As soon as the tide refloated their ship they brought it up into the lake. Here they anchored, unloaded some sacks of hide, and built stone-and-turf huts. Later, after deciding to winter at this place, they built houses. The lake and river were full of huge salmon and they thought cattle would be able to survive without fodder. There was no frost and the grass scarcely withered.
When the house-building had been completed Leif divided his men. Each day one group went out to explore the countryside, with orders that they should not become separated and that they return by dusk. At first things went well, but one evening Tyrkir was missing. Leif was very much disturbed because Tyrkir had been one of his father’s companions for a long time.
“Leif spoke harsh words. . . .”
Twelve men set out to find Tyrkir. They had not gone far when he showed up. He was obviously in a good mood, rolling his eyes and laughing and talking in German so that nobody understood what he was saying. “The Greenlanders’ Saga” describes him as being small, dark, and seedy in appearance, with a sloping forehead and an unsteady eye, but good at all kinds of odd jobs.
“Why are you so late, foster-father?” asked Leif. “And why did you leave your comrades?”
Tyrkir continued laughing, grimacing, and talking in German. Finally be spoke in Norse. “I have some news for you,” he said. “I have found vines with grapes.”
“Is that true, foster-father?” Leif asked.
“Of course it’s true,” said Tyrkir, “because where I was born there are plenty of vines and grapes.”
Next morning Leif instructed his men to pick grapes and cut vines and to begin felling trees so that when they returned to Greenland they would have a good cargo. And when they embarked in the spring their ship carried a load of grapes, vines, and timber. Leif named the place Vinland.
All right, where was this lush country?
The sagas give many clues, several quite pointed, others too general to be of much help. That sweet-tasting dew, for instance, has been identified by some investigators as the sweet excreta of certain plant lice and flies—yet this could be found any number of places. Others who have studied the problem say it might have been only the dew which normally collects overnight, and the men had been aboard ship so long that they were eager for a taste of fresh water. Then there’s a third possibility: the incident might be a fabrication which should be disregarded.
As for grapes, about thirty varieties grow wild in the northeastern United States and Nova Scotia. Along the coast at the present time they grow no farther north than Massachusetts, which would seem to establish Vinland’s northern limit. However, in Leif’s day the climate might have been different, which would extend that boundary. In the 1530s, for example, Jacques Cartier saw grapevines on both banks of the Saint Lawrence where none grow today. And botanists who examined pollen found in the ruins of Greenland Viking settlements have concluded that eleventh-century weather was not bad, certainly no worse than it is now, perhaps a little warmer.
The big argument about grapes, though, is not how far north they might have been growing during the Middle Ages but whether Leif’s men actually found any. The quarrel hangs like a sword over the syllable vin or vín. In the original manuscript—long lost—did that syllable, or did it not, have a diacritical mark? Was Leif talking about Vinland or Vínland? Because the minuscule notation makes quite a difference. Without the mark it means meadow, grassy land, pastureland; with the mark it means wine country, grapevine country. In other words, how far north or south the Vikings camped might depend on whether Leif spoke of grass or of grapes. The sagas clearly suggest that Tyrkir was uncommonly exhilarated, and nobody ever has been known to get drunk on crushed grass, which argues that he was loitering amidst the vín, not the vin. But things aren’t that simple. Perhaps Tyrkir stumbled upon wild berries, not grapes, and the Vikings sailed home to Greenland with a boatload of berries.
Now about the salmon, a cold-water fish. Today it swims no farther south than New York, which ought to establish a southern boundary for Vinland, thus eliminating Virginia and North Carolina where some students of the problem have placed it. And a warmer ocean 1,000 years ago would have kept the salmon in still higher latitudes, which would eliminate New York.
On the other hand, because of a remark in the sagas concerning the winter solstice, a German scholar located the settlement between 27° and 31°—in Florida. A Norwegian, interpreting this same remark differently, concluded that Vinland must have been on Chesapeake Bay.
A Yankee partisan proved that Leif wintered at Plymouth. He determined not only the exact route from Greenland but the time of year Leif arrived, even the time of day. His argument covers many pages and could hardly be more persuasive. That is, until you listen to somebody else.
A Harvard professor fixed the site in his own neighborhood, less than a mile from campus.
So the squabble persists, point and counterpoint.
In any event, Leif had not been home very long when one of his brothers, Thorvald, volunteered to inspect Vinland more closely.
“Well, brother,” said Leif to Thorvald, “use my ship, if you like.”
Thorvald picked thirty men and reached the encampment with no trouble. They spent that winter comfortably and the following summer they explored the western coast. They saw no animals or humans, but they did come across a small wooden structure—perhaps the frame of a tepee.
The next summer while exploring the east coast they saw three unusual humps or mounds on the beach, which turned out to be hide-covered boats with three “skraelings” asleep under each boat. “Skraeling” cannot be precisely translated, but it refers to the native inhabitants of Greenland and North America and is contemptuous, meaning barbarian or screamer or wretch. Whether these skraelings were Eskimos or Indians is not known. Some anthropologists believe they were the now extinct Beothuk or Micmac Indians. The hide-covered boats, however, might have been Eskimo umiaks which are larger than kayaks. Whatever they were, Thorvald’s men crept up to these boats and killed eight skraelings. One escaped.
Then, we are told, after returning to the headland from which they had looked down on these boats, the Vikings became drowsy. This seems curious, but the saga does not explain. Next “they were aroused by a voice shouting: ‘Awake, Thorvald! Awake with all your men! Hurry to the ship and leave quickly if you would save your lives!’ Then came a great fleet of skin-boats to attack them.”
During this fight Thorvald was hit by a freak shot: an arrow struck him in the armpit. “I think it will be the death of me,” he said.
He asked to be carried to a place not far away where he had planned to build a house. There he was buried, with a cross at his head and another at his feet, so the place was named Krossanes.
Thorvald’s men remained at Leif’s camp that winter, loading their ship with vines and grapes. In the spring they sailed back to Greenland.
Another of Leif’s brothers, Thorstein, offered to bring home Thorvald’s body. He outfitted the same ship and took along his wife, Gudrid. The voyage was a disaster. They got lost, either because of storms or fog, and ended up not in Vinland but at a small Viking settlement on the upper coast of Greenland. They were obliged to spend the winter there, and Thorstein died of plague.
Shortly after his death, while Gudrid was seated near the bench on which his body was lying, Thorstein sat up and began to speak. Translations vary in detail, but essentially this is what Thorstein said:
“I wish to tell Gudrid her fate, that she may endure my death more easily, for I am comfortable in this place. Gudrid, listen. You are to be married to an Icelander and will live with him a long time. Many descendants will you have—stalwart, fair, sweet, and good. From Green-land you will go to Norway, thence to Iceland where you will make your home. In Iceland you will live many years with your husband, but you shall outlive him. After his death you will