petty offices in the steerage. The routine and discipline of the squadron were substantially the same as described in the first series of these volumes, though some changes had been made, as further experience suggested. Instead of quarterly, as before, the offices were given out every month. Captains were not retired after a single term, as formerly, but were obliged to accept whatever rank and position they earned, like other students.

There was no change from one vessel to another, except at the end of a school year, or with the permission of the principal. The ship had six instructors, three of whom, however, lectured to all the students in the squadron, and each of the smaller vessels had two teachers. Mr. Lowington was still the principal. He was the founder of the institution; and his high moral and religious principles, his love of justice, as well as his skill, firmness, and prudence, had made it a success in spite of the many obstacles which continually confronted it. As a considerable portion of the students in the squadron were the spoiled sons of rich men, who had set at defiance the rules of colleges and academies on shore, it required a remarkable combination of attributes to fit a gentleman for the difficult and trying position he occupied.

Mr. Fluxion was the first vice-principal in charge of the Josephine. He was a thorough seaman, a good disciplinarian, and a capital teacher; but he lacked some of the high attributes of character which distinguished the principal. If any man was fit to succeed Mr. Lowington in his responsible position, it was Mr. Fluxion; but it was doubtful whether, under his sole administration, the institution could be an entire success. His love of discipline, and his energetic manner of dealing with delinquents, would probably have increased the number of "rows," mutinies, and runaways.

The second vice-principal, in charge of the Tritonia, was Mr. Tompion, who, like his two superiors in rank, had formerly been an officer of the navy. Though he was a good sailor, and a good disciplinarian, he lacked that which a teacher needs most—a hearty sympathy with young people.

The principal and the two vice-principals were instructors in mathematics and navigation in their respective vessels. Mr. Lowington had undertaken this task himself, because he felt the necessity of coming more in contact with the student than his position as mere principal required. It tended to promote friendly relations between the governor and the governed, by creating a greater sympathy between them.

The Rev. Mr. Agneau still served as chaplain. In port, and at sea when the weather would permit, two services were held in the steerage every Sunday, which were attended, at anchor, by the crew of all the vessels. Prayers were said morning and evening, in the ship by the chaplain, in the schooners by the vice-principal or one of the instructors.

Dr. Winstock was the instructor in natural philosophy and chemistry, as well as surgeon and sanitary director. He was a good and true man, and generally popular among the students. Each vessel had an adult boatswain and a carpenter, and the ship a sailmaker, to perform such work as the students could not do, and to instruct them in the details of practical seamanship.

After the lapse of five years, hardly a student remained of those who had cruised in the ship or her consort during the first voyage. But in addition to the three vessels which properly constituted the squadron, there were two yachts, each of one hundred and twenty tons. They were fore-and-aft schooners, of beautiful model, and entirely new. The one on the weather wing of the fleet was the Grace, Captain Paul Kendall, whose lady and two friends were in the cabin. Abreast of her sailed the Feodora, Captain Robert Shuffles, whose wife was also with him. Each of these yachts had a first and second officer, and a crew of twenty men, with the necessary complement of cooks and stewards. They were part of the fleet, but not of the Academy Squadron.



Mr. Lowington examined Ole Amundsen very carefully, in order to ascertain what disposition should be made of him. He told where he was born, how he had learned English, and where he had passed the greater portion of his life, just as he had related these particulars to Captain Cumberland.

"But how came you out here in an open boat?" asked the principal.

Ole examined the carpet on the floor of the cabin, and made no reply.

"Won't you answer me?" added Mr. Lowington.

The waif was still silent.

"You have been to sea?"

"Yes, sir; I was six months in a steamer, and over two years in sailing vessels," answered Ole, readily.

"What steamer were you in?"

"I was in the Drammen steamer a while; and I have been three trips down to Copenhagen and Gottenburg, one to Luebeck, one to Stettin, and one to Stockholm."

"Have you been in a steamer this season?"

"No, sir."

"Then you were in a sailing vessel."

Ole would not say that he had been in any vessel the present season.

"Where is your home now?" asked the principal, breaking the silence again.

"Haven't any."

"Have you a father and mother?"

"Both dead, sir."

"Have you any friends?"

"Friends? I don't believe I have."

"Any one that takes care of you?"

"Takes care of me? No, sir; I'm quite certain I haven't any one that takes care of me. I take care of myself, and it's heavy work I find it, sometimes, I can tell you."

"Do you ever go fishing?"

"Yes, sir, sometimes."

"Have you been lately?"

Ole was silent again.

"I wish to be your friend, Ole."

"Thank you, sir," added Ole, bowing low.

"But in order to know what to do for you, I must know something about your circumstances."

"I haven't any circumstances, sir. I lost 'em all," replied Ole, gravely and sadly, as though he had met with a very serious loss.

Dr. Winstock could not help laughing, but it was impossible to decide whether the boy was ignorant of the meaning of the word, or was trying to perpetrate a joke.

"How did you happen to lose your circumstances, Ole?" asked Mr. Lowington.

"When my mother died, Captain Olaf took 'em."

"Indeed; and who is Captain Olaf?"

Ole looked at the principal, and then returned his gaze to the cabin floor, evidently not deeming it prudent to answer the question.

"Is he your brother?"

"No, sir."

"Your uncle?"

"No, sir."

Ole could not be induced to say anything more about Captain Olaf, and doubtless regretted that he had even mentioned his name. The waif plainly confounded "circumstances" and property. Mr. Lowington several times returned to the main inquiry, but the young man would not even hint at the explanation of the manner in which he had come to be a waif on the North Sea, in an open boat, half full of water. He had told the captain that he was not wrecked, and had not been blown off from the coast. He would make no answer of any kind to any direct question relating to the subject.

"Well, Ole, as you will not tell me how you came in the situation in which we found you, I do not see that I can do anything for you," continued Mr. Lowington. "The ship is bound to Christiansand, and when we arrive we must leave you there."

"Don't leave me in Christiansand, sir. I don't want to be left there."

"Why not?"

Ole was silent again. Both the principal and the surgeon pitied him, for he appeared to be a friendless orphan; certainly he had no friends to whom he wished to go, and was only anxious to remain in the ship, and go to America in her.

"You may go into the steerage now, Ole," said the principal, despairing of any further solution of the mystery.

"Thank you, sir," replied Ole, bowing low, and backing out of the cabin as a courtier retires from the presence of a sovereign.

"What do you make of him, doctor?" added Mr. Lowington, as the door closed upon the waif.

"I don't make anything of him," replied Dr. Winstock. "The young rascal evidently don't intend that we should make anything of him. He's a young Norwegian, about fifteen years old, with neither father nor mother; for I think we may believe what he has said. If he had no regard to the truth, it was just as easy for him to lie as it was to keep silent, and it would have been more plausible."

"I am inclined to believe that he is a runaway, either from the shore or from some vessel," said the principal. "He certainly cannot have been well treated, for his filthy rags scarcely cover his body; and he says that the supper he had to-night was the best he ever ate in his life. It was only coffee, cold ham, and bread and butter; so he cannot have been a high liver. He seems to be honest, and I pity him."

"But he is too filthy to remain on board a single hour. I will attend to his sanitary condition at once," laughed the doctor. "He will breed a leprosy among the boys, if he is not taken care of."

"Let the purser give you a suit of clothes for him, for we can't do less than this for him."

The doctor left the cabin, and Ole was taken to the bath-room by one of the stewards, and compelled to scrub himself with a brush and soap, till he was made into a new creature. He was inclined to rebel at first, for he had his national and inborn prejudice against soap and water in combination; but the sight of the suit of new clothes overcame his constitutional scruples. The steward was faithful to his mission, and Ole left dirt enough in the bath-tub to plant half a dozen hills of potatoes. He looked like a new being, even before he had donned the new clothes. His light hair, cut square across his forehead, was three shades lighter when it had been scrubbed, and deprived of the black earth, grease, and tar, with which it had been matted.

