woman of the saeter").

"Some foolish superstition about the place, I suppose," said Michael.
"In these mountain solitudes men breed ghosts for company. Let us
make a fire. Perhaps, when he sees the light, his desire for food
and shelter may get the better of his fears."

We felt about in the small enclosure round the house, and gathered
juniper and birch-twigs, and kindled a fire upon the open stove built
in the corner of the room. Fortunately, we had some dried reindeer
and bread in our bag, and on that and the ryper and the contents of
our flasks we supped. Afterwards, to while away the time, we made an
inspection of the strange eyrie we had lighted on.

It was an old log-built saeter. Some of these mountain farmsteads
are as old as the stone ruins of other countries. Carvings of
strange beasts and demons were upon its blackened rafters, and on the
lintel, in runic letters, ran this legend: "Hund builded me in the
days of Haarfager." The house consisted of two large apartments.
Originally, no doubt, these had been separate dwellings standing
beside one another, but they were now connected by a long, low
gallery. Most of the scanty furniture was almost as ancient as the
walls themselves, but many articles of a comparatively recent date
had been added. All was now, however, rotting and falling into
decay.

The place appeared to have been deserted suddenly by its last
occupants. Household utensils lay as they were left, rust and dirt
encrusted on them. An open book, limp and mildewed, lay face
downwards on the table, while many others were scattered about both