RELATING HOW ONE WAS FOUND ON THE CAPE OF THE CROSSES
A means to while away a long evening,--that was how the pair looked upon
the trip as they rowed away from the ship's stem while the crew chatted
over their ale horns in the torchlight of the stern. Dreamily enjoying
the boat's motion and the rhythm of their oars, they swung through the
dusk in contented silence; and only once did their thoughts reach the
point of speech.
"He is knowing in all kinds of weird matters, your countryman the
Huntsman," Alrek said, reminiscently. "Do you remember the time that he
was lost in the unsettled places south of here, and, after looking for
him far and wide, we found him lying flat upon a rock, mumbling at the
sky? He said he was making stanzas to Thor, and that it was an answer
when a whale came ashore the next day----"
"If that is the cheer which Thor has to offer, may I never eat at his
house!" Gard grunted. "So starved was I that I ate a piece the size of
my head, and--excepting the time of my first storm at sea--it has never
happened to me before to be so sick! If Thor gives the Huntsman no
better help where he is now, it is likely to go hard with him. It is
said that the south country is more full of Skraellings than a goat of
fleas. He was a headstrong fool to go there with no more than three men
and one small boat."
Alrek lifted his shoulders indifferently. "If he never comes back, the
sea will be no salter for my tears," he answered; and relapsed into
silence which was not broken until their nearness to land obliged him to
ask a question about the steering.
If there was a moon, it had stayed sulking somewhere behind something,
leaving the world in a dusk which was equally far from light and from
darkness. Through the gloom they had been able to steal off with the
boat in chuckling security; now its glimmer was still sufficient to
guide them to a landing-place upon the pebble-strewn sand, which ran
like a shelf around the base of the seaward hill. Beaching their boat
they clambered up the slope, tripping more than once over the fist-big
stones which studded it, before they entered breathless and laughing
into the grove that crowned the crest.
"Who cares about seeing, so long as he can feel earth under him!" Gard
cried. And all at once he had dropped upon the leaf-covered ground and
was rolling over and over like a horse just freed from a tight girth,
while Alrek stretched his cramped muscles in a somersault.
Something in the fragrance of the damp leaf-mold seemed to intoxicate
them. Presently, both were whirling on their hands; and from that they
went to jumping, and from jumping to wrestling. The shadows had grown a
finger's length before they sank down to get their breath.
As the grove was nowhere very thick and the sea gale had winnowed the
leaves, they had not looked about them long before they made out the
objects which gave the Cape its name,--the two rude crosses of dead
bleached wood rising in the center of an open space by the sea. Around
it, fanlike pine-boughs swayed heavily, and that was all there was of
motion; and the only sound that broke its stillness was the splash of
waves on the sand below. Between the Crosses, a low mound rounded black
against the gray water. Their hearts gave a little throb as they
distinguished it--Thorwald's grave! Amid a chattering throng out in the
sunlight, those words had not conveyed much; but here--here they took on
meaning. Rising silently, the lads groped their way between the pines
until they stood beside it.
Into Gard's voice there came a note of awe. "Thorwald said this cape
looked to be a fine place to live in; I wonder how he likes it to be
dead here? Strangely still must it seem to him after the battle-din of
his life! And strange feelings must have been in his men's minds when
they sailed away and left him here, the only white man on this side of
the ocean."
"He must have found it lonesome to lie here by himself for four
winters," Alrek said very gently. "Surely, if he hears our voices, his
heart must welcome the sound. I tell you, Gard, I think I should not be
sorry if we found him sitting on his grave when we came back at
midnight. If we should tell him that we are his comrades' sons and
relate to him all the news, it may well be that he----"
Gard's hand fell on his arm. "Hush!" he entreated. "I do not care what
any one says on shipboard, but here--! Suppose he should be listening
and take you at your word! Brand says that sooner than go into a witch's
den as Leif's Englishman did, he would allow his arm to be hewn
off,--and a witch's temper is more to be depended upon than the temper
of a dead man. I am not eager to grasp his bony hand, if you are. Let us
go down to the beach--But first, I want to find that knife I dropped.
Will you feel around that bush-clump where I came down at the last leap,
while I look over the slope where I stumbled?"
"Certainly," Alrek consented; and picked his way over the uneven ground
to the spot where a clump of sumacs fringed the edge of the hill-crown
as it sloped down to the beach. Just before he stooped to feel for the
knife, however, he paused to look around.
Seaward, on his left, shone the far-away torches of the ship, a streak
of brightness on the gray. Below him stretched the beach, its farther
end lost in the looming shadow of a tree-crowned hill--he blinked and
leaned forward and blinked again. Out of that shadow, a light had seemed
to open on him like an eye! It did not come from the ship; he glanced
over his shoulder to reassure himself. It came from the hill across the
beach, a dim unwinking eye which up to this time some obstacle had
hidden.
For an instant he thought of ghost-fires, and cold trickled down his
spine; then came a recollection that smote every nerve like a cry,--the
Skraellings! Some had been trapped and had not yet escaped, and it was
going to fall to him to get sight of them! To succeed where all the rest
had failed! To be the one to give Karlsefne the information he wanted!
What wonder that all recollection of the knife--even of Gard--was wiped
off his brain like breath-mist off a shield; that he was obliged to
press his nails deep into his flesh to get a grip on his excitement!