The steward was interested in his work, for it is a pleasure to any decent person to transform such a leper of filth into a clean and wholesome individual. Ole put on the heavy flannel shirt and the blue frock which were handed to him, and smiled with pleasure as he observed the effect. He was fitted to a pair of seaman's blue trousers, and provided with socks and shoes. Then he actually danced with delight, and evidently regarded himself as a finished dandy; for never before had he been clothed in a suit half so good. It was the regular uniform of the crew of the ship.

"Hold on a moment, my lad," said Muggs, the steward, as he produced a pair of barber's shears. "Your barber did not do justice to your figure-head, the last time he cut your hair."

"I cut it myself," replied Ole.

"I should think you did, and with a bush scythe."

"I only hacked off a little, to keep it out of my eyes. Captain Olaf always used to cut it."

"Who's Captain Olaf?" asked Muggs.

Ole was silent, but permitted the steward to remove at will the long, snarly white locks, which covered his head. The operator had been a barber once, and received extra pay for his services on board the ship in this capacity. He did his work in an artistic manner, parting and combing the waif's hair as though he were dressing him for a fashionable party. He put a sailor's knot in the black handkerchief under the boy's collar, and then placed the blue cap on his head, a little on one side, so that he looked as jaunty as a dandy man-of-war's-man.

"Now put on this jacket, my lad, and you will be all right," continued the steward, as he gazed with pride and pleasure upon the work of his hands.

"More clothes!" exclaimed Ole. "I shall be baked. I sweat now with what I have on."

"It's hot in here; you will be cool enough when you go on deck. Here's a pea-jacket for you, besides the other."

"But that's for winter. I never had so much clothes on before in my life."

"You needn't put the pea-jacket on, if you don't want it. Now you look like a decent man, and you can go on deck and show yourself."

"Thank you, sir."

"But you must wash yourself clean every morning."

"Do it every day!" exclaimed Ole, opening his eyes with astonishment.

"Why, yes, you heathen," laughed Muggs. "A man isn't fit to live who don't keep himself clean. Why, you could have planted potatoes anywhere on your hide, before you went into that tub."

"I haven't been washed before since last summer," added Ole.

"You ought to be hung for it."

"You spend half your time washing yourselves—don't you?"

"We spend time enough at it to keep clean. No wonder you Norwegians have the leprosy, and the flesh rots off the bones!"

"But I always go into the water every summer," pleaded Ole.

"And don't wash yourself at any other time?"

"I always wash myself once a year, and sometimes more, when I get a good chance."

"Don't you wash your face and hands every morning."

"Every morning? No! I haven't done such a thing since last summer."

"Then you are not fit to live. If you stay in this ship, you must wash every day, and more than that when you do dirty work."

"Can I stay in the ship if I do that?" asked Ole, earnestly.

"I don't know anything about it."

"I will wash all the time if they will only let me stay in the ship," pleaded the waif.

"You must talk with the principal on that subject. I have nothing to do with it. Now, go on deck. Hold up your head, and walk like a man."

Ole left the bath-room, and made his way up the forward ladder. The second part of the starboard watch were on duty, but nearly every person belonging to the ship was on deck, watching the distant light, which assured them they were on the coast of Norway. The waif stepped upon deck as lightly as a mountain sylph. The influence of his new clothes pervaded his mind, and he was inclined to be a little "swellish" in his manner.

"How are you, Norway!" shouted Sanford, one of the crew.

"How are you, America," replied Ole, imitating the slang of the speaker.

"What have you done with your dirt?" added Rodman.

"Here is some of it," answered Muggs, the steward, as he came up the ladder, with Ole's rags on a dust-pan, and threw them overboard.

"If you throw all his dirt overboard here, we shall get aground, sure," added Stockwell, as Ole danced up to the group of students.

"No wonder you feel light after getting rid of such a load of dirt," said Sanford.

"O, I'm all right," laughed Ole, good-naturedly; for he did not seem to think that dirt was any disgrace or dishonor to him.

"How came you in that leaky boat, Norway?" demanded Rodman; and the entire party gathered around the waif, anxious to hear the story of his adventure.

"I went into it."

"Is that so?" added Wilde.

"Yes, sir."

"I say, Norway, you are smart," replied Rodman.

"Smart? Where?"

"All over."

"I don't feel it."

"But, Norway, how came you in that old tub, out of sight of land?" persisted Rodman, returning to the charge again.

"I went into it just the same as one of you Americans would have got into it," laughed Ole, who did not think it necessary to resort to the tactics he had used with the principal and the captain. "You could have done it if you had tried as hard as I did."

"After you got in, then, how came the boat out here, so far from land?"

"The wind, the tide, and the broken oar brought it out here."

"Indeed! But won't you tell us your story, Ole?"

"A story? O, yes. Once there was a king of Norway whose name was Olaf, and half the men of his country were named after him, because—"

"Never mind that story, Ole. We want to hear the story about yourself."

"About myself? Well, last year things didn't go very well with me; the crop of potatoes was rather short on my farm, and my vessels caught but few fish; so I decided to make a voyage up the Mediterranean, to spend the winter."

"What did you go in, Norway?" asked Wilde.

"In my boat. We don't make voyages on foot here in Norway."

"What boat?"

"You won't let me tell my story; so I had better finish it at once. I got back as far as the North Sea, and almost into the Sleeve, when a gale came down upon me, and strained my boat so that she leaked badly. I was worn out with fatigue, and dropped asleep one afternoon. I was dreaming that the King of Sweden and Norway came off in a big man-of-war, to welcome me home again. He hailed me himself, with, "Boat, ahoy!" which waked me; and then I saw this ship. You know all the rest of it."

"Do you mean to say you went up the Mediterranean in that old craft?"

"I've told my story, and if you don't believe it, you can look in the almanac, and see whether it is true or not," laughed Ole. "But I must go and show myself to the captain and the big gentleman."

"He's smart—isn't he?" said Sanford, as the young Norwegian went aft to exhibit himself to the officers on the quarter deck.

"Yes; but what's the reason he won't tell how he happened out here in that leaky tub?" added Rodman.

"I don't know; he wouldn't tell the captain, nor the principal."

"I don't understand it."

"No one understands it. Perhaps he has done something wrong, and is afraid of being found out."

"Very likely."

"He's just the fellow for us," said Stockwell, in a low tone, after he had glanced around him, to see that no listeners were near. "He speaks the lingo of this country. We must buy him up."

"Good!" exclaimed Boyden. "We ought not to have let him go till we had fixed his flint."

"I didn't think of it before; but there is time enough. If we can get hold of his story we can manage him without any trouble."

"But he won't tell his story. He wouldn't even let on to the principal."

"No matter; we must have him, somehow or other. Sanford can handle him."

"I don't exactly believe in the scrape," said Burchmore, shaking his head dubiously. "We've heard all about the fellows that used to try to run away from the ship and from the Josephine. They always got caught, and always had the worst of it."

"We are not going to run away, and we are not going to make ourselves liable to any punishment," interposed Sanford, rather petulantly. "We can have a good time on shore without running away, or anything of that sort."

"What's the use?" replied Burchmore.

"The principal isn't going to let us see anything at all of Norway. We are going to put in at Christiansand, and then go to Christiania. We want to see the interior of Norway, for there's glorious fishing in the lakes and rivers—salmon as big as whales."

"I like fishing as well as any fellow, but I don't want to get into a scrape, and have to stay on board when the whole crowd go ashore afterwards. It won't pay."

"But I tell you again, we are not going to run away."

"I don't see how you can manage it without running away. You are going into the interior of Norway on your own hook, without the consent or knowledge of the principal. If you don't call this running away, I don't know what you can call it."

"No matter what we call it, so long as the principal don't call it running away," argued Sanford.

"How can you manage it?" inquired Burchmore.

