"We can all join thee in that, Olaf," said Gudrid I with an approving nod and laugh. "Come, girls, fill up your cups and pledge to Vinland."

"Stop!" shouted Biarne in sudden anxiety.

They all paused with the cups half-way to their lips.

"_You_ must not drink, Freydissa," he continued seriously. "Gudrid did call upon the _girls_ to join her: surely ye don't--"

He was cut short by Freydissa throwing her cup of water in his face.

With a burst of laughter Biarne fell backwards, and, partly to avoid the deluge, partly for fun, rolled out of the tent, when he got up and dried his dripping beard.

"No more of that, fair girl, I beseech thee," he said, resuming his place and occupation. "I will not again offend--if thou wilt not again misunderstand!"

Freydissa made no reply to this, silence being her usual method of showing that she condescended to be in good humour--and they were all very merry over their evening meal. From the noise and laughter and songs around them, it was evident that the rest of the company were enjoying their first night on sh.o.r.e to the full, insomuch that Olaf was led, in the height of his glee, to express a wish that they could live in that free-and-easy fashion for ever.

"'Tis of no use wishing it," observed Karlsefin; "if you would insure success you must, according to Biarne, drink it in beer."

"I cry you mercy, skipper," said Biarne; "if you persecute me thus I shall not be able to drink any more to-night. Hand me the jar, Thorward, and let me drink again before I come to that pa.s.s."

"Hark!" exclaimed Gudrid, "there must be something going to happen, for all the men have become suddenly quiet."

They listened intently for a moment or two, when Krake's voice broke the deep silence:--"Come, now, don't think so long about it, as if ye were composing something new. Every one knows, sure, that it's about sweet Scotland you're going to sing."

"Right, Krake, right," replied a rich deep voice, which it required no sight to tell belonged to Hake, the young Scot; "but there are many songs about sweet Scotland, and I am uncertain which to choose."

"Let it be lively," said Krake.

"No, no, no," chorussed some of the men; "let it be slow and sad."

"Well well," laughed the half-Irishman--as he was fond of styling himself--"have it your own way. If ye won't be glad, by all means be sad."

A moment after, Hake's manly tones rose on the still air like the sound of an organ, while he sang one of the ancient airs of his native land, wherein, like the same airs of modern days, were sounded the praises of Scotland's heather hills and brawling burns--her bonny daughters and her stalwart sons.

To those in the large tent who had listened, with breathless attention and heads half averted, it was evident that song, sentiments, and singer were highly appreciated, from the burst of hearty applause at the conclusion, and the eager demand for another ditty. But Hake protested that his ruling motto was "fair play," and that the songs must circle round.

"So let it be," cried Swend.--"Krake, it is your turn next."

"I won't keep ye waiting," said that worthy, "though I might do it, too, if I was to put off time selecting from the songs of old Ireland, for it's endless they are--and in great variety. Sure, I could give ye songs about hills and streams that are superior to Scotland's burns and braes any day--almost up to those of Gamle Norge if they were a bit higher--the hills I mean, not the songs, which are too high already for a man with a low voice--and I could sing ye a lament that would make ye shed tears enough to wash us all off the spit of land here into the sea; but that's not in my way. I'm fond of a lively ditty, so here you are."

With that Krake struck up an air in which it was roundly a.s.serted that Ireland was the finest country in the world (except Iceland, as he stopped in his song to remark); that Irish boys and girls lived in a state of perpetual hilarity and good-will, and that the boys displayed this amiable and pleasant condition chiefly in the way of kissing the girls and cracking each other's crowns.

After that, Swend was called on to sing, which he did of Norway with tremendous enthusiasm and noise but little melody. Then another man sang a love-ditty in a very gruff voice and much out of tune, which, nevertheless, to the man's evident satisfaction, was laughingly applauded. After him a sentimental youth sang, in a sweet tenor voice, an Icelandic air, and then Tyrker was called on to do his part, but flatly refused to sing. He offered to tell a saga instead, however, which he did in such a manner that he made the sides of the Nors.e.m.e.n ache with laughter--though, to say truth, they laughed more at the teller than the tale.

Thus with song and saga they pa.s.sed the first hours of the night, while the camp-fires blazed ruddily on their weather-beaten faces, and the heavenly constellations shone, not only on the surrounding landscape, but appeared to light up another world of cloudland beneath the surface of the sleeping sea.

At last Karlsefin went out to them.

"Now, lads," said he, "it is high time that you laid your heads on your pillows. Men who do not sleep well cannot labour well. To-morrow we have hard work before us in taking possession and settling our new home.

G.o.d has prospered us thus far. We have made a good beginning in Vinland. May it be the foretaste of a happy ending. Away, then, and get you to rest before the night is older, and let your sleep be sound, for I will see to it that the sentinels posted round the camp are vigilant."

The men received this brief speech with a murmur of willing acquiescence, and at once obeyed the order; though Krake observed that he fell in with the custom merely out of respect to the opinions of his comrades, having himself long ago learned to do without sleep in Ireland, where the lads were in the habit of working--or fighting--all day, dancing all night, and going home with the girls in the morning!

