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CHAPTER IV.
THE JOURNEY – A LITTLE ADVENTURE.
ON a bright sunny day in October, Ivar began his wanderings,
and towards noon had arrived at the spot where the heights of
Quistrum slope down gradually into the bewitching valley, which,
divided by a river, offers to the eye a rich, varied, and gay
picture of one of the most magnificent works of nature. Ivar
descended, and at each step his bosom swelled with glowing
feelings, which he could scarcely describe himself. It was the
sight of the magnificent works of the Creator, which had such an
effect upon the yet unpolished mind of the boy. This could be
perceived by the eagerness with which his drinking eye rested
upon every object.
Arriving at the bridge which spanned the river, he rested
a moment, leaning over the railing so that he might better
watch the tall birchen trees, which were mirrored on the surface
of the quiet water near the shore, while in the centre of the
stream the water rushed with foaming violence; and where he
upraised his eyes, he suffered them to glide along the shadowy
mountain tops, which, like protecting bulwarks, were towering
beside the meandering road, which in itsturn, added gaiety fo the
picture, by the continual walking and driving of men and horses.
To the left of the side by which Ivar came, the excellent and
cleanly tavern of Quistrum stood, and still stands, the often much
longed-for place of repose for the weary traveller. To that place
Ivar looked with wistful eye, after he had gazed sufficiently at
the beautiful scenery with which he was surrounded, which,
the more he gazed upon it, seemed to gain new beauties.
"This must be a comfortable place to live," thought Ivar; and
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