The fishermen were in no particular hurry: the track to Soberud was perfectly known; even if the droves of cows and the flocks of sheep that had come up it the day before had not already marked it very sufficiently. The way was not long either, for it was but a day’s journey to the herds; the breaking up of the bivouac was very picturesque; Lota[160] was very pretty, and Birger found her very entertaining. It is no wonder that they lingered.

However, the shadows of the trees began to shorten. Party after party came up with their merry “farvels;” the songs and the laughter, and the tinkling of the bells, sounded fainter and fainter from under the arches of the forest; and, last of all, the fishermen, reluctantly shouldering their knapsacks, took their journey down the glade; with the exception of Torkel, who, having something to adjust about his straps, was not exactly ready, and in fact was not seen for a couple of hours afterwards. He did not join them, indeed, till the party had made their first halt near the banks of a mountain lake.

The halt was called somewhat sooner than usual, for the Captain, who, with his gun in his hand and old Grog at his heels, was a little in advance, and had first caught sight of the lake, had caught sight also of an object floating quietly along in the middle of it, which his practised eye at once assured him was that very rare and beautiful bird, the northern diver.

He threw himself flat on the ground, an action in which he was implicitly imitated by the rest of the party, who, though they had not seen the bird, were quite aware that there was some good reason for the caution.

In truth, there are few birds more difficult to kill than the northern diver; to the greatest watchfulness he unites the most wonderful quickness of eye and motion, and, large as he is, he is fully able to duck the flash, as it is called,—that is to say, to dive between the time of seeing the flash and feeling the shot.

They retired a hundred yards or so and smoked the pipe of council, thus giving Torkel the opportunity of coming up with them.

Torkel was well acquainted with the ground, as was natural, not only because the lake was celebrated for ducks and the country round it for tjäder, but also because it happened to lie on the mountain track between his own home and Torgenson’s farm, a road which business (he did not state of what nature) required him to travel very often.

His plan was founded on a well-known characteristic in the nature of diving birds: during their dive they cannot breathe, and therefore on rising to the surface for a moment or so, they cannot make any immediate effort either to dive or to fly. He proposed, therefore, that the Captain should conceal himself among the understuff, and that the rest, taking different positions about the lake, which was not large, should break twigs and slightly alarm the bird, who would naturally edge away toward the point occupied by the Captain, and the object being a valuable prize, an hour or so was not grudged, as there was plenty of time to spare. The party having first reconnoitred their ground, marked the position to be occupied by the Captain on the lee side of the lake, and ascertained that the bird was still resting on the water, separated, taking a wide circuit, lest they should alarm it prematurely....