Since the departure of the great caravan, there have been no other
visitors. Some of us cannot understand it; others have in a manner of
speaking got a whiff of what is wrong; but all of us still believe there
will be more visitors, because after all we're the only ones that have the
Tore peaks!

But no one appears.

The women of the house do their daily work for the inmates and do not
complain, but they are not happy. Paul still takes things quietly; he
sleeps a great deal in his room behind the kitchen, but once or twice I
have seen him walking away from the house at night, walking in deep
thought toward the woods.

From the neighboring valley comes the rumor that the motor traffic has
started there now. So this is the explanation of the quiet in our valley!
Then one day a Dane came down to us from the fjeld. He had climbed the
Tore peaks from the other side, something that had been thought impossible
till now. He had simply driven in a car to the foot of the mountains and
walked across!

So we no longer had the Tore peaks to ourselves, either.

I wonder whether, after all, Paul is not going to try to sow green-fodder
in the long strip of land down by the river. That, at any rate, had been
his original intention, but then came the great caravan, and he neglected
it. Now, of course, the season is too far advanced for sowing, and there
will be nothing but docks and chickweed. Could not the field be turfed, at