Jutland - Time for a Back Up Bitch Free this Ass

Too quickly for Jörgen did they drive over the uneven heath, and
through the deep sand. They stopped at length before the house of
mourning, which was crowded with strangers, some inside, some on the
outside. Vehicle after vehicle stood together; the horses and oxen
were turned out amidst the meagre grass; large sand-hills, like those
at home by the German Ocean, were to be seen behind the farm, and
stretched far away in wide long ranges. How had they come there,
twelve miles inland, and nearly as high and as large as those near the
shore? The wind had lifted them and removed them: they also had their
history.

Psalms were sung, and tears were shed by some of the old people,
otherwise all was very pleasant thought Jörgen. Here was plenty to eat
and drink—the nicest fat eels; and it was necessary to drink
brandy-snaps after eating them, "to keep them down," the eel-man had
said; and his words were acted upon here with all due honour.

Jörgen was in, and Jörgen was out. By the third day he felt himself as
much at home here as he had done in the fisherman's cottage, where he
had lived all his earlier days. Up here on the heath it was different
from down there, but it was very nice. It was covered with
heather-bells and bilberries; they were so large and so sweet; one
could mash them with one's foot, so that the heather should be
dripping with the red juice. Here lay one tumulus, there another;
columns of smoke arose in the calm air; it was the heath on fire, they
said, it shone brightly in the evening.[18]

The fourth day came, and the funeral solemnities were over—the
fisherman and his family were to leave the land sand-hills for the
strand sand-hills.