DARK WAR-CLOUDS LOWER, BUT CLEAR AWAY WITHOUT A SHOWER--VOICES AND LEGS
DO GOOD SERVICE.
"Up, carls, buckle on your war-gear!" cried Leif, rising hastily on
hearing the announcement with which the last chapter ended.
"Run, Thorward, call out our men," whispered Karlsefin; "I will stay to
learn what Leif means to do. Bring them all up to the door."
Thorward was gone almost before the sentence was finished. Leif and his
house-carls, of whom there were ten present at the time, did not take
long to busk them for the fight. The Norse of old were born, bred, and
buried--if they escaped being killed and cut to pieces--in the midst of
alarms. Their armour was easily donned, and not very cumbrous. Even
while Leif was giving the first order to his men, Gudrid had run to the
peg on which hung his sword and helmet, and brought him these implements
of war.
"My men and I shall be able to render you some service, Leif," said
Karlsefin; "what do you intend to do?"
"Do!" exclaimed Leif with a grim laugh, as he buckled on his sword,
"why, I shall give the Skraelingers a tremendous fright, that is all.
The rascals! They knew well that we were short-handed just now, and
thought to take advantage of us; but hah! they do not seem to be aware
that we chance to have stout visitors with us to-night. So, lads,
follow me."
Biarne, meanwhile, had darted out on the first alarm, and assembled all
the men in the settlement, so that when Leif, Karlsefin, and the
housemen issued out of the cottage they found about a dozen men
assembled, and others running up every moment to join them. Before
these were put in array most of the men of Karlsefin's ship, numbering
forty, and those belonging to Thorward, numbering thirty, came up, so
that when all were mustered they were little if at all short of one
hundred stout warriors.
The moon came out brightly at the time, and Leif chuckled as he watched
Biarne put the men hastily into marching order.
"Methought you said that war was distasteful," observed Karlsefin, in
some surprise.
"So it is, so it is, friend," replied Leif, still laughing in a low
tone; "but there will be no war to-night. Leave your bows behind you,
lads," he added, addressing the men; "you won't want them; shield and
sword will be enough. For the matter of that, we might do without both.
Now, lads, follow my leading, and do as I bid you; advance with as
little noise as may be."
So saying, Leif led the way out of the little hamlet towards the
extremity of the ridge or spur of the mountains that sheltered
Ericsfiord from the north-west.
Towards that same extremity another band of men were hastening on the
other side of the ridge. It was a band of our hairy friends whom the
Norsemen called Skraelingers.
Truly there was something grand in the look and bearing of the tall man
with the flat face, as he led his band to attack the warlike Norsemen,
and there was something almost sublime in the savage, resolute aspect of
the men who followed him--each being armed with a large walrus spear,
and each being, moreover, an adept in the use of it.
Flatface (in default of a better, let that name stick to him) had
ascertained beyond a doubt that the entire available force of Norsemen
in Ericsfiord had, in consequence of fishing and other expeditions, been
reduced to barely thirty fighting men. He himself could muster a band
of at least one hundred and fifty good men and true--not to mention
hairy, a hundred and fifty seals having unwillingly contributed their
coats to cover these bloodthirsty Skraelingers. The Norsemen, Flatface
knew, were strong men and bold, besides being large, but he resolved to
take them by surprise, and surely (he argued with himself) a hundred and
fifty brave men with spears will be more than a match for thirty sleepy
men unarmed and in bed!
Flatface had screwed himself up with such considerations; made a few
more inflammatory speeches to his men, by way of screwing them up also,
and then, a little before midnight, set forth on his expedition.
Now it chanced that there was a man among the Norsemen who was a great
hunter and trapper. His name was Tyrker--the same Tyrker mentioned by
Leif as being the man who had found grapes in Vinland. Leif said he was
a German, but he said so on no better authority than the fact that he
had originally come to Norway from the south of Europe. It is much more
probable that he was a Turk, for, whereas the Germans are known to be a
well-sized handsome race of fair men, this Tyrker was an ugly little
dark wiry fellow, with a high forehead, sharp eyes, and a small face;
but he was extremely active, and, although an elderly man, few of the
youths in Ericsfiord could beat him at feats requiring dexterity.
