murderous as you hope, you must blame the Norwegian character, not Oberhausen. Nor me.
The rent which MacAlister and Oberhausen and I paid to the commune of our island was employed for the good of all the inhabitants. Our lease was granted by the commune. It was executed by several of the more important members of the commune. This is to be noted.
From the first there had been talk of nets.
Mr. Thorwaldsen, in whose house we lived, had warned us that we might light upon some of these engines of destruction. I was shocked to hear this, for I did not know, as did Mr. Thorwaldsen, that the first thought of a Norwegian peasant on seeing a bit of water is, "How soon can I put a net through it?" But for ten days we never saw a sign of a net. Then Oberhausen's great adventure took place.
I lay at rest upon the bosom of the lake. Across half a mile of unruffled water I could see Oberhausen at work, his form silhouetted against the water of the sea-stream. This was in the days before we learned how to fish this place—the finnocky days. His rod flashed in the pitiless sun as he flailed manfully away. Where I was no fish moved, for there was no fly on the water. And yet I went on fishing—dry, sunk, even trailed—for there were hungry mouths in
