The beginning of the end . . . that was perhaps the morning when the sheriff from Ringfjorden arrived. He had been hired just a couple of years ago, so neither Magnus nor I knew him, a young guy with a Stavanger dialect. He had with him three men and a megaphone, through which he stammered his prepared statement.

He asked us to leave, was heartfelt, earnest, speaking without anger. He made reference to the penal code, which he claimed we were all violating, and said we were at risk of being fined or even being put in jail.

“You are hereby ordered to evacuate the area immediately so the work can continue.”

I squeezed Magnus’s hand.

“Forget it,” I said softly to him and to myself.

Because we stayed, of course we stayed—we were going to remain here until they had to carry us away.

But the sheriff continued: “You have communicated what you wished to communicate, you have achieved what you wanted to achieve.”

“What language,” I said.

“I thought you liked it when people expressed themselves correctly,” Magnus said.

Daddy stepped forward, smiling at the sheriff.

“We understand that you’re here because you have no choice,” he said. “But you only represent Ringfjorden. . . . I don’t see the sheriff from Eidesdalen up here.”

“I don’t see many people from Eidesdalen either,” the sheriff said.

“They have farms to run,” Daddy said. “And we’re not just here for them. We’re here for the environment, for the water ouzel, for the freshwater pearl mussels.”

The sheriff stood there, hesitating, the three policemen vigilant behind him. Nobody seemed to know what to do with their hands. There were five hundred of us, four of them.

“I believe I have said what I had to say,” the sheriff said, taking a step back.

“And we have heard you, but we are not going to obey,” Daddy replied.

“I can only hope that this finds a peaceful resolution,” the sheriff said.

“We support nonviolent protest,” Daddy said.

“If you mean that, you should heed the warning and take down the camp.”

There was something helpless about him, now that he no longer had a piece of paper to read from.

“Poor guy,” Magnus murmured.

“Nobody’s forcing him,” I said.

“It’s his job,” Magnus said.

“All right, then,” the sheriff said loudly. “See you soon.”

“You know where to find us,” Daddy said.

The sheriff nodded to the three officers and they retreated.

We cheered, all of us, when the car started and they drove away.

“1–0 for us,” Daddy said.

Magnus didn’t say anything, just walked to the tent. I hurried after him. It had started drizzling.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

He shrugged.

I went to get the camping stove and took it outside, suddenly noticing how cold I was, my hands shaking when I went to pour denatured alcohol into the burner. The bottle was already half-empty—we would have to get more tomorrow.