"Well, they may call him Chevalier, but he has the old Viking way with
him. I said that I had a friend who had long wished to lay his bones in
a strange land, and he answered, 'If your friend sails with me I would
prefer to have him bring his bones home again.' He kept a place for
you."
Three weeks later Thorolf, looking backward as the _Rotge_, (little auk
or sea-king) stood out to sea, saw the familiar outline of Snaehatten
against the sunrise and wondered when he should see it again. Like a
questing raven his mind returned to the summer spent at the saeter, and
recalled that dark saying of the Wind-wife,--
"In the land of Klooskap shall you be Klooskap's guest."
The galley[2] rode the waves with the bold freedom of her kind. Her keel
was carved out of a single great tree. Her seasoned oaken timbers,
overlapping, were riveted together by iron bolts, with the round heads
outside. Where a timber touched a rib, a strip was cut out on each side,
forming a block through which a hole was bored. Another hole was bored
in the rib to match and a rope twisted of the inner bark of the linden
was put through both holes and knotted. In surf or heavy sea, this
construction gave the craft a supple strength. Calking was done with
woolen cloth steeped in pitch. The mast, of a chosen trunk of fir, was
set upright in a log with ends shaped like a fishtail. The long oarlike
rudder was on the board or side of the ship to the right of the stern,
called the starboard or steerboard. The lading was done on the opposite
side, the larboard or ladderboard. There were ten oars to a side, and a
single large triangular sail.
Long and narrow, hardly ten feet above the water-line at her lowest, her
curved prow glancing over the waves like the head of a swimming snake,
she was no more like the tumbling cargo-ships than a shark is like a
porpoise. When they were two days out, Nils said to Thorolf,
"A Viking in such a galley would sail to the end of the world. By the
way, did the Skroelings in Greenland understand that language the
Wind-wife spoke?"
"I was not there long enough to find out. I once asked a man who knows
their talk well, and he said it was no tongue that ever he heard."
The Greenland folk welcomed them heartily. Finding that the white men
had not after all been forgotten by their own people, the natives drew
off and gave them no more trouble. The Northmen spent the winter in
sleep, talk, song, and hunting with native guides. Besides the old man
in white fur, as the polar bear was respectfully called, Arctic foxes,
walrus, whales and seal abounded. Many of the new-comers became skilful
in the making and the use of the skin-covered native boats called
Kayaks. Nils had some skill in carving wood and stone, and could write
in the Runic script of Elfdal. In the long evenings when winds from the
cave of the Great Bear buffeted the low huts, he taught Thorolf and
Anders what he knew, and talked with the Skroelings. But none of them
understood the runes of the Wind-wife. Their speech was quite different.
Spring came with brief, hot sunshine, and the creeping birches budded on
the pebbly shore. Encouraged by the reports from Greenland, new
colonists ventured out, and house-building went on briskly. One day
Thorolf was summoned to Knutson's headquarters.
"Erlandsson," began the Chevalier, "they say that you have information
about Vinland[3] and the Skroelings there, from an old woman who lived
among them. What can you tell me?"
Thorolf told the story of the Wind-wife. Knutson looked interested but
doubtful.
"I have talked with the oldest colonists," he said, "and they know
nothing of any Skroelings but those hereabouts. They say also that
Vinland is hard to come at. Boats venturing south return with tales of
heavy winds, dense fogs and dangerous cliffs and skerries--or do not
return at all. One was caught and crushed in the ice, and the crew were
found on the floe half starved and gnawing bits of hide. In the sagas of
Vinland the Skroelings are spoken of as fierce and treacherous. To hold
such a land would need a strong hand. The old woman may have
forgotten--or the stories may be those of her own people."
Thorolf shook his head. "Nay, my lord. She was not a forgetful
person--and the language is neither Lapp nor Finn."
"She was very old, you say?"
"I think so. I do not know how old."
"Old people sometimes confuse what they have heard with what they have
seen. But I shall remember what you have said."
"If he had known the Wind-wife," said Nils when told of this
conversation, "he would have no doubt."
Knutson wrote to the King, but got no reply for a long time. A ship with
a cargo of trading stores was sent for, and was wrecked on the Faroes.
But in the following spring an expedition to Vinland was really planned.