"I don't know yet; and if I did, I wouldn't tell a fellow who has so many doubts."

"I shall not go into anything till I understand it."

"We don't ask you to do so. As soon as we come to anchor, and see the lay of the land, we can tell exactly what and how to do it. We have plenty of money, and we can have a first-rate time if you only think so. Leave it all to me, and I will bring it out right," continued the confident Sanford, who appeared to be the leader of the little squad.

The traditions of the various runaways who had, at one time and another, attempted to escape from the wholesome discipline and restraint of the Academy, were current on board all the vessels of the squadron. The capture of the Josephine, and her cruise in the English Channel, had been repeated to every new student who joined the fleet, till the story was as familiar to the present students as to those of five years before. There were just as many wild and reckless boys on board now as in the earlier days of the institution, and they were as sorely chafed by the necessary restraints of good order as their predecessors had been. Perhaps it was natural that, visiting a foreign country, they should desire to see all they could of its wonders, and even to look upon some things which it was the policy of the principal to prevent them from seeing.

Whenever any of the various stories of the runaways were related, Sanford, Rodman, Stockwell, and others of similar tendencies, were always ready to point out the defects in the plan of the operators. They could tell precisely where Wilton, Pelham, and Little had been weak, as they termed it, and precisely what they should have done to render the enterprise a success. Still, running away, in the abstract, was not a popular idea in the squadron at the present time; but Sanford believed that he and his companions could enjoy all the benefits of an independent excursion without incurring any of its perils and penalties. Let him demonstrate his own proposition.

Ole Amundsen walked aft, and was kindly greeted by the officers on the quarter-deck, who commented freely upon his improved personal appearance, though they did it in more refined terms than their shipmates on the forecastle had done. Some of them tried to draw from him the explanation of his situation in the leaky boat, but without any better success than had attended the efforts of others. He yielded an extravagant deference to the gold lace on the uniforms of the officers, treating them with the utmost respect.

"Well, Ole, you look better than when I saw you last," said Mr. Lowington.

"Yes, sir; and I feel better," replied Ole, bowing low to the "big gentleman."

"And you speak English very well, indeed."

"Thank you, sir."

"Can you speak Norwegian as well?"

"Yes, sir; better, I hope."

"Monsieur Badois, will you ask him a question or two in Norwegian," added the principal, turning to the professor of modern languages, who prided himself on being able to speak fourteen different tongues; "I begin to doubt whether he is a Norwegian."

"I will, sir," replied monsieur, who was always glad of an opportunity to exhibit his linguistic powers. "Hvor staae det til?" (How do you do?)

"Jeg takker, meget vel." (Very well, I thank you), replied Ole.

"Forstaaer De mig?" (Do you understand me?)

"Ja, jeg forstaaer Dem meget vel." (Yes, I understand you very well.)

"That will do," interposed Mr. Lowington.

"He speaks Norsk very well," added the professor.

"So do you, sir," said Ole, with a low bow to Monsieur Badois.

"Meget vel," laughed the professor.

"I am satisfied, Ole. Now, have you concluded to tell me how you happened to be in that boat, so far from the land."

The waif counted the seams in the quarter-deck, but nothing could induce him to answer the question.

"I have given you a suit of clothes, and I desire to be of service to you."

"I thank you, sir; and a good supper, the best I ever had, though I have often fished with English gentlemen, even with lords and sirs."

"If you will tell me who your friends are—"

"I have no friends, sir."

"You lived on shore, or sailed on the sea, with somebody, I suppose."

Ole looked down, and did not deny the proposition.

"Now, if you will tell me whom you lived with, I may be able to do something for you."

Still the waif was silent.

"Berth No. 72 in the steerage is vacant, and I will give it to you, if I can be sure it is right for me to do so."

But Ole could not, or would not, give any information on this point, though he was earnest in his desire to remain in the ship.

"Very well, Ole; as you will not tell me your story, I shall be obliged to leave you on shore at Christiansand," said the principal, as he walked away.

Dr. Winstock also tried to induce the youth to reveal what he plainly regarded as a secret, but with no different result. Ole passed from the officers to the crew again, and with the latter his answers were like those given to Sanford and his companions. He invented strange explanations, and told wild stories, but not a soul on board was the wiser for anything he said. The waif was permitted to occupy berth No. 72, but was distinctly assured that he must leave the ship when she arrived at Christiansand.

The wind continued light during the night, but at four o'clock in the morning the squadron was off Gunnarshoug Point, and not more than four miles from the land. The shore was fringed with innumerable islands, which made the coast very picturesque, though it was exceedingly barren and desolate. Most of the islands were only bare rocks, the long swells rolling completely over some of the smaller ones. The students on deck watched the early sunrise, and studied the contour of the coast with deep interest, till it became an old story, and then whistled for a breeze to take them along more rapidly towards their port of destination. The fleet was now fully in the Skager Rack, or Sleeve, as it is also called on the British nautical charts.

At eight bells, when, with the forenoon watch, commenced the regular routine of study in the steerage, all the students had seen the Naze, or Lindersnaes, as the Norwegians call it—the southern cape of Norway. It is a reddish headland, beyond which were some hills covered with snow in the spring time. Ole Amundsen remained on deck all day, and had a name for every island and cliff on the coast. He declared that he was competent to pilot the ship into the harbor, for he had often been there. But when the fleet was off Ox-Oe, at the entrance to the port, a regular pilot was taken, at three o'clock in the afternoon. The Josephine and the Tritonia also obtained pilots soon after. The recitations were suspended in order to enable the students to see the harbor.

Ole was wanted to explain the various objects which were presented to the view of the young mariners, but no one had seen him since the pilot came on board. All the habitable parts of the vessel were searched, and the stewards even examined the hold; but he could not be found. Mr. Lowington was anxious to see him, to ascertain whether he had changed his mind in regard to his secret; but Ole had disappeared as strangely as he had come on board of the ship.



The gentle breeze from the southward enabled the fleet to proceed without delay up the fjord to the town of Christiansand; and, as there was very little ship's duty to be done under such circumstances, the students had an excellent opportunity to examine the islands and the main shore. On board the ship and her two consorts the boys swarmed like bees in the rigging, eagerly watching every new object that was presented to their view. As nautical young gentlemen, they criticised the Norwegian boats and vessels that sailed on the bay, comparing them with those of their own country. The two yachts, which were not restrained by any insurance restrictions, stood boldly up the fjord, following closely in the wake of the two schooners.

The course of the vessels up the fjord was through an archipelago, or "garden of rocks," as it is styled in the Norwegian language. The rocky hills in the vicinity were of a reddish color, with a few fir trees upon them. The country was certainly very picturesque, but the students did not regard it as a very desirable place of residence. The fleet passed between the Island of Dybing and the light on Odderoe, and came to anchor in the western harbor. For half an hour the several crews were occupied in furling sails, squaring yards, hauling taut the running rigging, and putting everything in order on board.

The accommodation ladder of the ship, which was a regular flight of stairs, had hardly been rigged before a white barge, pulled by four men, came alongside. The oarsmen were dressed in blue uniform, and wore tarpaulin hats, upon which was painted the word "Grace," indicating the yacht to which they belonged. The bowman fastened his boat-hook to the steps, and the rest of the crew tossed their oars in man-of-war style. In the stern-sheets, whose seats were cushioned with red velvet plush, were three persons, all of whom were old friends of our readers. Captain Paul Kendall, the owner and commander of the Grace, though he is a few inches taller and a few pounds heavier than when we last saw him, was hardly changed in his appearance. Even his side whiskers and mustache did not sensibly alter his looks, for his bright eye and his pleasant smile were still the key to his expression. The Grace carried the American yacht flag, and her commander wore the blue uniform of the club to which he belonged.

