Thorwald told Leif that he had been too faint-hearted in his
explorations of Wineland. "You were bolder than Biorn, I grant you,"
he said; "but you only nibbled at the rind after all. I promise you I
will dig down deeper into the meat."
"Dig," said Leif, "dig by all means. But look that you don't dig your
grave. I saw no men the length and breadth of the land; and yet it is
unreasonable to think that no men have been engendered to live in such
a fine and fruitful country. If our father were not so old and hard to
move, I tell you I should be for cutting adrift from Greenland and
settling out there. But then I would go in a larger way than you
intend. I would take a wife first of all----"
"So would Thorstan, our brother, if he could get her," said Thorwald.
"But he cannot get her," Leif said, and then Thorwald, "He won't move
from her until he does get her."
Leif said: "He will go if Thore takes her out with you. But never mind
all that. You will need a stock of cattle if you are for settling, and
a strong body of men. It is not the way of our people to live in tents
and eat only of the beasts that we chance to take. We are too fond of
the earth to care to live without what she can give us. And if by
incessant toil you win a sustenance out of this frozen land, consider
what you could do in Wineland, where there is no frost, and but a
sprinkling of snow, and where the soil is four feet deep, or double
that for all I know."
"You are talking of one thing, and I thinking of another," Thorwald
said. "Time enough to settle when I have discovered the country for
you. That's what I mean to do."
Leif helped his brother with a ship and good advice; and Thorwald
sailed west in the spring with a sufficient crew. Thore did not go;
for that winter there had been a great deal of sickness, and old
Thorbeorn took it badly, and died of it. Thore himself had the
sickness, and Gudrid nursed him through it; but he was not fit for a
long voyage. And Thorstan would not go either, though he kept away
from Stockness, and saw nothing of Gudrid. Thorwald would have been
glad of his help, for Thorstan was very strong and a man who could be
depended upon; but he saw the trouble in his eyes and forbore to urge
him. It came to this, then, that Thorwald was in sole command. He was
young and full of spirit; he did not doubt himself the least in the
world: but Leif doubted him, and threw away much sound advice upon him.
They sailed out of the frith one fine afternoon, and were lost to
sight. They had a prosperous voyage throughout, and no trouble in
picking up the Island of Sweet Dew, the river and the lake. There, in
a glade of the forest and in full view of the lake, they saw the booths
still standing, which Lief and his men had set up. They were intact,
the bolts seemingly not drawn, and not much the matter with the goods
within, but what fresh air and sunlight could amend it. They spent the
better part of six weeks in and about those shores, but then, leaving a
garrison at the booths, Thorwald and the rest of the crew went far and
wide over the land, travelling mainly by boat up the great river which
fed the lake on the west. They did not return till late in the autumn.
They reported to their friends that so far as they had been the forest
land extended, with timber in it of incredible size and height. It
increased in density the further they went, and the country all level,
with no mountains to be seen. In the river were many shallows, and
islands too; the shores were white sand and firm to walk upon. They
had met with few animals, and no signs of men at all. Thorwald, who
was unaccustomed to a forest country, said that he should never settle
there, and that he should go further north, where a man might perhaps
see where he was going. But they stayed out the winter where they were.
In the spring they made their preparations to depart. They sailed east
in the first place, but always north of the land, but encountered rough
weather off a great headland which drove them on to the beach and broke
the ship's back. That gave them a great deal of work, and involved a
long stay while they mended her. There was abundance of timber, and of
good quality, and they were well stocked with tools; but there was much
building to be done before they could get at their work, and it took
them the best part of the summer. But they were away about the time of
harvest, and still sailing north, and being east of the mainland, the
country appeared to grow more open, the trees were sparse, and they
could see hills to the far west of them. So presently, when there
opened out to them the mouth of a great frith, Thorwald sailed up it
some distance till he came to a place where there were bluffs standing
up sheer in the water, and beyond a headland a broad bay. Thereabouts,
standing close inshore he berthed his ship, and was able to run out
gangways and walk from ship to land. He himself with a party went into
the country to look about them. It was fine open land, with a good
deal of wood growing on it, but well-watered and with pasture of fine
quality. "This country suits me," Thorwald said. "I shall stay here
and make a homestead in it." As it turned out he spoke more truly than
he thought for.
On their way back to the ship they struck the frith nearer to the mouth
than where the anchorage was. They jumped down the cliffs to the
beach, and in the very act to jump Thorwald saw something move between
two hummocks of sand. He collected his men together and advanced
quietly. There behind the hummocks they saw men. Three hide-boats lay
at the water's edge. There were three men to each.
Thorwald said, "We must rush upon them suddenly. Let each of us make
sure of one man." There were twelve men with Thorwald, counting
himself.
The men, who were short and very dark, with black hair, in which were
feathers, had bows with them; but Thorwald gave them no chance of using
them. At a signal his party sprang with cries from behind the
hummocks, and fell upon them. Three fell at once; the others took to
the water and were slain there, all but one. He, as he went, slid out
a boat, and scrambling in, made off at a great pace, and was soon out
of sight behind the cliffs. Thorwald took the hide-boats and the
weapons, but left the dead men where they lay. Then he went back to
the ship, uneasy, thinking what he had better do.
It was everybody's advice that they should seek an anchorage further
from the shore--and that they did. Setting a watch, they went to bed.
Nothing disturbed them until the grey hour of the morning; but then the
watchman called loudly to Thorwald: "Thorwald, Thorwald, arm yourself,
and come up!" Thorwald leapt to his feet and ran out to look. The
water was very smooth and still, but listening intently, he could hear
countless paddle-strokes; and by and by in the mist the water appeared
to be moving, so many and close together were the boats, and so
shadowy-grey the men in them.
"Out with your war-wall," Thorwald cried, and all the crew, now wide
awake, obeyed him. The war-wall was run up and made fast. Every man
took spear and shield and stood behind it, ready for the worst.
The natives came within easy shooting range and rained showers of
arrows at the ship. They did not venture to get at closer quarters,
but held on until they had shot all their arrows; then made off with
cries. The Icelanders looked at each other, and Thorwald, who was very
pale, said, "Is any man here wounded?" They told him No. Then
Thorwald, smiling rather queerly, said: "There slipped in an arrow
between the rails of the board and my shield and struck me under the
arm. You shall take it out, one of you, but I declare it my
death-wound. I feel the venom working in me; and now I see how wisely
I spoke when I said that my homestead should be out yonder. So it will
be, but a smaller one than I thought to have put up. Now," he said,
lying down upon a skin which they had spread for him, "pull me out this
accursed dart, and listen to what I say. You shall bury me there where
my homestead is to be, and put up a Cross over me. For though I am not
long christened I know that I belong to the true faith. Call that
place Crossness in memory of me, and when you go home tell my people
where I lie, in case any of them come out and are minded to see if I
need anything."
He bore the pulling out of the dart with great cheerfulness, and
composed himself for his end. The poison worked swiftly. He was soon
discoloured, and rambled much in his talk. Towards the end they had to
hold him, and at sunset he died.
Everything was done as he had ordered it. They dug him a grave, rather
than piled a cairn about him as the custom had always been; but sat him
up in it with his weapons, thinking that more honourable. There were
no Christians among them to say any prayer over the grave; but they
made a great Cross and carved runes upon it. Then they went back to
the ship and got the anchor up, being ill-disposed to stay there
another day. The night passed without attack, and by daylight they
rowed out of the frith, and out to sea. They beat their way back to
Eric's booths in Wineland and found them unmolested. There they
remained for the autumn and winter following; and then went home to
tell Eric Red and Lief the fate of young Thorwald.