There was no general desire to take part in it. Many of Knutson's party
now longed for their native land, where the mountains were drawn swords
flashing in the sun, and the malachite and silver waters and flowery
turf, the jeweled scabbards. They dreamed of the lure sounding over the
valleys, of bright-paired maidens dancing the _spring dans_.
Nevertheless in due season the _Rotge_ left the Greenland shore and
pointed her inquiring beak southeast by south. In the _Gudrid_ sailed
Knutson and his immediate following, with the trading cargo and most of
the provisions. By keeping well out to sea at first the commander hoped
to escape the perils of the coast.
This hope was dashed by an Atlantic gale which drove them westward. For
two days and two nights they were tossed between wind and tide. Toward
the end of the second night the sound of the waves indicated land to
starboard. In the growing light they saw a harbor that seemed spacious
enough for all the ships in the world, sheltered by wooded hills. If
this were Vinland, it was greater than saga told or skald sang.
They landed to take in fresh water, mend a leak and see the country, but
found no grapes, no Skroelings nor any sign of Northmen's presence. On
the rocks grew vineberries, or mountain cranberries, and Knutson thought
that perhaps these and not true grapes were the fruit found in Vinland.
He sent a party of a dozen men, Anders and Thorolf leading, to explore
the forest, ascend some hill if possible and return the same day. He
himself remained with the ships and kept Nils by him. He rather expected
that the natives, learning of the strangers' arrival, would be drawn by
curiosity to visit the bay.
The scouting party followed the banks of the little stream that had
given them fresh water, Anders leading, Thorolf just behind him. Wind
stirred softly in the leaves overhead, unseen birds fluttered and
chirped, sunshine sifting through the maple undergrowth turned it to
emerald and gold and jasper. Once there was a discordant screech from
the evergreens, but it was only a brilliant blue jay with crest erect,
scolding at them. A striped squirrel flashed up the trunk of a tree to
his hole. Then sudden as lightning, from the bushes they had just
passed, came a flight of arrows.
Two men were slightly wounded, but most of the arrows were turned by the
light strong body armor of the Norsemen. The foe remained unseen and
unheard. Nothing stirred, though the men scanned the woods about them
with the keen eyes of seamen and hunters.
Thorolf was seized with an inspiration. He went forward a step or two,
lifted his hand in salutation, and called,--
"Klooskap mech p'maosa?"[4] (Is Klooskap yet alive?)
There was a silence stiller than death. The Norsemen faced the ominous
thicket without moving a muscle. Some one within it called out something
which Thorolf did not understand. But no more arrows came. He tried
another sentence.
"Klooskap k-chi skitap, pechedog latogwesnuk." (Klooskap was a great man
in the country far to the northward.)
This time he made out the answer. In a swift aside he explained to his
comrades,--
"'K'putuswin' means 'let us take council.' They want to have a talk."
He managed to convey his assent to the unseen listeners, and every tree,
rock and log sprouted Skroelings. They were quite unlike the natives of
Greenland, though of copper-colored complexion.[5] These men--there were
no women among them,--were tall and sinewy, and wore their coarse black
hair knotted up on the head with a tuft of feathers. They were naked to
the waist, and wore fringed breeches of deerskin, and soft shoes
embroidered in bright colors. Some had necklaces of bears' claws, beads
or shells, but the only weapons seemed to be the bow and arrow and a
stone-headed hatchet or club. They stared at the white man half
curiously and half threateningly.
Then began the queerest conversation that any one present had ever
heard. Thorolf discovered the wild men's language to be so nearly like
that learned from the Wind-wife that he could understand it when spoken
slowly, and in a halting fashion could make them comprehend him. His
companions listened in wonder. Not even Anders had really believed in
that language.
At last Thorolf held out his hand, and the leader of the Skroelings came
forward in a very gingerly manner and took it. Then walking in single
file, toes pointed straight forward, the savages melted into the forest
as frost melts in sunshine.
With a broad grin, the first he had worn for some time, Thorolf
translated.
"He asked why we came here. I told him, to see the country and trade
with his people. He says that white men have come here before, very long
ago. I think they were killed and he did not wish to say so. He says
that the Sagem, the jarl of his people, lives in a castle over there
somewhere. I told him to give the Sagem greeting from our commander, and
invite him to visit the place where our ships are. He says that it will
not be safe for us to go further into the forest until the Skroelings
have heard who we are and what we are doing here."
