The Rival Crusoes; Or, The Ship Wreck: Also A Voyage to Norway; and The Fisherman's Cottage.Strickland, Agnes
General
The Rival Crusoes; Or, The Ship Wreck: Also A Voyage to Norway; and The Fisherman's Cottage.
Strickland, Agnes
Children's stories; Fiction
"When its fury has been heightened by a storm, no vessel ought to
venture within a league of it. Whales are frequently absorbed within the
vortex, and howl and bellow hideously during their fruitless endeavours
to free themselves. A bear, in attempting to swim from Lofoden to
Moskoe, was once hurried to this whirlpool, from which he struggled in
vain for deliverance, roaring so loud as to be heard on shore; but,
notwithstanding all his efforts, he was borne down and destroyed. Large
trees, being drawn into the current, are sucked down, and rise again all
shattered to splinters. There are three vortices of the same kind near
the islands of Ferroe."
Before the vessel reached Christiania, the short northern summer had
commenced in all its beauty. Arthur had expected to see an icy, desolate
coast; he could not think that fair sunny days would smile so far
northwards; and when the Aurora entered the bay of Christiana, he could
scarcely believe it was the port to which they were bound.
Before them lay the town of Christiana, situated at the extremity of an
extensive and fertile valley, forming a semicircular bend along the
shore of the beautiful bay. The grounds, laid out in rich enclosures,
gradually sloped to the sea. Behind, before, and around appeared the
inland mountains of Norway, covered with dark forests of pines and fir,
the inexhaustible riches of the North. The most distant summits were
capped with perpetual snows. From the glow of the atmosphere, the warmth
of the weather, the variety of the productions, and the mild beauties of
the adjacent scenery, it was hardly possible to believe that they were
nearly under the sixtieth degree of latitude.[8]
[Footnote 8: Cox's Travels.]
"Is it possible?" said Arthur, as he stood on deck by the side of
Travers; "can this blooming land be one of the coldest and most barren
regions of the North?"
"Ah," said Travers; "but you see it in the midst of its short, lovely
summer; its aspect would be bleak and horrid, were you to visit it
during the nine winter months. Were you to hear the roaring of the winds
among the mountains, the fall of great heaps of snow, and oftentimes of
huge masses of stone and rocks from their heights--sometimes choking up
the course of rivers, and overwhelming the cottages of the peasants--you
would then hardly believe that the return of the sun could produce so
much beauty as you now see before you."
"I have heard," said Arthur, "that, farther to the North, the sun never
sets in the height of summer, nor rises in the depth of winter."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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