Three years before, Paul Kendall had experienced a heavy loss in the death of his mother. She had inherited a very large fortune, which, however, was held in trust for her son, until he reached his majority. At the age of twenty-one, therefore, Paul came to an inheritance bequeathed by his grandfather, which made him a millionnaire. His fortune had been carefully invested by the trustees, and now all he had to do was to collect and spend his income, of which there was a considerable accumulation when he attained his majority. Paul was a young man of high moral and religious principle. He had never spent a dollar in dissipation of any kind, and though he knew the world, he was as child-like and innocent as when he was an infant.

His tastes were decidedly nautical, and the first large expenditure from his ample wealth was in the building of the yacht Grace, which was now anchored near the Young America. She was a beautiful craft in every respect, constructed as strong as wood and iron could make her. As her cabin was to be Paul's home during a portion of the year, it was fitted up with every appliance of comfort, convenience, and luxury. It contained a piano, a large library, and every available means of amusement for the hours of a long passage. At the age of twenty-one, Paul was more mature in experience and knowledge than many young men at twenty-five; and hardly had he been placed in possession of his inheritance than he sailed for Europe, and, of course, hastened from Queenstown to Belfast, where Mr. Arbuckle, father of the lady who occupied the stern-sheets of the barge, resided. Six months later he was married to Grace, who still regarded him as "the apple of her eye."

On his return to New York his yacht was finished, though too late in the season for use that year. Her first voyage in the spring was to Brockway, which was the residence of Mr. Lowington, and the headquarters of the Academy Squadron. Learning that his old friend the principal was about to sail for Europe with his charge, he promptly decided to accompany him, and the Grace was one of the fleet that crossed the Atlantic in April.

Mrs. Kendall was dressed in a plain travelling suit. She was taller and more mature than when she went down the Rhine with the Young Americans, but she was not less beautiful and interesting.

If Fortune had been very kind to Paul Kendall, she had not been so constant to all who formerly sailed in the Young America, and who had then basked in her sunny smile. The third person in the stern-sheets of the barge was Mr. Augustus Pelham. He was a fine-looking fellow, with a heavy mustache, dressed like his commander, in the uniform of the yacht club. By one of those disasters common in American mercantile experience, Pelham's father had suddenly been hurled from apparent affluence to real poverty. Being well advanced in years, he could do nothing better for himself and his family than to accept a situation as secretary of an insurance company, which afforded him a salary only sufficient to enable him to live in comfort. Augustus had completed his course in the Academy ship when the change of circumstances compelled him to abandon all luxurious habits, and work for his own living. This was by no means a calamity to him, any more than to other young men. Doubtless it was annoying to have his allowance of pocket money suddenly stopped, and to find himself face to face with one of the sternest realities of life. His training in the Academy ship had been a blessing to him, for it had reformed his life, and elevated his tastes above the low level of dissipation. It had made a new man of him, besides preparing him for a useful calling. He was competent, so far as nautical skill and knowledge were concerned, to command any vessel to any part of the world, though he lacked the necessary experience in the management of a miscellaneous crew, and in the transaction of business. He was ready to accept a situation as chief or second mate of a ship, when he happened to meet Paul Kendall, and was immediately engaged as chief officer of the Grace, at a salary of one hundred dollars a month. Another ex-student of the ship, Bennington, upon whose father fickle Fortune had not continued to smile, had been appointed second officer. Pelham had shipped the crew of the Grace, and no better set of men ever trod a deck.

The barge came up to the steps, and Paul and Pelham assisted Mrs. Kendall out of the boat, and the three went upon the deck of the ship. Mr. Lowington, who had not seen them, except at a distance, since the fleet sailed from Brockway harbor, gave them a warm greeting, shaking hands heartily with the lady first, and then with her companions.

"I am glad to see you looking so well, Mrs. Kendall," said the principal.

"I have enjoyed myself every moment of the voyage, and have never been sick a single hour," she replied.

"We have had a fine passage, and there was no excuse for an old salt like you to be sick," laughed the principal.

"But I think we shall go on shore, and stay at a hotel a few days, just for a change," added Paul.

"That's a good plan; of course you will see more of the town and the people, than if you remain in your yacht."

"I am sure I like the cabin of the yacht better than any hotel I ever visited," laughed Mrs. Kendall.

"But a change will do you good, my dear," suggested Paul.

"What did you pick up last evening, when you hove to, Mr. Lowington?"

"We picked up a young Norwegian, about sixteen years old," answered the principal, detailing the circumstances under which Ole had been taken on board.

"Where is he now?" asked Paul, looking about him to obtain a sight of the stranger.

"We clothed and fed him, and had become quite interested in him; but just as the pilot came alongside we missed him. I have had the ship searched for him, but we have not been able to find him, though he must be concealed somewhere on board."

"That's strange!" exclaimed Mrs. Kendall, glancing at her husband.

"Perhaps not very strange," continued the principal. "The boy refused to tell us how he came in an open boat, half full of water, and out of sight of land. Probably he has run away from his friends, and has concealed himself to avoid being recognized by the pilot, or other Norwegian people who may come on board. I judged by his appearance that he had some reason for running away from his master or his friends, for he was only half clothed, in the filthiest rags that ever covered a human being."

"I should like a Norwegian in my yacht, to act as interpreter for us," added Paul.

"I intended to keep him for that purpose myself, if I could ascertain who his friends were, and make an arrangement with them, for I will not encourage any boy in running away from his employers. Very likely we shall find him again in the course of the day."

"Very well, sir; if you want him, I will look out for some one on shore," added Paul. "At what time do you pipe to lecture, Mr. Lowington?"

"Not before to-morrow forenoon, at two bells."

"I want to hear the lecture."

"So do I," laughed Mrs. Kendall. "I think it is a capital idea to have a professor tell us all about a country before we attempt to see it. I used to read about the Norsemen, but I have forgotten all about them now, and I want to refresh my memory."

"I wish all our boys had the same view of the matter," said Mr. Lowington.

"We will come on board before nine to-morrow morning, sir," added Paul, as he handed his lady up the steps over the rail.

Descending to the boat, the three oarsmen shoved off, and pulled for the shore, where they landed. The boat had not reached the land, before another barge, the counterpart of the first, and similarly manned, left the Feodora, and pulled alongside the ship. Mr. Robert Shuffles, the owner and commander of the second yacht, assisted his wife up the ladder to the deck of the ship, where they were cordially received by the principal. The yacht Feodora was only six months older than the Grace, for which she had served as the model. Shuffles had not come into possession of any inheritance yet, but his father was as liberal as he was wealthy, and gave his son an annual allowance, which enabled him to marry and keep a yacht. He and Paul had been intimate friends since they were graduated from the Academy ship, and they had made their plans in concert. He had married Lady Feodora a year before, and she had now dropped her aristocratic title, and become a republican lady. Like her husband, she had acquired nautical tastes, and was even more enthusiastic than he in anticipating the pleasures of a yacht cruise up the Baltic, and up the Mediterranean. Shuffles had not been so fortunate as Paul in finding needy graduates of the Academy to officer his yacht, and a fat old shipmaster served as first officer in the Feodora, while the second mate was a young tar, not yet of age. Having paid their respects to the principal, the young couple returned to the boat, and followed Paul to the hotel on shore.

"That's the way to go about Europe," said Sanford, who was sitting on the rail with several of his shipmates.

"What's the way?" asked Stockwell.

"Why, as Kendall and Shuffles do it—in a yacht, with no Latin and geometry to bother their heads, and no decks to wash down on a cold morning."

"That's so; but those fellows were the lambs of the squadron, we are told," laughed Stockwell. "They didn't have black marks; didn't pick upon the professors, and didn't run away from the ship."

"What has all that to do with yachting?" asked Rodman.

"They were good boys, and therefore they have yachts as their reward," replied Stockwell, laughing.

"Pelham was as good as Shuffles, but he has no yacht, and has to work on a salary for his living."

"He has the fun of it all the same, and Paul Kendall will not overwork him. But I haven't a word to say against them. They were all good fellows, if they were the ship's lambs."