But, whether German or Turk, Tyrker was an enthusiastic trapper of
white, or arctic foxes. These creatures being very numerous in that
part of Greenland, he was wont to go out at all hours, late and early,
to visit his traps. Hence it happened that, on the night in question,
Tyrker found himself in company with two captured arctic foxes at, the
extremity of the mountain spur before referred to.
He could see round the corner of the spur into the country beyond, but
as the country there was not attractive, even at its best, he paid no
attention to it. He chanced, however, to cast upon it one glance after
setting his traps, just as he was about to return home. That glance
called forth a steady look, which was followed by a stare of surprise,
and the deep guttural utterance of the word "zz-grandimaghowl!" which,
no doubt, was Turkish, at that ancient date, for "hallo!"
It was the band of hairy creatures that had met his astonished sight.
Tyrker shrank behind the spur and peeped round it for a few seconds to
make quite sure. Then, turning and creeping fairly out of sight, he
rose and bounded back to the hamlet, as though he had been a youth of
twenty. As we have seen, he arrived, gasping, in time to warn his
friends.
Between the hamlet and the spur where Tyrker's traps were set there were
several promontories, or projections from the cliffs, all of which had
to be passed before the spur came in view. Leif led his men past the
first and second of these at a run. Then, believing that he had gone
far enough, he ordered his band to draw close up under the cliffs, where
the shadow was deepest, saying that he would go alone in advance to
reconnoitre.
"And mark me, lads," he said, "when I give a loud sneeze, do you give
vent to a roar that will only stop short of splitting your lungs; then
give chase, and yell to your hearts' content as you run; but see to it
that ye keep together and that no man runs past _me_. There is plenty
of moonlight to let you see what you're about. If any man tries to
overshoot me in the race I'll hew off his head."
This last remark was no figure of speech. In those days men were but
too well accustomed to hewing off heads. Leif meant to have his orders
attended to, and the men understood him.
On reaching the second projection of cliff after leaving his men, Leif
peeped round cautiously and beheld the advancing Skraelingers several
hundred yards off. He returned at once to his men and took up a
position at their head in the deep shadow of the cliffs.
Although absolutely invisible themselves, the Norsemen could see the
Skraelingers quite plainly in the moonlight, as they came slowly and
with great caution round each turn of the footpath that led to the
hamlet. There was something quite awe-inspiring in the manner of their
approach. Evidently Flatface dreaded a surprise, for he put each leg
very slowly in advance of the other, and went on tiptoe, glancing
quickly on either side between each step. His followers--in a compact
body, in deep silence and with bated breath--followed his steps and his
example.
When they came to the place where the men crouched in ambush, Leif took
up a large stone and cast it high over their heads. So quietly was this
done that none even of his own party heard him move or saw the stone,
though they heard it fall with a _thud_ on the sand beyond.
The Skraelingers heard it too, and stopped abruptly--each man on one
leg, with the other leg and his arms more or less extended, just as if
he had been suddenly petrified. So in truth he had been--with horror!
To meet an open enemy, however powerful, would have been a pleasure
compared with that slow nervous advance in the midst of such dead
silence! As nothing followed the sound, however, the suspended legs
began to descend slowly again towards the ground, when Leif sneezed!
If Greenland's icy mountains had become one monstrous polar bear, whose
powers of voice, frozen for prolonged ages, had at last found vent that
night in one concentrated roar, the noise could scarcely have excelled
that which instantly exploded from the Norsemen.
The effect on the Skraelingers was almost miraculous. A bomb-shell
bursting in the midst of a hundred and fifty Kilkenny cats could not
have been more effective, and the result would certainly have borne some
marks of resemblance. Each hairy creature sprang nearly his own height
into the air, and wriggled while there, as if impatient to turn and fly
before reaching the ground. Earth regained, the more active among them
overshot and overturned the clumsy, whereby fifty or sixty were
instantly cast down, but these rose again like spring-jacks and fled,
followed by a roar of laughter from their foes, which, mingled as it was
with howls and yells, did infinitely more to appal the Skraelingers than
the most savage war-cry could have done.
But they were followed by more than laughter. The Norsemen immediately
gave chase--still yelling and roaring as they ran, for Leif set the
example, and his followers remembered his threat.
Karlsefin and Biarne kept one on each side of Leif, about a pace behind
him.
"If they fight as well as they run," observed the former, "they must be
troublesome neighbours."
"They are not bad fighters," replied Leif; "but sometimes they deem it
wise to run."
