Authors: Jules Verne
"You, little sister. You need diversion, and I am going to take you
with me."
"Oh, thank you, Joel, thank you!"
The brother and sister left the inn at sunrise the next morning. The
fifteen mile walk from Dal to the celebrated falls of the Rjukan,
and back again, was a mere trifle for Joel, but it was necessary to
economize Hulda's strength, so Joel hired foreman Lengling's kariol.
This, like all kariols, had but one seat, but the worthy man was so
large that he had been obliged to have his kariol built to order, and
this being the case the vehicle was large enough to enable Hulda
and Joel to sit side by side quite comfortably; and if the expected
tourist was waiting for them at Rjukanfos as they anticipated, he
could take Joel's place and the latter could either return afoot or
mounted upon the step behind the kariol.
The road from Dal to the falls is very rough but indescribably
charming. It is really rather a footpath than a road. The bridges
across the countless streams that dance merrily along to the Maan are
all constructed of unhewn logs, but the Norwegian horse traverses them
with a sure step, and though the kariol has no springs, its long and
slightly elastic shafts soften the jolting at least to some extent.
The day was charming, and Hulda and Joel drove along at a brisk pace
through the flowery fields, bathed on the left by the clear waters of
the Maan. Clumps of birches here and there shaded the sunny road, and
the dew still glittered on the blades of grass. To the right of the
torrent towered the snow-clad summit of the Gousta, which rises to an
altitude of six thousand feet.
For nearly an hour, the vehicle moved on rapidly, the ascent being
comparatively slight; but soon the valley became narrower, the gay
rivulets were transformed into foaming torrents, and though the
road wound in and out it could not avoid all the inequalities of the
ground. Beyond came really dangerous passes, through which Joel guided
the vehicle with no little skill; besides, with him Hulda feared
nothing. When the road was very rough she clung to his arm, and the
freshness of the morning air brought a glow to the pretty face which
had been unusually pale for some time.
But it was necessary for them to ascend to still greater heights,
for the valley here contracted into merely a narrow channel for the
passage of the river, a channel inclosed on either side by massive
walls of rock. Over the neighboring fields were scattered a few
dilapidated farm-houses, the remains of
soeters
, which were now
abandoned, and a few shepherd's huts almost hidden from view by clumps
of birches and oaks. Soon it became impossible for them to see the
river, though they could distinctly hear it dashing along in its rocky
channel, and the country assumed an indescribably wild and imposing
aspect.
A drive of two hours brought them to a rough saw-mill perched upon
the edge of a water-fall at least fifteen hundred feet in height.
Water-falls of this height are by no means rare in the Vesfjorddal,
but the volume of water is usually small. This is not the case with
the falls of the Rjukanfos however.
On reaching the saw-mill, Joel and Hulda both alighted.
"A half hour's walk will not be too much for you, will it, little
sister?" asked Joel.
"No, brother; I am not tired, and a little exercise will do me good."
"It will be a good deal instead of a little, for you will have some
pretty hard climbing to do."
"I can cling to your arm, Joel."
It was evident that the kariol must be abandoned at this point, for
it would be impossible for it to make its way through the rough paths,
the narrow passes, and over the big, fantastically shaped rocks that
heralded the close proximity of the great falls.
Already, they could see in the distance a thick mist, the spray from
the seething waters of Rjukan.
Hulda and Joel took a shady path which is well known to guides, and
which leads to the end of the valley. A few moments afterward they
found themselves upon a moss-covered rock almost in front of the fall.
In fact there was no chance of getting any nearer to it on that side.
The brother and sister would have had considerable difficulty in
making themselves heard if they had wished to speak; but their
thoughts were those that could be exchanged without the agency of the
lips.
The volume of the Rjukan fall is enormous, its height very
considerable, and its roar deafening. The earth makes an abrupt
descent of nine hundred feet to the bed of the Maan midway between
Lake Mjos and Lake Tinn, nine hundred feet, that is to say six times
the height of Niagara, though the width of this last water-fall from
the American to the Canadian shore is three miles.
