Missionary Experiences

MISSIONARY EXPERIENCES. BY PARLEY P. JENSEN.

One day early last fall, with my companion, Brother Jens P. Pugal, I left Nygaard Bon (Norway), going north. We visited houses and distributed tracts all day, and arrived that evening at Guldvarket (i. e., gold works). In that place Brother Fugal, while tracting the residence of a Professor Ashton, a mining expert, and who also had a wealthy Englishman staying with him, invited him to dine with them. He accepted the invitation on the condition that his companion also should partake of their hospitality. I was at once sent for, and on arriving at the house, after a

few moments pleasant conversation, we sat down to a sumptuous meal of salmon, tenderloin, pastry, etc. Our hostess sat at the table to entertain us, and while we were a little surprised at being treated so royally by such aristocratic people, yet we by no means lost our appetite for food a la English, but we proved our faith by our works. Well, our little social was all too soon ended. It was getting late in the evening, and as we had quite a distance to walk, we were compelled to leave Mr. Ashton's about half-past eight p.m. We left Guldvarket for Tuttleedalen, a place where we had the address of friends. We were told we would be able to walk the distance in about thirty minutes. We proceeded to climb the hill and entered the forest just as the shadows of night were beginning to envelop the country; but we hoped and thought we would be able to arrive at our destination before it became really dark, so we pushed on with all energy. On, on we went, but the path only became more dim and the woods more dense. At length my companion said, "We must be about there," and looking at his watch

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he saw that we had been on the way over an hour; and now we had completely lost the trail. We then separated, each going in a different direction, yet we were unable to find either path or house. After about half an hour's futile effort to discover a clew to our whereabouts, we were forced to realize the fact that we were lost in the forest. The smiling moon and the glimmering stars that usually lead the wanderer on his way, were that night so completely hidden behind dark, threatening clouds which filled the canopy of heaven and promised at any moment to pour out their wrath on us in the — form of a renowned Norse shower that our surroundings were so dark that to see a yard ahead was an impossibility. At first we felt inclined to sit down where we were and await the coming of morning. However, on second thought, we deemed it inadvisable to become inactive, as the ground was wet and the night air quite chilly, and both of us being warm and perspiring from fast walk-

ing, we concluded the exposure would produce bad effects, therefore we continued wandering about among the trees and rocks in search — of a way out now crossing a swamp, leaping from rock to rock; — now stumbling and falling into the slush and mud now slipping and cutting our feet upon the sharp edge of a boulder. Thus we wandered about till nearly midnight, when we concluded that we were doomed to spend the night in the woods, unless some power other than our own came to the rescue. At this point we knelt down and prayed earnestly to our Father in Heaven for divine assistance and guidance. After prayer, I said, "We had better tear down some branches from the trees to sleep on, and make the best of a poor situation." But Brother Jens said, "Wait a minute; I feel like going up in that direction" (pointing). He disappeared while I stood contemplating the unpleasantness of having to sleep in the cold forest, with a storm brewing at that, to say nothing of the little reptiles which might come to plague us. I was aroused from my reverie by the cheerful voice of

Brother Fugal, shouting, "Come here." I immediately followed his footsteps. On meeting he said, "Listen," and after a moment of quiet, sure enough we distinctly heard in the distance the barking of a dog. We were not long in deciding to follow in the

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direction from whence the sound came, because we reasoned that where the dog was there most likely perhaps we would find people. After walking and stumbling for about an hour in the direction of the sound (hearing the barking at regular intervals), we at length came out on the top of a hill, and there before us stood the hamlet all wrapped in darkness, and quiet as a deserted village. We soon scrambled down over the rocks and fences until we came to a neat farm house. We realized the precariousness of prowling around on people's property at so late an hour, but necessity made us brave. Reaching the door, we knocked. A voice said, "Varsagode" (i. e., you please), and we entered, Brother Jens if

explaining our situation. Then a kind-looking lady came from the next room with a light, and made some little expostulation about having nothing good enough for us; but we answered her that we would be thankful for anything. She then gave us refreshments, after which she escorted us to the hayloft, where she had a vacant bed, decked with dressed sheepskin robes. We of course remarked that that was meglt godt. She bade us good night, and being footsore and weary, we at once retired. But oh! what had become of our faithful guide, the dog? We never heard a sound of him after emerging from the forest. Another rare thing: the storm held off until we were located in our haven of rest; but then, yes, as soon as we were fairly inside, the elements broke loose in a terrific storm, which raged fiercely all night and the following day. What the result would have been to us had we remained in the woods can better be imagined than spoken. But we were too tired to give the subject much thought. We just called it "an act of special providence," and bowed to him who rules all things, and humbly thanked him for his kindness and goodness. Then we were soon asleep, and sleep was never sweeter than that night in our snug, little bed amid the aromatic odor of the newly-mown hay.