"Not unlike to other people in that respect," said Biarne; "but it seems
to me that we might overhaul them if we were to push on."
He shot up to Leif as he spoke, but the latter checked him.
"Hold back, Biarne; I mean them no harm, and wish no bloodshed--only
they must have a good fright. The lads, no doubt, would like to run in
and make short work of them; but I intend to breathe the lads, which
will in the end do just as well as fighting to relieve their feelings.--
Enough. It is ill talking and running."
They were silent after that, and ran thus for fully an hour, at nearly
the top of their speed. But Leif sometimes checked his men, and
sometimes urged them on, so that they fancied he was chasing with full
intent to run the Skraelingers down. When the fugitives showed signs of
flagging, he uttered a tremendous roar, and his men echoed it, sending
such a thrill to the hearts of the Skraelingers that they seemed to
recover fresh wind and strength; then he pushed after them harder than
ever, and so managed that, without catching or killing one, he terrified
them almost out of their wits, and ran them nearly to death.
At last they came to a place where there was an abrupt bend in the
mountains. Here Leif resolved to let them go. When they were pretty
near the cliff round which the path turned, he put on what, in modern
sporting phraseology, is termed a spurt, and came up so close with the
flying band that those in rear began to glance despairingly over their
shoulders. Suddenly Leif gave vent to a roar, into which he threw all
his remaining strength. It was taken up and prolonged by his men. The
horror-struck Skraelingers shrieked in reply, swept like a torrent round
the projecting cliff, and disappeared!
Leif stopped at once, and held up his hand. All his men stopped short
also, and though they heard the Skraelingers still howling as they fled,
no one followed them any farther. Indeed, most of the Norsemen were
panting vehemently, and rather glad than otherwise to be allowed to
halt.
There were, however, two young men among them--tall, strong-boned, and
thin, but with broad shoulders, and grave, earnest, though not exactly
handsome countenances--who appeared to be perfectly cool and in good
wind after their long run. Leif noticed them at once.
"Yonder youths seem to think little of this sort of thing," he said to
Karlsefin.
"You are right, Leif; it is mere child's play to them. These are the
two Scots--the famous runners--whom I was charged by King Olaf to
present to you. Why, these men, I'll engage to say, could overtake the
Skraelingers even yet, if they chose."
"Say you so?" cried Leif. "Do they speak Norse?"
"Yes; excellently well."
"Their names?"
"The one is Heika, the other Hake."
"Ho! Hake and Heika, come hither," cried Leif, beckoning to the men,
and hastening round the point, where the Skraelingers could be seen
nearly a mile off, and still running as if all the evil spirits of the
North were after them.
"See there, carls; think you that ye could overtake these rascals?"
The Scots looked at each other, nodded, smiled, and said they thought
they could.
"Do it, then. Let them see how you can use your legs, and give them a
shout as you draw near; but have a care: do them no hurt, and see that
they do no injury to you. Take no arms; your legs must suffice on this
occasion."
The Scots looked again at each other, and laughed, as if they enjoyed
the joke; then they started off like a couple of deer at a pace which no
Norseman legs had ever before equalled, or even approached.
Leif, Biarne, and the men gazed in speechless wonder, much to the
amusement of Karlsefin and Thorward, while Hake and Heika made straight
for the flying band and came up with them. They shouted wildly as they
drew near. The Skraelingers looked back, and seeing only two unarmed
men, stopped to receive them.
"As the saying goes," remarked Biarne, "a stern chase is a long one; but
to-night proves the truth of that other saying, that there is no rule
without an exception."
"What are they doing now?" cried Leif, laughing. "See--they are mad!"
Truly it seemed as if they were; for, after separating and coursing
twice completely round the astonished natives, the two Scots performed a
species of war-dance before them, which had a sort of fling about it,
more easily conceived than described. In the middle of this they made a
dart at the group so sudden and swift that Hake managed to overturn
Flatface with a tremendous buffet, and Heika did the same to his second
in command with an energetic cuff. The Skraelingers were taken so
thoroughly by surprise that the Scots had sheered off and got out of
reach before a spear could be thrown.
Of course a furious rush was made at them, but the hairy men might as
well have chased the wind. After tormenting and tantalising them a
little longer, the Scots returned at full speed to their friends, and
the Skraelingers, glad to be rid of them, hastened to seek the shelter
of the gloomy gorge from which they had originally issued, "like a wolf
on the fold."