"I shall wreck the chance if I go about it hotly," he admonished
himself. "It was Karlsefne's strong command that we do nothing to offend
them. I must steer it so that I see them without their seeing me,--and
it is unadvisable to be too slow in acting, either, or they will have
made their escape!" He put his body in motion even while his mind was
debating, but it did not render him less cautious. He did not let a
finger of him stray beyond the shadow of the pines, nor did he venture
upon the beach until he saw his way clear before him.
The only objects that offered shelter were the low hummocks, crested
with tufts of wiry grass, that stretched in a broken chain between the
heights. From link to link of this he crawled, unobtrusive as a serpent;
and when the links were wanting and gaps of glimmering sand lay before
him, he ran crouching with the light swiftness of a fox, holding his
breath in expectation of arrows hissing about his ears. None came,
however, and at last the shadow of the second knoll and its spreading
tree-crown fell over him like a canopy. There he paused to listen.
Once, an owl wailed tremulously from a distant tree; and once, it seemed
to him that he heard brush crackle as under a stealthy tread; then all
was silence and the swish of breaking waves. Laying hold of a gnarled
root that reached down like a writhen arm, he drew himself noiselessly
up the slope. Where it flattened to the crest, a clump of sassafras
shoots made a fragrant screen. When he had listened and found the quiet
still unbroken, he ventured to peer between the sprouts.
So long did he remain there without moving that the insects he had
startled began walking over him in restored confidence. The little nook
was empty. Except the patch of embers and a litter of clam shells, there
was no sign to prove that living things had ever been there. As a final
test, he hung his helmet upon his sword and showed it cautiously above
the bushes, and the decoy drew no arrows from the thicket beyond the
fire; the spot appeared to be genuinely deserted.
It is not too much to say that his disappointment brought him near to
tears. "They must have run away as soon as darkness fell," he muttered.
And pushing into the open, he sent the shells flying before a savage
kick. "What Troll's luck!"
As the words left his lips, the flying shells uncovered a peculiar
bowl-shaped basket woven of reeds. He stooped to it curiously; then,
even as his fingers closed on the rim, he took another step forward,
staring at the bushes that hedged the further side of the open space.
"It appears that some one has plunged through here in a hurry," he told
himself. "The branches are bent as if--Odin!"
There was no need of finishing his thought. His eyes had the answer
before them, a shaggy figure crouching among the bushes, so motionless
that it might have passed for one of them. An instant he also stood
motionless, staring back at the eyes that he could feel without seeing;
then Viking training flashed two thoughts to his brain,--that the
creature was aiming at him from the darkness, and that he must lose no
time in advancing. Clutching his sword-hilt, he sprang forward.
After that there was no chance for reflection. For a second the blade
stuck; and in the delay a copper-colored arm shot out and fastened on
his wrist, while the other copper-colored arm brandished a stone hatchet
over his head. With his left hand he caught that arm and held it off;
and they swayed, panting, in the firelight that gave him his first
glimpse of the foe all sailors yarned about,--the bristling black hair
and wide-rimmed beast-bright eyes, and the skin of unearthly hue showing
under the animal hides of the covering. Under the copper-colored skin,
the muscles were like copper wire. Strong as he was, Alrek could not
twist aside that wrist above his head. He gave up trying, presently, and
limited his efforts to freeing his sword-arm. Putting all his force into
the wrench, he succeeded at last in loosing it and shooting forth his
weapon--and that was all that he had to do! At the bare sight of it,
darting glittering from its sheath like lightning from a cloud, the
Skraelling uttered a yell of terror, dropped the hatchet from his hand
and his hands from their hold, and flung himself backward into the
darkness. There was a crackling of brush, the spat of bare feet upon
sand, and then--silence.
Gradually the Sword-Bearer's amazement gave way to amusement. "He
thought it was magic,--here is a joke of the Fates!" he breathed. "If
Thorwald had but shown them steel, it is likely that he could have put
the whole host to flight! Never could I have wrested the hatchet from
him. Now it is likely that my kinswoman Gudrid will open her eyes when
I show her this!" Bending over the embers, he examined the weapon with
deep interest; the edge was knife-sharp. "It would have cleft me as if
it cut cheese!" he muttered; and was laughing in somewhat unsteady
congratulation when the sound of feet scrambling up the slope
straightened him to greet Gard.
For a space the Ugly One stared about him, blinking in the firelight;
then the eagerness of his swarthy face gave way to bitterest reproach.
"You scared them away before I had a chance to see them?" he cried.
"Slipped away, because my back was turned, and got all the sport for
yourself? Never would I have believed it of you! Never----"
Alrek threw up his hands in honest compunction. "Gard, I beg of you to
forgive me! It is the truth that when I saw the light, I forgot that you
were alive. And I feared the Skraellings would get away before I could
see them. I intended only to creep up and look, without--" He broke off
and stood with his mouth open, staring at the other.
Involuntarily, Gard whirled to dart a glance over his shoulder; and
finding nothing, cried out, sharply; "What ails you? Have you got out of
your wits?"
Alrek regained his self-control with a short laugh. "I think I have," he
answered. "Do you know another thing besides yourself that I forgot? I
forgot Karlsefne's command to keep the peace."