"That is very good advice," said Anders with a wry face, as he plucked
some moss to stanch the wound in his arm. The arrow-head which had made
it was a shaped piece of flint bound to the shaft with cords of fine
sinew. "We are too few to get into a general fight. Besides, that is not
in our orders."
They accordingly went back to the ships, arriving a little before
sundown. Knutson was greatly interested.
"You have done well," he said. "A boat was hovering about soon after you
left. This may have been a scouting party sent through the forest to cut
you off."
All the next day they waited, but nothing happened. On the morning
after, a large number of boats appeared rounding the headland to the
south. In the largest sat the Sagem, a very old man wrapped in furs. The
boats were made of birchbark laced on a wooden framework with fibrous
roots, like the toy skiff Mother Elle had made for little Peder.
The Skroelings landed, and advanced with great dignity to meet Knutson,
who was equally ceremonious. Nils and Thorolf had all they could do to
interpret the old chief's long speech, although many phrases were
repeated again and again, which made it easier. Knutson made one in
reply, briefer but quite as polite, and brought out beads, little
knives, and scarlet cloth from his trading stores. The red cloth and
beads were received with eagerness, the knives with interest, and after
a young chief had cut himself, with some awe. The Sagem in his turn
presented the stranger with skins of the sable, the silver fox and the
bear. He and a few of the warriors tasted of the food offered them, and
all the white men were asked to a feast in the village the next day.
So friendly were the Skroelings, in fact, that Knutson determined to
return to Greenland and see what could be done toward founding a
settlement here. He would leave part of the men in winter quarters, with
the _Rotge_ as a means of further explorations, or if necessary, of
escape. Her captain, Gustav Sigerson, was a cautious, wise and
experienced seaman. Anders Amundson, as the best hunter of the
expedition, was to stay, with Nils as clerk and Thorolf as interpreter.
Booths were erected, stores landed, and on a brilliant day in late
summer some forty Norsemen and Gothlanders on the shore watched the
_Gudrid_ slowly fading out of sight.
In talking with the natives Nils and Thorolf observed that their world
seemed to be infested with demons--particularly water-fiends. A reason
for this appeared in time. Half a dozen men one day took the stern-boat
and went a-fishing. They came back white-faced, with a story of a giant
squid with arms four times as long as the boat, that had risen out of
the sea and tried to pull them under. Only their skill as rowers had
saved them. Nils remembered the kraken, of ancient legends, and thought
he could see why the Skroelings never ventured out to sea in their frail
canoes. This put an end to plans for exploring along the coast.
The winter was colder than they had expected. This land, so much further
south than Norway, was bitten by frost as Norway never was. There is
something in intense cold which is inhuman. When men are shut up
together in exile by it, all that is bad in them is likely to crop out.
It might have been worse but for the fortunate friendliness of the
Skroelings. When scurvy appeared in the camp, their first acquaintance,
Munumqueh (woodchuck) had his women brew a drink which cured it. He
showed the white men also how to make pemmican, the compressed meat
ration of native hunters, and how to construct and use a birch canoe, a
pair of snowshoes, and a fire-drill. Gustav Sigerson died in the spring,
and Nils was chosen captain. He and Munumqueh became great cronies, and
exchanged names, Nils being thereafter known to his native friends as
the Woodchuck, and bestowing upon Munumqueh the proud name of his
grandfather, Nils the Bear-Slayer.