"All the second cutters!" shouted the boatswain's mate, after his pipe had sounded through the ship.

"That means us," said Sanford. "Take your money and pea-jackets, fellows. Something may turn up before we come back."

"Ay, ay," replied Stockwell. "Pass the word to all our fellows."

In a few moments the fourth cutters appeared in the waist, with pea-jackets on their arms, and touched their caps to De Forrest, the fourth lieutenant, who appeared as the officer detailed to go in the boat, which now, as formally, was called the professors' barge, because it was generally appropriated to the use of the instructors. It was pulled by eight oarsmen, and Sanford was the coxswain. The party who had been considering the plan for an independent excursion on shore without incurring the perils and penalties of running away, were the crew of the second cutter. The fact of being together so much in the boat, had united them so that they acted and plotted in concert.

"What are you going to do with those pea-jackets?" asked De Forrest, when he saw their extra clothing.

"It's rather chilly up here in the evening, and we thought we might want them, while we were waiting," replied Sanford.

"I don't think it is very cold, and as to the evening, the sun don't set till about eight o'clock," added the officer, as he went aft to the professors who were going on shore, and reported that the boat was ready; for it had already been lowered into the water, and made fast to the swinging boom.

Her crew went over the side, and seated themselves in the cutter.

"Ready!" said the coxswain, as the stern-sheets of the barge ranged alongside the little stage at the foot of the ladder. "Up oars!"

Up went the eight oars to a perpendicular position, where they were held till the boat should be ready to go.

"I wonder where Ole is," said Sanford.

"Sh!" whispered Stockwell, who pulled the bow oar, shaking his head with energy.

"What do you mean?" demanded the coxswain, in a low tone, for he was very much mystified by the pantomime of the bow oarsman.

"Don't say a word."

"Where is he?" persisted Sanford, who was not willing to have a secret kept from him even for a moment.

Stockwell pointed into the bottom of the boat, and then looked up at the sky, with an affectation of cunning, while the rest of the crew smiled as though they were in possession of the secret. Sanford said no more, and joined the bowman in studying the aspect of the sky. Ole was in the boat to act as guide and interpreter, and if they chose to leave without running away, everything seemed to be favorable to the enterprise. Mr. Mapps and Dr. Winstock presently descended the steps, and seated themselves in the boat, followed by De Forrest.

"All ready, coxswain," said the latter.

"Ready! Let fall!" said Sanford, as he shoved off the stern of the cutter. "Give way—together!"

The well-trained crew bent to their oars, and the boat shot away from the ship towards the shore. Mr. Mapps was going to the town to obtain some additional material for his lecture the following morning, and the surgeon intended to call on Paul Kendall and lady at the hotel.

"This is a very picturesque town, doctor," said Mr. Mapps, as he gazed at the high, rocky steeps which surround Christiansand.

"Very; and I am rather sorry we are not to see more of the environs of the place," replied the surgeon. "I understand we sail to-morrow night."

"I dare say the students will see enough of Norway before they leave it."

"We want to go into the interior," said De Forrest. "There is fine fishing in the streams of Norway."

"Very likely Mr. Lowington will take you into the interior from Christiania," suggested Dr. Winstock.

"I don't exactly see how it is possible to do so," added Mr. Mapps. "The only conveyance of the country is the cariole, which seats but one person—perhaps two boys; and our squadron has nearly two hundred students. I am afraid there are not carioles enough in Christiania to carry the whole of them."

"I think it's too bad we can't have a trial at the salmon," pouted De Forrest.

"Perhaps, if you waited till July, you might catch them," replied Mr. Mapps.

"We should be contented with trout, then."

"I have no doubt Mr. Lowington will do the best he can for you," said Dr. Winstock, as the boat neared the pier.

"In, bows!" called the coxswain; and the two bowmen tossed and boated their oars, taking their stations in the fore-sheets, one of them with the boat-hook in his hand. "Way enough!" added Sanford; and the rest of the crew tossed their oars, and then dropped them upon the thwarts, with a precision which seemed to astonish the group of Norwegians on the wharf, who were observing them.

The two gentlemen landed, and walked up to the town together, leaving the barge to wait for them.

"Part of you may go on shore for half an hour, if you wish, and walk about," said De Forrest to his crew.

"I don't care about going ashore," replied Sanford.

"Nor I either," added Stockwell; and so they all said, very much to the astonishment of the fourth lieutenant, who naturally supposed that boys who had been at sea about four weeks would like to stretch their legs on the solid land for a short time.

"Don't any of you wish to go on shore?" he inquired.

"Not yet," replied Sanford. "If you wish to take a walk, I will push off from the shore, and wait till you return," said Sanford, very respectfully.

"What's up? You won't go on shore, and you wish me to do so!" exclaimed the suspicious officer.

"Nothing, sir," protested Sanford. "We don't intend to run away. We think that is played out."

"If you wanted to do so in this desolate country, I would let you do it, if I were the principal. But you are up to some trick, I know."

"What trick, sir?" demanded the coxswain, innocently.

"I don't know, but it is your next move," replied De Forrest, as he seated himself, and seemed confident of his ability to check any mischief which might be in the minds of his crew. "Shove off, bowman! Up oars! Let fall! Give way together!"

The oarsmen, rather vexed at the turn of events, obeyed the several orders, and the boat was again cutting the still waters of the fjord. All around them were rocks, with several large and small islands in sight. In various places on the rocks were affixed iron rings, to which vessels could make fast in warping out of the bay when the wind was light or foul. A portion of the rock to which they were attached was whitewashed, so that the rings could easily be found, even in the night. To one of these rings, on a small island near Odderoe, which commanded a full view of the landing-place, De Forrest directed the coxswain to steer the boat.

"Make fast to that ring," said the officer.

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the bowman.

"Perhaps you would like to land here," added the lieutenant, in a jeering tone, as though he felt that he had checkmated his crew in any evil purpose they entertained. "Whether you do or not, I think I shall stretch my legs on these rocks."

De Forrest leaped from thwart to thwart, and then over the bow upon the island, as though he felt nothing but contempt for the power of the boat's crew to do mischief. He walked up the rough rocks to the summit of the islet, where he paused, and for the first time glanced at his companions, whom he suspected of harboring some design against the peace and dignity of the ship. As he did so, he discovered a steamer, which had just passed through the narrow opening between Odderoe and the main land, and whose course lay close to the point of the island where the cutter was moored. He saw that the swash of the steamer was likely to throw the boat on the rocks, and grind her planking upon the sharp points of the island.

"In the boat!" he shouted, lustily. "Shove off!"

Sanford saw the danger which the lieutenant wished to avert, and promptly obeyed the orders.

"Shove off, Stockwell!" he promptly shouted. "Up oars! Stern, all! Give way!"

Stockwell gave a tremendously hard push when he shoved off, and the cutter shot far out upon the still waters; in fact, so far that she was forced directly into the way of the approaching steamer.

"Oars!" yelled the coxswain furiously, when he saw that he had overdone the matter. "Hold water! Go ahead! Give way!"

The crew, even in this moment of deadly peril,—for it looked as though, in another instant, they would all be under the wheels of the steamer,—obeyed every command with their wonted precision. But it was a second too late to take the back track. If the boat had continued to back as at first, she would probably have escaped, for the steamer put her helm a-starboard a little, in order to favor her manoeuvre. When a collision seemed inevitable, the steamer's bell was rung to stop her, and then to back her.

She struck the cutter; but as her progress had been powerfully checked, the blow did not carry her under, though it stove in the side of the boat. The water poured in through the broken broadside, and the crew sprang for their lives. They leaped upon the guys and bob-stays of the steamer, and were hauled in by the people on the bow.

"Come out of there, Ole," said Stockwell, as he pulled the boat's sail from the extended form of the waif, who was concealed in the bottom of the boat.

