turne, were riding astride upon their horses,
those of higher rank, with finer clothes,
were sitting in easy and richly-carved sidesaddles,
holding in their right hand the
rein, and in their left, a whip of black
leather, prettily variegated with the white
quills of the feathers of the eider-duck,
which they contrive to intermix in the
braids. Seated upon a heap of stones, in
one place, was to be seen a cheerful groupe
of Icelanders with a bowl of skiur or of
butter before them, which they were eating
as a relish to the dry but uncooked heads of
the cod-fish ; and, at a little distance from
them, a party of Danes had laid aside their
favorite pipe, and were regaling themselves
with slices of smoked salmon, placed between
rye-bread and butter, which they
every now and then washed down with the
contents of their rum-bottle. On arriving
at the banks of the river, about six miles
from Reikevig, I remarked a numerous
party of men and women wading in the
water up to their knees or even waists, and
catching with their hands the fish which
swarmed in the deeper ’parts of the stream.
As soon is caught, they threw them on
shore, where another party was employed
in counting them and flinging them into
wooden panniers, in which they were to be
conveyed upon the horses to Reikevig, there
to be salted. Mr. Savigniac, who displayed
considerable dexterity in seizing the salmon
in the river, afforded infinite amusement to
his female assistants, who took great pleasure
in throwing the largest of the fish at
him, and, as often as they could strike him
on the head or face, or on any part where
the blow would be least acceptable, united
in a loud peal of laughter. Far from being
ashamed of this little trick, they would
wade up to him, assure him of his skill
as a fisherman, and, with great familiarity,
ask him to shake hands with them. Before
three o’clock in the afternoon two thousand
two hundred salmon * were caught
in the Lax Elbe, all of which Mr. Phelps
* To catch such a quantity as this would be considered
as extraordinary, or even wonderful, in any
other country. Pennant, speaking of the Scotch fisheries,
says, “ The miraculous draught at Thurso is still
talked of, not less than two thousand five hundred
being taken at one tide within the memory of man.”
Tour in Scotland, vol. i. p. 202.