"It will never do for us to sit quiet here until Knutson returns," said
Nils when at Midsummer nothing had been seen of the ships. "We shall be
at one another's throats or quarreling with the savages." He had been
inquiring about the nature of the country, and had learned that westward
a great river led to five inland seas, so connected that canoes could go
from one to another. Along this chain of waters lived tribes who spoke
somewhat the same language and traded with one another. Southward lived
a warlike people who sometimes attacked the lake tribes. Beyond the last
of the lakes they did not know what the country was like. The waters
inland were not troubled with the water-demon so far as they knew. Nils,
Anders and Thorolf held a council and decided to explore the wilderness
as far as they could go in the _Rotge_. It was nothing more than all
their ancestors had done. Often, in their invasions of England, France
and other unknown regions Vikings had gone up one river and come down
another, and the _Rotge_, for all her iron strength, was no more than a
wooden shell when stripped.[6]
They set forth, escorted by a flotilla of small canoes, on a clear
summer morning, and found their progress surprisingly easy. Fish, game
and berries were plentiful, the villages along the river supplied corn
and beans, and though it was not always easy to drag the _Rotge_ around
the carrying-places pointed out by their native guides, they did not
have to turn back. It was a proud moment when the undefeated crew
launched their "water-snake" as the Skroelings called her, on the
shining waters of a great inland sea.
The journey had been a far longer one than they expected, and to natives
of any other country would have been much more exciting than it was to
the Norsemen.[7] They had seen cliffs a thousand feet high, cataracts,
rapids, a multitude of wooded islands, narrow valleys where floating
misty clouds came and went and the sky looked like a riband. But the
precipice above Naero Fiord rises four thousand perpendicular feet, and
the water which laps its base is thousands of feet in depth. The
Skjaeggedalsfos is loftier than Niagara, and the mist-maidens dance
along the perilous pathways of a hundred Norwegian cliffs. Nils and
Thorolf agreed that the Wind-wife was right when she said that the
country of the Skroelings was like Norway but had no end.
"The trouble is," reflected Nils as he set down the day's happenings on
a birch-bark scroll, "that nobody will believe us when we tell how great
the land is."
At the end of the fifth and largest lake they found people with some
knowledge of the country beyond. It seemed that after crossing the Big
Woods one came to great open plains where a ferocious and cruel race of
warriors hunted animals as large as the moose, with hoofs and short
horns and curly brown fur. This sounded like a cattle country. The lake
tribes evidently stood in great fear of the plains people, but in spite
of their evident alarm the Norsemen determined to go and see for
themselves.[8] Leaving the boat with ten of their company to guard it
they struck off southwestward through a country of forests, lakes and
streams. After fourteen days they stopped to make camp and go a-fishing,
for dried fish would be the most convenient ration for a quick march,
and they did not intend to spend much more time in exploring.
It seemed to Nils and Thorolf that some mark or monument should be left
to show how far they had really come. A small natural column of dark
trap rock was chosen, and while the others fished, or made a seine after
the native fashion, Nils marked out an inscription in Runic letters,
which are suited to rough work. Not far from the place where they found
the stone, and about a day's journey from camp, was a small high island
in a little lake, the kind of place usually chosen by Vikings for a
first camp. The stone, set in the middle of this island, would be easily
seen by any one looking for it, and savages would not see it at all.
When finished it was rafted across to the island and set up, the
inscription covering about half of it on both sides. While Nils and
several others were thus busy, the remainder of the party were trying
the seine. They reached camp after dark to find their booths in ashes,
and Nils with his men murdered a little way off, as they had come up
from the Rune Stone.[9]
[Illustration: "NILS MARKED OUT AN INSCRIPTION IN RUNIC
LETTERS."--_Page_ 30]
With fury and horror the Norsemen looked upon the destruction. It was
all Thorolf and the cooler heads could do to keep the rest from
attacking the first Skroelings they saw. But the mischief had been done,
without doubt, by the unknown warriors of the plains, who had been
perhaps watching their advance. They sadly prepared to return to their
boat. But before they went, Thorolf paddled out to the island on two
logs, while the others kept guard, and added some lines to the
inscription on the stone.
They never saw their Vinland again. Knutson, finding the King fighting
hard against the Danes, gave no further thought to the wilderness.
Thorolf and a handful of his men finally reached Bergen; Anders
stayed in Greenland. More than five centuries afterward, a Scandinavian
farmer, grubbing for stumps in a Minnesota marsh, found overgrown by the
roots of a tulip tree a stone with an inscription in Runic letters, took
it to learned men and had it translated.
"8 Goths and 22 Norsemen upon journey of discovery from Vinland
westward. We had camp by two rocks one day's journey from this stone. We
were out fishing one day. When we returned home we found ten men red
with blood and dead. AVM save us from evil. have ten men
by the sea to look after our ship 14 days journey from this island. Year
1362."