Ole lost not a moment in following the example of his companions. As the steamer's headway had now been entirely checked, Stockwell held the wrecked cutter in her position, while Rodman passed the pea-jackets up to the forecastle of the steamer. Having done this, they abandoned the boat, and followed the example of their companions. No one was drowned, or even wet above his knees, for the steamer had struck the boat just hard enough to stave in her side, without carrying her under.

The Norwegians hooked up the boat's painter, and taking it in tow, proceeded on her course; for the captain—as interpreted by Ole—declared that his boat carried the mail, and he could not wait for anything.



"Clear away the first cutter!" shouted the first lieutenant of the Young America, from whose deck the catastrophe to the second cutter had been observed.

"All the first cutters!" piped the boatswain, with an energy inspired by the stirring occasion.

"That was very carelessly done," said Mr. Lowington, whose attention had been called to the scene.

"The steamer ran within a couple of rods of the island," added Captain Cumberland. "I saw the fourth lieutenant order the boat to shove off; I suppose he did it to prevent the swash of the steamer from grinding the cutter on the rocks."

"What is he doing among those rocks?" asked the principal.

"I don't know, sir. He landed Mr. Mapps and the doctor, and was ordered to wait for them. I don't see why he went over to that island."

The second lieutenant was directed to take charge of the first cutter; Peaks, the adult boatswain, and Bitts, the carpenter, were ordered to go also, to render any assistance which might be required in succoring the stove boat. The cutter shoved off, her twelve oars struck the water together, and the crew gave way with an energy which caused their oars to bend like twigs, while the barge leaped through the water as though it was some monster of the deep goaded to his utmost to escape the wrath of a more potent pursuer.

"With a will, my lads!" shouted the coxswain. "Steady! Keep the stroke, but use your muscle!"

"There's a job for you, Bitts," said the boatswain, as the Norwegian took the second cutter in tow.

"And a heavy job it will be, too," replied Bitts. "I wonder there is anything left of the boat."

"The steamer stopped her wheels, and backed some time before she struck, or there would not have been much left of the boat, or her crew," added Peaks. "Thank God, the boys are all safe."

"It's a lucky escape for them."

"So it was; and we needn't say anything about the boat."

"The steamer is going ahead," said the carpenter.

"No matter for that, so long as the boys are all safe," replied Peaks.

The people in the steamer seemed to take no notice of the first cutter, appearing not to understand that it had come out for the wrecked crew. But as the boat pulled towards her, she cast off the cutter in tow.

"Steamer, ahoy!" shouted Norwood, the second lieutenant, as he saw the cutter cast adrift.

She made no reply, but hoisted a flag, on which appeared the word "Post," with something else which none in the first cutter could understand.

"She's a mail boat," said the boatswain; "and I suppose she intends to say she is in a hurry."

"Does she mean to carry off the crew of that boat?" demanded the second lieutenant, not a little vexed at the conduct of the Norwegians.

"She will not carry them far," suggested Dunlap, the coxswain.

"She may take them to Bergen."

"I think not, sir. If she is a mail steamer, she stops at all the ports on the coast. I don't think she will carry them far. Very likely they will be sent back, on some other steamer, before night," added Dunlap, who had studied the coast of Norway more carefully than the lieutenant in command.

"First cutter, ahoy!" shouted De Forrest, on the island.

"On shore!" replied Norwood. "We can't catch the steamer—that is certain; steer for the island, coxswain."

The first cutter ran up to the rocky island, and as soon as the bow touched the rocks, De Forrest leaped into the fore-sheets. He was nervous and excited, feeling, perhaps, that he had failed in his duty, and was, therefore, responsible for the accident to the second cutter. From feeling that he had circumvented his crew in carrying out some unexplained trick, he realized that he had led them into a trap, from which they had narrowly escaped with their lives.

"What are you doing on this island, De Forrest?" asked Norwood, as the discomfited officer took his place in the stern-sheets, and the boat shoved off again.

The second lieutenant declared that he had come over to the island to prevent his crew from running away, or from carrying out some trick whose existence he suspected, but whose nature he could not comprehend.

"Sanford wanted I should go ashore at the town, and offered to look out for the crew while I did so," he continued. "Of course I wouldn't leave my crew; but I told them that half of them might go on shore and take a walk. None of them wanted to go, and then I was satisfied they were up to something. I went on the island for the sole purpose of watching them. I wanted to know what their plan was."

"Well, what did you discover?"

"Nothing at all. I saw that steamer coming, and I ordered Sanford to shove off, so that her swash should not damage the boat."

"I don't believe they intended to play any trick," added Norwood. "You are too suspicious, De Forrest."

"Perhaps I am; but fellows that have been at sea for a month are rather glad of a chance to stretch their legs on shore. They wouldn't do so, when I told them they might; and I don't believe such a thing was ever heard of before. Besides, they all looked as though they were up to something, and just as though they had a big secret in their heads."

"Perhaps you were right, but I don't believe you were," said Norwood, too bluntly for good manners, and too bluntly for the harmony of the officers' mess.

"I suppose I am responsible for the smashing of the second cutter, but I was trying to do my duty," replied De Forrest, vexed at the implied censure of his superior.

"If you had staid at the pier this could not have happened."

"But something else might have happened; and if my crew had run away, I should have been blamed just as much," growled the second lieutenant.

"You were too sharp for your own good—that is all. But I don't mean to blame you, De Forrest," said Norwood, with a patronizing smile. "Perhaps I should have done the same thing if I had been in your place."

"Stand by to lay on your oars!" shouted the coxswain, as the boat approached the water-logged second cutter. "Oars!"

The crew stopped pulling, and levelled their oars.

"In, bows! Stand by the boat-hooks!" continued the coxswain; and the two forward oarsmen grasped the boat-hooks, and took their station in the fore-sheets. "Hold water." And the ten oars dropped into the water as one, checking the onward progress of the cutter.

The bowmen fastened to the second cutter, and recovering her painter, passed it astern to the coxswain, who made it fast to a ring on the stern-board. By this time the steamer, with the luckless crew of the stove boat, had disappeared behind an island. The first cutter pulled back to the ship, and De Forrest immediately reported to the first lieutenant, and explained his conduct in presence of the principal and the captain. He detailed his reasons for supposing his crew intended to run away, or to play some trick upon him.

"I think you have done all that a careful and vigilant officer could, De Forrest; and so far as I can see, you are free from blame," replied Mr. Lowington.

The fourth lieutenant glanced at Norwood.

"Just what I said," added the latter, in a low tone.

"If you made any mistake, it was in leaving your boat at the island," continued the principal.

"Just exactly my sentiments," whispered Norwood. "I don't blame the fourth lieutenant, but I shouldn't have done just as he did."

"Where is that steamer bound?" asked Mr. Lowington of the pilot, who had not yet left the ship, and was really waiting to be invited to supper.

"To Christiania, sir," replied the pilot, who, like all of his class on the coast of Norway, spoke a little English.

"Where does she stop next?"

"At Lillesand."

"How far is that?"

"About two miles."

"Two miles! Why, it is farther than that to the sea," exclaimed Mr. Lowington.

"He means Norwegian miles," suggested one of the instructors, who was listening with interest to the conversation.

"True; I did not think of that. A Norwegian mile is about seven English miles. It is fourteen miles, then, to Lillesand."

With the assistance of Professor Badois, who acted as interpreter, the pilot explained that the steamer which had just left was several hours late, and would go that night to Frederiksvaern, where the steamers from Bergen and Christiania made connections with the boat for Gottenburg and Copenhagen. The Christiania steamer would reach Christiansand the next evening, and the boys who had been carried away could return in her.

"Why did she carry them off? It would not have taken five minutes to land them," added the principal.

"She was very late, and her passengers for Gottenburg and Copenhagen would lose the steamer at Frederiksvaern if she does not arrive in season," the pilot explained through Professor Badois.