Each Norseman then sought a spot upon the gra.s.sy knoll suited to his taste; used his arm, or a hillock, or stone, for a pillow, or anything else that came conveniently to hand, and with his sword or axe beside him, and his shield above him as a coverlet, courted repose, while the bright stars twinkled him to sleep, and the rippling wavelets on the sh.o.r.e discoursed his lullaby.

CHAPTER TEN.

TAKING POSSESSION OF THE NEW HOME, AN EVENT WHICH IS CELEBRATED BY AN EXPLOSION AND A RECONCILIATION.

Every one knows--at least a well-known proverb a.s.sures us--that "early to bed and early to rise" conduces to health, wealth, and wisdom. The Nors.e.m.e.n of old would appear to have been acquainted with the proverb and the cheering prospect it holds out; perhaps they originated it; at all events, that they acted on it, and probably experienced the happy results, is evident from the fact that Karlsefin and his men not only went to bed in good time at night--as related in the last chapter--but were up and doing by daybreak on the following morning.

Having roused the women, relieved the sentinels, struck the tents, and carried everything safely on board the _Snake_, they manned the oars, or large sweeps, with the stoutest of the crew, and prepared to row their vessel up the river into the lake on the sh.o.r.es of which they designed to fix their future home. Previous to this, however, a party of men were told off to remain behind and cut up the whale, slice the lean portions into thin layers, and dry them in the sun for winter use.

"See that you make a good job of it," said Karlsefin to Swend, who was left behind as the leader of the whale-party--because he was fat, as Krake said, and, therefore, admirably suited for such work--"and be careful not to let sand get amongst the meat. Cut out the whalebone too, it will be of use to us; and don't forget that there may be enemies lurking in the woods near you. Keep your windward eye uncovered, and have your weapons always handy."

Swend promised to attend to these orders, and, with twenty men, armed with axes, scythes, and large knives, besides their swords, shields, bows and arrows, stood on the ness and cheered their comrades as they rowed away.

The force of the current was not great, so that the _Snake_ made rapid progress, and in a few hours reached the place where the small stream forked off from the main river. This they named Little River. Above that point the current was more rapid, and it became necessary to send a large party of men on sh.o.r.e with a tracking-rope, by means of which and the oars they at last overcame all obstacles, and finally swept out upon the bosom of the beautiful sheet of water which had afforded such delight to the eyes of the two Scots.

"Here, then, we have got _home_ at last," said Karlsefin, as they rowed over the still water to a spit, or natural landing-place, near Leif's old booths.

"It is very beautiful," said Gudrid, "but I find it difficult to call it home. It seems so strange, though so pleasant."

"You were always difficult to please, Gudrid," said Freydissa; "surely you don't think Greenland--cold, windy, bleak, nasty Greenland--a better home than this?"

"Nay, sister, I made no comparison. I did but say that it seemed strange, and I'm sure that Bertha agrees with me in that--don't you, Bertha?"

"Indeed I do," replied the maiden; "strange the land is, but beautiful exceedingly."

"Of course she'll agree with what _you_ say," cried Freydissa, testily.

"I would that she agreed as readily with me. It is a wonder that she is not weeping, as she is always so ready to do on the smallest provocation, or without any provocation at all."

"I only wept on leaving my father," remonstrated Bertha with a winning smile. "I'm sure you have not seen me shed a tear since then. Besides, I do agree with you in this case, for I think Vinland will be a pleasant home. Don't you too?" she added, turning round to Thora, who had been standing at her side, but Thora had moved away, and her place had been taken by Hake, the Scot.

Bertha blushed on meeting the youth's gaze, and the blush deepened when Hake said in a quiet undertone, that Vinland could not but be a pleasant home to him, and added that Greenland, Iceland, Norway,--anywhere,-- would be equally pleasant, if only _she_ were there!

Poor Bertha was so taken aback by the cool and sudden boldness of this unexpected reply, that she looked hastily round in alarm lest it had been overheard; but Hake, not intending that it should be overheard, had addressed it to her ear, and fortunately at the moment the grating of the keel upon the pebbly sh.o.r.e drew the attention of all to the land.

"Now, then, jump ash.o.r.e, lads," cried Biarne, "and get out the gangway.

Make it broad, for our cattle must not be allowed to risk their limbs by tumbling off."

While Biarne superintended the gangway, Thorward prepared the live stock for their agreeable change, and Karlsefin went up to examine the state of the huts. They were found to be in excellent condition, having been well built originally, and the doors and windows having been secured against the weather by those who had used them last.

"No natives can have been here," observed the leader of the party to those who accompanied him, "because every fastening is secured, apparently, as it was left."

"Nevertheless, Sigrid and I have seen footprints in the sand," remarked the woman Gunhild, coming up at that moment.

"Show them to me," said Karlsefin, with much interest.