“Now am I quite certain of it,” said Biarne, as he stood on the poop, surrounded by all his friends, who gazed eagerly at the shore, to which they had approached so close that the rocks and bushes were distinctly visible; “that is the very same land which I saw before.”
“What, Vinland?” asked Freydissa.
“Nay, not Vinland. Are you so eager to get at the grapes that ye think the first land we meet is Vinland?”
“A truce to your jesting, Biarne; what land is it?”
“It is the land I saw last when leaving this coast in search of Greenland, so that it seems not unnatural to find it first on coming back to it. Leif; on his voyage, went on shore here. He named it Helloland, which, methinks, was a fitting name, for it is, as you see, a naked land of rocks.”
“Now, then,” said Karlsefin, “lower the sail, heave out the anchor, and let two men cast loose the little boat. Some of us will land and see what we shall see; for it must not be said of us, Biarne, as it was unfairly said of you, that we took no interest in these new regions.”
The little boat was got ready. The Scottish brothers, Hake and Heika, were appointed to row. Karlsefin, Biarne, Thorward, Gudrid, Freydissa, and Olaf embarked and proceeded to the shore.
This land, on which the party soon stood, was not of an inviting aspect. It was sterile, naked, and very rocky, as Biarne had described it, and not a blade of grass was to be seen. There was a range of high snow-capped mountains in the interior, and all the way from the coast up to these mountains the land was covered with snow. In truth, a more forbidding spot could not easily have been found, even in Greenland.
“It seems to me,” said Freydissa, “that your new land is but a sorry place—worse than that we have left. I wonder at your landing here. It is plain that men see with flushed eyes when they look upon their own discoveries. Cold comfort is all we shall get in this place. I counsel that we return on board immediately.”
“You are too hasty, sister,” said Gudrid.
“Oh! of course, always too hasty,” retorted Freydissa sharply.
“And somewhat too bitter,” growled Thorward, with a frown.
Thorward was not an ill-natured man, but his wife’s sharp temper tried him a good deal.
“Your interrupting me before you heard all I had to say proves you to be too hasty, sister,” said Gudrid, with a playful laugh. “I was about to add that it seems we have come here rather early in the spring. Who knows but the land may wear a prettier dress when the mantle of winter is gone? Even Greenland looks green and bright in summer.”
“Not in those places where the snow lies all the summer,” objected Olaf.
“That’s right, Olaf;” said Biarne; “stick up for your sweet aunt. She often takes a stick up for you, lad, and deserves your gratitude.—But come, let’s scatter and survey the land, for, be it good or bad, we must know what it is, and carry with us some report such as Karlsefin may weave into his rhymes.”
“This land would be more suitable for your rhymes, Biarne, than for mine,” said Karlsefin, as they started off together, “because it is most dismal.”
After that the whole party scattered. The three leaders ascended the nearest heights in different directions, and Gudrid with Olaf went searching among the rocks and pools to ascertain what sort of creatures were to be found there, while Freydissa sat down and sulked upon a rock. She soon grew tired of sulking, however, and, looking about her, observed the brothers, who had been left in charge of the boat, standing as if engaged in earnest conversation.
She had not before this paid much attention to these brothers, and was somewhat struck with their appearance, for, as we have said before, they were good specimens of men. Hake, the younger of the two, had close-curling auburn hair, and bright blue eyes. His features were not exactly handsome, but the expression of his countenance was so winning that people were irresistibly attracted by it. The elder brother, Heika, was very like him, but not so attractive in his appearance. Both were fully six feet high, and though thin, as has been said, their limbs were beautifully moulded, and they possessed much greater strength than most people gave them credit for. In aspect, thought, and conversation, they were naturally grave, and very earnest; nevertheless, they could be easily roused to mirth.
Going up to them, Freydissa said— “Ye seem to have earnest talk together.”
“We have,” answered Heika. “Our talk is about home.”
“I am told that your home is in the Scottish land,” said Freydissa.
“It is,” answered Hake, with a kindling eye.
“How come you to be so far from home?” asked Freydissa.
“We were taken prisoners two years ago by vikings from Norway, when visiting our father in a village near the Forth fiord.”
“How did that happen? Come, tell me the story; but, first, who is your father?”
“He is an earl of Scotland,” said Heika.
“Ha! and I suppose ye think a Scottish earl is better than a Norse king?”
Heika smiled as he replied, “I have never thought of making a comparison between them.”
“Well—how were you taken?”
“We were, as I have said, on a visit to our father, who dwelt sometimes in a small village on the shores of the Forth, for the sake of bathing in the sea—for he is sickly. One night, while we slept, a Norse long-ship came to land. Those who should have been watching slumbered. The Norsemen surrounded my father’s house without awaking anyone, and, entering by a window which had not been securely fastened, overpowered Hake and me before we knew where we were. We struggled hard, but what could two unarmed men do among fifty? The noise we made, however, roused the village and prevented the vikings from discovering our father’s room, which was on the upper floor. They had to fight their way back to the ship, and lost many men on the road, but they succeeded in carrying us two on board, bound with cords. They took us over the sea to Norway. There we became slaves to King Olaf Tryggvisson, by whom, as you know, we were sent to Leif Ericsson.”
“No doubt ye think,” said Freydissa, “that if you had not been caught sleeping ye would have given the Norsemen some trouble to secure you.”
They both laughed at this.
“We have had some thoughts of that kind,” said Hake brightly, “but truly we did give them some trouble even as it was.”
“I knew it,” cried the dame rather sharply; “the conceit of you men goes beyond all bounds! Ye always boast of what valiant deeds you would have done if something or other had been in your favour.”
“We made no boast,” replied Heika gravely.
“If you did not speak it, ye thought it, I doubt not.—But, tell me, is your land as good a land as Norway?”
“We love it better,” replied Heika.
“But is it better?” asked Freydissa.
“We would rather dwell in it than in Norway,” said Hake.
“We hope not. But we would prefer to be in our own land,” replied the elder brother, sadly, “for there is no place like home.”
At this point Karlsefin and the rest of the party came back to the shore and put an end to the conversation. Returning on board they drew up the anchor, hoisted sail, and again put out to sea.
Chapter Seven.
Songs and Sagas—Vinland at Last!
In days of old, just as in modern times, tars, when at sea, were wont to assemble on the “fo’c’sle,” or forecastle, and spin yarns—as we have seen—when the weather was fine and their work was done.
One sunny afternoon, on the forecastle of Karlsefin’s ship—which, by the way, was called “The Snake,”