The Rjukan is so grand and unique in its aspect that any description
falls far short of the reality, and even a painting can not do justice
to it. There are certain wonders of nature that must be seen if
one would form any adequate conception of their beauty; and this
water-fall, which is one of the most widely celebrated in Europe,
belongs to this category.
These were the very thoughts that were passing through the mind of a
tourist who was at that very moment sitting perched upon a rock on the
right bank of the Maan, from which spot he could command a nearer and
more extended view of the fall.
Neither Joel nor his sister had yet noticed him, though he was plainly
visible from the rock on which they were seated.
In a few minutes the traveler rose and very imprudently ventured out
upon the rocky slope that is rounded like a dome on the side next the
Maan. What the adventurous tourist wished to see was evidently the two
caverns under the fall, the one to the left, which is ever filled to
the top with a mass of seething foam, and the one to the right, which
is always enshrouded in a heavy mist. Possibly he was even trying to
ascertain if there were not a third cavern midway down the fall to
account for the fact that the Rjukan at intervals projects straight
outward into space a mass of water and spray, making it appear as
if the waters had suddenly been scattered in a fine spray over the
surrounding fields by some terrific explosion in the rear of the fall.
And now the daring tourist was slowly but persistently making his
way over the rough and slippery ledge of rock, destitute alike of
shrubbery or grass, know as the Passe de Marie, or the Maristien.
It is more than probable, however, that he was ignorant of the legend
that has made this pass so widely know. One day Eystein endeavored
to reach his betrothed, the beautiful Marie of Vesfjorddal, by this
dangerous path. His sweetheart was holding out her arms to him from
the other side of the gorge, when suddenly he lost his footing, fell,
slipped further and further down the ledge of rock which is as smooth
as glass, and disappeared forever in the seething rapids of the Maan.
Was this rash traveler about to meet a similar fate?
It seemed only too probable; and in fact he soon perceived the danger
of his position, though not until it was too late. Suddenly his foot
slipped, he uttered a cry, and after rolling nearly twenty feet, he
finally succeeded in securing a hold upon a projecting rock on the
very edge of the abyss.
Joel and Hulda, though they had not yet caught sight of him, heard his
cry.
"What is that?" exclaimed Joel, springing to his feet.
"A cry!" replied Hulda.
"Yes, a cry of distress."
"From what direction did it come?"
"Let us listen."
Both looked first to the right, and then to the left of the fall, but
they saw nothing, though they had certainly heard the words "Help!
help!" uttered during one of the intervals between each rebound of the
Rjukan.
The cry was repeated.
"Joel, some one who is in danger is calling for help," cried Hulda.
"We must go to his aid."
"Yes, sister; and he can not be far off. But in what direction? Where
is he? I see no one."
Hulda hastily climbed a little knoll behind the mossy rock upon which
she had been sitting.
"Joel!" she cried, suddenly.
"Do you see him?"
"There, there!"
As she spoke she pointed to the imprudent man whose body seemed to
be almost overhanging the abyss. If his foothold upon a tiny ledge of
rock failed him, or he was seized with dizziness, he was lost.
"We must save him!" said Hulda.
"Yes," replied Joel, "if we can keep our wits about us we shall
perhaps be able to reach him."
Joel gave a loud shout to attract the attention of the traveler,
who immediately turned his head toward the spot from which the sound
proceeded; then the worthy fellow devoted a few moments to deciding
how he could best rescue the stranger from his dangerous position.
"You are not afraid, are you, Hulda?" he asked.
"No, brother."
"You know the Maristien well, do you not?"
"I have crossed it several times."
"Then walk along the brow of the cliff, gradually getting as near the
traveler as you possibly can; then allow yourself to slide down
gently toward him, and take him by the hand, so as to prevent him
from falling any further; but do not let him try to lift himself up,
because if he should be seized with vertigo he would certainly drag
you down with him, and you would both be lost."