But Mr. Lowington was so grateful that the crew of the second cutter had all escaped with their lives, that he was not disposed to be very critical over the conduct of the Norwegian steamer. The boys were safe, and would return the next night at farthest. The accident was talked about, during the rest of the day, on board of all the vessels of the squadron. The officers and seamen on board of the ship had witnessed the accident, and had seen all the crew of the second cutter go over the bows of the steamer. They had not observed, in the excitement of the moment, that ten, instead of nine, had left the wrecked boat; and as Ole Amundsen was dressed precisely like the crew, his presence in the cutter was not even suspected.

The first cutter was sent to the town for Dr. Winstock and Mr. Mapps, and in an hour or two the excitement had entirely subsided. The routine of the ship went on as before, and as there was little work to be done, the absentees were hardly missed.

At half past eight the next morning, the signal, "All hands, attend lecture," was flying on board of the Young America. The boats from the Josephine and the Tritonia came alongside the ship, bringing all the officers and crews of those vessels. Paul Kendall and lady, and their friends, were brought off from the shore; Shuffles and his wife also appeared, and a further delegation from each of the yachts asked admission to the ship to hear the lecture, or rather to attend the exercise in geography and history, for the occasion was even less formal than on the first cruise of the ship. The steerage was crowded, after the boatswain had piped the call, and Mr. Mapps was doubtless duly flattered by the number of his audience. On the foremast hung a large map of Sweden and Norway.

"If you please, young gentlemen, we will begin with Scandinavia," said the professor, taking his place near the foremast, with the pointer in his hand. "What was Scandinavia?"

"The ancient name of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark," replied one of the students.

"The barbarous tribes from the northern part of Europe at different times invaded the southern sections, conquering various other tribes, occupying their territory, and thus mingling with all the people from whom originated the present nations of Europe. Thus, in remote ages, the Scandinavians, among others, by their conquests and their emigration, have contributed largely to the modern elements of society. With this explanation we will look at Scandinavia in detail, beginning with Norway. Between what degrees of latitude does it lie?"

"Between forty and ninety," replied an enthusiastic youth.

"True—quite right; and a safe answer. If you had said between one and ninety, the answer would have been just as good for any other country as for Norway. I would like to have the jacket fit a little closer."

"Between fifty-eight and seventy-one, north," answered one who was better posted.

"Exactly right; about the same latitude as Greenland, and our newly-acquired Alaska. Our ship is anchored in the same parallel as the northern part of Labrador, and one degree south of the southern point of Greenland. But it is not as 'cold as Greenland, here,' the temperature being some twelve degrees milder, because the warm waters of the Gulf Stream are discharged upon its shores. You know its boundaries. It is one thousand and eighty miles from the Naze to the North Cape, and varies from forty to two hundred and seventy miles in width. How many square miles has it?"

"One hundred and twenty-three thousand square miles."

"Or a little larger than the six New England States, New York, and New Jersey united. The country is mountainous, and abounds in picturesque scenery. Precipices, cataracts, and rushing torrents are very numerous in the central and northern parts. The Voeringfos is a waterfall, and the Rjukanfos, near the central part, are cataracts of about nine hundred feet perpendicular descent; but of course the volume of water is not very large. The highest mountains are between eight and nine thousand feet high. Norway has an abundance of rivers, but none of them are very long. The coast, as you have seen, is fringed with islands, which, with the numerous indentations, form a vast number of bays, straits, channels, and sounds, which are called fjords here. One of the principal of these is Christiania Fjord, which you will ascend in a few days. The country also abounds in lakes, which, as in most mountainous regions, are very narrow, being simply the widenings of the rivers. The largest of these is Mioesen Lake, fifty-five miles long, and from one to twelve wide.

"The soil is not very good, and the Norwegians are not progressive farmers. They cling to the methods of their sires, and modern improvements find but little favor among them. The winter is long, and the summer short; but by a provision of provident nature, the crops mature more rapidly than in some of the southern climes, as grain has been reaped six weeks after it was sowed. The principal crops are the grains; but the supply is not equal to the demand, and considerable importations are received from Denmark and Russia. In the south the farmers devote themselves to stock-raising, while in the north the Lapps derive nearly all the comforts of life from the reindeer, the care of which is their chief industry.

"The extensive product of pine and fir have created a vast trade in lumber, which constitutes three fourths of the exports to the United Kingdom, and a considerable portion of the inhabitants in the wooded districts are employed in cutting, sawing, and sending to market the wealth of the forests. Next in importance to this are the fisheries, which yield about five million dollars a year. Cod, haddock, and herring are cured for exportation, and are an important source of revenue. Besides these, the roe of the cod is sent to France, Italy, and Spain, as bait for sardines. Norway supplies London with lobsters. Norway iron, as well as Swedish, is very celebrated; but the mines are poorly managed, as are those of copper and silver.

"The kingdom of Norway is divided into eighteen provinces, which are called Amts. Its population, in 1865, was one million seven hundred thousand, showing an increase of about two hundred thousand in ten years. The government is a constitutional monarchy."

"I thought it was a part of Sweden," said one of the students.

"Not at all. The King of Sweden is also the King of Norway; but each country has its own independent and separate government. Each has its own legislature, makes its own laws, and raises and expends its own revenues. The king exercises his functions as ruler over both kingdoms through a council of state, composed of an equal number of Swedes and Norwegians, whose duty it is to advise the sovereign, and, in accordance with a peculiar feature of monarchy, to take the responsibility when any blunder is made; for "the king can do no wrong." If anything is wrong, some one else did it. Having the same king, who rules over each nation separately, is the only connection between Norway and Sweden. The former pays about one hundred and twenty thousand dollars of his civil list, and he is obliged to reside in Norway during a small portion of each year.

"The constitution of Norway is one of the most democratic in Europe. The legislative and part of the executive power is vested in the Storthing, which means the 'great court,' composed of the representatives of the people. The king has but little power, though he has a limited veto upon the acts passed by the legislative body. He can create no order of nobility, or grant any titles or dignities. The members of the Storthing are elected indirectly by the people; and when they assemble, they divide themselves into two houses, corresponding to our Senate and House of Representatives. All acts must pass both chambers, and in case of disagreement, the two bodies come together, and discuss the subject.

"The religion of Norway is Lutheran, and few of any other sect are to be found; formerly, no other was tolerated, but now religious freedom prevails, though Jesuits and monks of any order are sternly excluded. The clergy, who are generally very well educated, have an average income of about a thousand dollars a year, and I think are better paid than even in our own country. The people are well instructed, and one who cannot read and write is seldom found.

"The early history of Norway is that of most of the countries of Europe—a powerful chief subjugated his neighbors, and united the tribes into a nation. Harold the Fair-haired, whose father had conquered the southern part of the country, fell in love with Gyda, the daughter of a petty king, who refused to wed him till he had absolute sway over the entire country. Pleased with the lady's spirit, he vowed never to cut or comb his hair till all Norway lay at his feet. It appears that he eventually had occasion for his barber's services, and wedded the lady. This was in the ninth century; and the victories of Harold drove many of the Norsemen, or Northmen, to seek their fortunes in other lands. They discovered and colonized Greenland and Iceland, and even established settlements on the continental portion of North America. Traces of them have been found on the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and some claim that they founded settlements farther south. They figure largely in the early history of England and Scotland, and even carried their piratical arms into Russia, Flanders, France, Italy, and other territories.

