They landed on the mainland on hard white sand, but beyond that there
was turf, with patches of tall waving grass, then a belt of timber, and
beyond them, as they soon made out, an infinite rolling country of
woods and clothed hills, with lakes here and there. Gudrid was
enchanted: the nimble and sweet air, trees taller than she had ever
dreamed of, space, emptiness, silence: she stood with a finger to her
lip, looking up and all about, and sometimes at her companions to see
if they were not under the same spell as she. But the men were too
busy choosing a good place for the camp, and Freydis was with them.
Karlsefne had no mind to be surprised by savages, so sent out men to
cut wood. He intended to have a stockade round his camp in which at
least the women could be defended. There were but five of them, it is
true, but they were all married, and therefore precious. The men who
were not married always hoped that they might be. Who could say what
might be the lot of any adventurer? Let a married man die by all
means--but not a wife. Tents were put up, a double stockade fixed
round them; hammocks were slung. Very soon they had a fire going, and
a pot over it. Gudrid, Freydis and the rest of the women saw to that.
Karlsefne arranged for the watch.
The ships were left well manned, and a company from the landing-party
put into each boat, and each boat at a sufficient distance from its
companion. These crews were to be relieved by watches. Sentries also
were posted about the stockade. They had found no signs of
inhabitancy; but Karlsefne was very careful.
They had their meal in the open under a clear sky. The stars came
out--larger, wetter stars, Gudrid said, than they had at home. Far off
in the forest they heard beasts bellowing, and supposed them wild
cattle. The bull from Karlsefne's ship thundered his answer to the
challenge. They heard wolves at dusk, a chorus of them, and the
barking of wild dogs. No sound of men came near them, nor were they
disturbed in the night. In the morning Karlsefne sent a boat over to
fetch the Scots.
They came, and fixed Karlsefne with intent blue eyes while he told them
what they had to do. He showed them the sun, and with a sweep of his
arm drew his course into the south. He made them understand that they
were to run due south for three days, and then work back to the camp
with whatever they could carry out of the country. They followed every
sign he made, they looked at each other and spoke together, fierce,
curt speeches. It was certain that they knew what they had to do, for
without hesitation they began to do it at once. They looked at each
other, then set off at a trot towards the creek below the stockade.
Arrived there, they stripped off their single garments, folded them and
put them on their heads; they swam the creek, which was a good
half-mile broad, clothed themselves on the further shore, and then
began to run towards the south. They ran like deer, incredibly fast,
with high and short bounds, as if exulting in their legs, and very soon
they were out of sight.
They waited for them three full days which were spent by the men in
hunting and fishing. Game of all kinds was plenty. Karlsefne had a
pony out and put Gudrid upon it. He took her a long way into the
forest and made her happy. She said to him: "You are kinder to me than
I deserve, my friend." His answer was: "It is not hard to be kind to
you, for you answer to the touch like an instrument of music. I win
melody from you that way which enchants me." She said: "Believe me to
be grateful. Believe that I give you in return all I have." "My dear
love," said Karlsefne, "I know that. You have given me of your life.
I never forget it." And then it was her turn to say: "It is not hard
to give you that." So they were a happy couple.
Freydis too was expecting a child, but took it hardly, as she did
everything else.
At sunset on the third day from starting the Scots came back. Their
faces and arms were glistening with sweat, but they breathed easily and
were not at all distressed. One of them carried a fine bunch of
grapes, the other some ears of corn. It was wheat, but redder than
what they had in any country which Karlsefne or his friends knew about.
They collected from the Scot that it was wild wheat, and that the
country where it grew was fruitful and good.
There was a debate about this expedition, the first of many. Karlsefne
was sure that the scouts had found Wineland where Leif had once been;
Thorhall the Huntsman thought not. Karlsefne was for going up the
creek as far as a ship could go, and there to land their stock and
spend the winter. Biorn, who was afraid of attack by natives, desired
to keep to the open sea. It was compromised finally. Biorn's ship
would remain in her present anchorage, but Thorhall would go up with
Karlsefne. Thorhall was a man ill to deal with in any event. Neither
company wanted him, but Karlsefne's company wanted him least--therefore
he chose for that. Most of the stock and all the women but one were of
that ship. Gudrid's child should be born about Christmas time. Her
husband was keen to have a good harbourage for her, and all settled
down before the time came.
So for a while the two ships parted company, and Karlsefne, having all
his party safe aboard, hauled up his anchor, spread his canvas, and
sailed into the creek on a flowing tide.