"And you, Joel?"
"While you are traversing the brow of the cliff I will creep along the
edge of it on the river-side. I shall reach him about as soon as you
do, and if you should slip I shall perhaps be able to prevent you both
from falling."
Then, taking advantage of another interval in the roaring of the
torrent, Joel shouted in stentorian tones:
"Don't move, sir. Wait; we will try to get to you!"
Hulda had already disappeared behind the trees that crowned the ledge,
in order to ascend the Maristien from the other side of the declivity,
and Joel soon caught a glimpse of the fast-receding form of the brave
girl at the turn in the path where the last trees grew.
He, in turn, at the peril of his life, had begun to creep slowly
along the shelving edge of the ledge that surrounds the Rjukan. What
wonderful coolness, what steadiness of foot and of hand were required
to thus advance in safety along the edge of an abyss whose borders
were drenched with the spray of the cataract!
In a parallel direction, but at least one hundred feet above his head,
Hulda was advancing obliquely in order to reach the traveler more
easily; but the position of the latter was such that she could not see
his face, that being turned toward the cataract.
Joel, on reaching a spot directly below the unfortunate man paused,
and after planting his foot firmly in a small crevice in the rock,
called out:
"Hallo, sir!"
The traveler turned his head.
"Don't move, sir; don't move an inch, but hold fast!"
"I'll do that, my friend, never fear," replied the stranger in a tone
that reassured Joel. "If I hadn't a good grip, I should have gone to
the bottom of the Rjukan a quarter of an hour ago."
"My sister is also coming to help you," continued Joel. "She will take
hold of your hand, but don't attempt to get upon your feet until I
reach you. Don't even move."
"No more than a rock," replied the traveler.
Hulda had already begun to descend the ledge, carefully selecting
the less slippery parts of the slope with the clear head of a true
daughter of the Telemark.
And she, too, now called out as Joel had done:
"Holdfast, sir."
"Yes; I am holding fast, and I assure you that I shall continue to do
so as long as I can."
"And above all don't be afraid!" added Hulda.
"I am not afraid."
"We'll save you yet!" cried Joel.
"I hope so, indeed; for by Saint Olaf I shall never succeed in getting
out of this scrape myself."
It was evident that the tourist had lost none of his presence of mind;
but his fall had probably disabled him, and all he could do now was to
keep himself upon the narrow shelf of rock that separated him from the
abyss.
Meanwhile Hulda continued her descent, and in a few minutes reached
the traveler; then, bracing her foot against a projecting point in the
rock, she caught hold of his hand.
The traveler involuntarily attempted to raise himself a little.
"Don't move, sir, don't move," cried Hulda. "You will be sure to drag
me down with you, for I am not strong enough to keep you from falling!
You must wait until my brother reaches us. When he gets between us and
the fall you can then try to get up."
"That is more easily said than done I fear."
"Are you so much hurt, sir? I hope you have broken no bones."
"No; but one leg is badly cut and scratched."
Joel was about twenty yards from them, the rounded shape of the brow
of the cliff having prevented him from joining them at once. He was
now obliged to climb this rounded surface. This was, of course, the
most difficult and also the most dangerous part of his task.
"Don't make the slightest movement, Hulda!" he cried. "If you should
both slip while I am not in a position to break your fall you would
both be killed."
"You need not fear that, Joel!" replied Hulda. "Think only of
yourself, and may God help you!"
Joel began to crawl slowly up the rock, dragging himself along on his
belly like a veritable reptile. Two or three times he narrowly
escaped sliding down into the abyss below, but finally he succeeded in
reaching the traveler's side.
The latter proved to be an elderly but still vigorous-looking
man, with a handsome face, animated with a very genial and kindly
expression.
"You have been guilty of a very imprudent act, sir," remarked Joel as
soon as he recovered his breath.
"Imprudent!" repeated the traveler. "Yes, and as absurd as it was
imprudent."