"A son of Harold, who had been educated in England, brought Christianity into Norway; but, it was three centuries before the new faith had established itself. Like the Hindoos, Greeks, and Romans, the ancient Scandinavians had a mythology, upon which their religion was based. They believed that in the beginning all was chaos, in which was a fountain that sent forth twelve rivers. These streams flowed so far from their source that the waters froze, and the ice, defying the modern law of nature, sank till the fathomless deep was filled up. Far south of the world of mist, in which this miracle was wrought, was a world of fire and light, whence proceeded a hot wind that melted the ice, from the drops of which came the ice-giant, whose name was Ymir, and from whom proceeded a race of ice-giants. From the wedding of the ice and heat of the two extremes of the world came a cow, from which ran four streams of milk, the food of the ice-giants. While this wonderful beast was licking the salt stones in the ice, which formed her diet, a quantity of human hair grew out of them, and the next day a human head was developed, and then appeared a whole man. Boer, the son of this man, married a daughter of one of the ice-giants, and they had three children, the oldest of whom was Odin, who became the rulers of heaven and earth, because they were all good, while the children of Ymir, the ice-giant, were evil. Then, as now, the Good and the Evil were at war. Finally the ice-giant was slain, and being thrown into space, the world was created from his body; his blood forming the sea and the rivers; his flesh the earth; his hair the grass; his bones the rocks; his teeth and broken jaws the stones; and of his head the heavens, at the four ends of which were placed four dwarfs, called North, South, East, and West. Of this giant's brains, thrown into the air, they formed the clouds, while of the sparks from the land of fire were made the stars.

"As the sons of Boer, who, you must remember, were the gods of heaven and earth, were walking on the shore of the sea, they discovered two blocks, whereof they created a man and a woman. Odin gave them life and souls, while his brothers endowed them with other human faculties and powers. Odin was the Jupiter, the chief, of the northern gods. He is the god of song and of war, and was the inventor of the Runic characters, or alphabet. He was the ruler of Valhalla, the home of heroes slain in battle. There is much more that is curious and interesting in the mythology of the Scandinavians, which I must ask you to read for yourselves.

"Olaf II. propagated Christianity with fire and sword. He demolished the temples of paganism, and founded Trondhjem, or Drontheim, as it is called on our maps. His successor, St. Olaf, followed his example, till his cruelty excited a rebellion, and Canute the Great, of Denmark, landing in Norway, was elected king. Olaf fled into Sweden, where he organized an army, and attempted to recover his throne; but he was defeated and slain in a battle near Trondhjem. His body was found, a few years later, in a perfect state of preservation, which was regarded as a miracle, and Olaf was canonized as a saint. His remains are said to have wrought many miracles, and up to the time of the Reformation, thousands of pilgrims annually visited his shrine at Trondhjem. Even in London churches were dedicated to this saint.

"Canute gave Norway to his son Sweyn, who, upon the death of his father, was dispossessed of the throne by Magnus I., the son of St. Olaf. He was succeeded by Harold III., a great warrior, who founded Osloe, now Christiania. After Olaf III. and Magnus III. came Sigurd, who, in 1107, made a pilgrimage of four years to Jerusalem, with a fleet of sixty vessels, and distinguished himself in the holy wars. His death was followed by civil dissensions, until Hako IV. obtained the throne. He lost his life in an attempt to retain the Hebrides Islands, claimed by Scotland. Then war with Denmark, the monopoly of trade by the Hanse towns, and a fearful plague, which depopulated whole sections, produced a decline in the national prosperity of Norway. Hako VI., who died in 1380, had married the daughter of the King of Denmark, and the crown of Norway descended to his son, Olaf III., of Denmark, in whom the sovereignties of Norway and Denmark were united. Olaf was succeeded by his mother Margaret, celebrated in history as 'the Semiramis of the North.' She conquered Sweden, and annexed it to her own dominions. By the 'Union of Calmar,' signed by the principal nobles and prelates of the three Scandinavian kingdoms, the three crowns were united in one person, the subjects of each to have equal rights. This compact was disregarded, and Norway was hopelessly oppressed by the ruler. The Union, however, continued till 1623; but Norway was subject to Denmark till 1814.

"When the allied powers of Europe, which were engaged in putting down the first Napoleon, rearranged the map of Europe, the destiny of Norway was changed. Russia wanted Finland, and she offered Norway in compensation for it to Sweden, with the further condition that Bernadotte should join the allies. He accepted the terms, and the King of Denmark was compelled, by force of arms, to cede Norway to Sweden. The Norwegians would not submit to the change, and declared their independence. Prince Christian, of Denmark, who was then governor general of Norway, called a convention of the people at Eidsvold, and a new constitution was framed, and the prince elected King of Norway. Bernadotte invaded Norway with a Swedish army, while the allies blockaded the coast. Resistance was hopeless, and as Sweden offered favorable terms, Christian abdicated, and an arrangement was immediately effected. The constitution was accepted by the king, and Norway became an independent nation, united to Sweden under one king. Bernadotte became King of Sweden and Norway under the title of Charles XIV., John. He refused the Norwegians a separate national flag; but when he attempted to alter the constitution to suit his own views, the Storthing resolutely and successfully resisted his interference. This body abolished titles of nobility—an act which the king vetoed; but three successive Storthings passed the law, and thus, by the constitution, made it valid in spite of the veto. The Norwegians were not to be intimidated even by the appearance of a military force, and have ever been jealous to the last degree of their rights and privileges as a nation.

"Bernadotte was succeeded by his son Oscar I., who gave the Norwegians a separate national flag; and he flattered the vanity of the people by allowing himself to be styled the 'King of Norway and Sweden' in all public acts relating to Norway, instead of 'Sweden and Norway.' In 1859, Oscar was succeeded by his son Charles XV., who is now the King of Sweden and Norway. In the history of Denmark and Sweden, more will be said of this kingdom.

"In French, Norway is Norvege; in German, Norwegen; in Spanish, Noruega; and Norge in the Scandinavian languages. Now, I dare say you would like to visit the shore."

The professor closed his remarks, and the several boatswains piped away their crews.



Belonging to the squadron were fourteen boats, ranging from the twelve-oar barge down to the four-oar cutter. In the waters of Brockway harbor, rowing had been the principal exercise of the students, though the daily evolutions in seamanship were well calculated to develop the muscles and harden the frame. They had been carefully trained in the art, and, enjoying the amusement which it afforded, they were apt scholars. As the safety of the squadron and the saving of life at sea might often depend upon the skill with which the boats were handled, the principal devoted a great deal of attention to this branch of nautical education. To give an additional zest to the exercise, he had occasionally offered prizes at the boat-races which the students were encouraged to pull; and the first cutter was now in possession of a beautiful silk flag, won by the power of the crew in rowing.

Every boy in the squadron was a swimmer. In the summer season this accomplishment had been taught as an art, an hour being devoted to the lesson every day, if the weather was suitable. Cleats, the adult boatswain of the Josephine, was the "professor" of the art, having been selected for the responsible position on account of his remarkable skill as a swimmer. The boys were trained in diving, floating, swimming under water, and taught to perform various evolutions. Not alone in the tranquil bay were they educated to the life of the fishes, but also in the surf, and among the great waves. They were taught to get into a boat from the water in a heavy sea. A worn-out old longboat had done duty during the preceding summer as a wreck, in order to familiarize the students with the possibilities of their future experience. It was so prepared that a portion of its planking could be suddenly knocked out, and the boat almost instantly filled with water; and the problem was, to meet this emergency in the best manner. Other boats were at hand in case of a real accident, or if any naturally timid fellow lost his presence of mind. While the "wreck," as the practice boat was called, was moving along over the waves, pulled by half a dozen boys, Cleats, without warning or notice of his intention, opened the aperture near her keel. Sometimes she was loaded with stones, so that she went to the bottom like a rock, though this part of the programme was always carried out on a beach, where the receding tide would enable the professor to recover the boat. The crew were then to save themselves by swimming ashore, or to another boat. Sometimes, also, the "wreck" was loaded with broken spars, pieces of board, and bits of rope; and the problem was for the crew to construct a raft in the water, often in a rough sea. All these exercises, and many others, were heartily enjoyed by the boys, and a ringing cheer always announced the safety of a crew, either on the shore, in a boat, or on the raft.

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