CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

DISAPPOINTMENT TERMINATES IN UNLOOKED-FOR SUCCESS, AND THE SAGA COMES TO

AN END.

During some weeks after the events narrated in the last chapter, the

Scottish brothers continued quietly, stealthily, and steadily to collect

provisions and all things necessary for the projected voyage across the

Atlantic.

During the same period the general business of the settlement was

prosecuted with activity. The Christian missionaries not only

instructed the people in the new faith, and baptised those that

believed, but assisted and guided them in the building of huts and

houses, the planning of wharves and the laying out of townships; [see

Note at end of Chapter] while the crews of the two recently arrived

ships, having found it necessary to make up their minds to winter in

Greenland, busied themselves in collecting fats, oil, skins, feathers,

etcetera, to be packed and got ready for shipment in the following

spring.

Karlsefin also made preparations for a voyage in spring to Iceland, and

Thorward, Biarne, Krake, and the other Vinland heroes assisted in that

work, or in some other of the multifarious duties that had to be

attended to in the colony, while Olaf undertook the responsible duty of

superintending the education, mental and physical, of that rampant

little Vinlander, Snorro, the son of Karlsefin.

Leif Ericsson exercised a sort of general superintendence of the whole

colony. It seemed to be tacitly agreed on and admitted that he was the

national chief or governor, and as no one was disposed to dispute his

claim to that position all was peace and harmony.

Nevertheless there was something unusual in Leif's manner at that time

which rather perplexed his friends, and quite puzzled Anders, his

major-domo.

That free and easy individual could not understand the dreamy moods into

which his master fell, still less could he comprehend the gleams of

quiet humour and expressions of intense seriousness, with other

contradictory appearances, which occasionally manifested themselves in

Leif's visage and demeanour. It was plain that there was much on his

mind, and that much of that was gay as well as grave. Anders made

several attempts to find out what was the matter, but was met at one

time with grave evasion, at another with quiet jocularity, which left

him as wise as before.

Towards the Scottish brothers Leif maintained an unvarying aspect of

reserve, which filled them with uneasiness; but with the female members

of his household, and the children, he was all gentleness, and often

playful.

"Leif," said Karlsefin to him one day, "it appears to me that something

weighs on your mind, or else ye have left some of your wits in Vinland."

"Think ye not that the cares of such a large and growing colony are

sufficient to account for any new wrinkles that may appear on my brow?"

replied Leif, with a peculiar smile, and a glance from the corner of his

eye.

"Well, I daresay that might account for it, and yet things are swimming

on so well that these cares do not seem to be much increased."

"Sometimes domestic cares trouble a man more than public ones,

Karlsefin. Look at thy friend Thorward, now. 'Tis little that he would

care for a mountain of outside troubles on his broad shoulders if he

might only drop them when he crossed the threshold of his own door."

"That is true," returned the other; "if a man have not peace in his own

house, there is no peace for him on earth. Nevertheless my friend

Thorward is not in such a bad case. Freydissa has improved vastly of

late, and Thorward has also grown more amiable and less contradictions--

add to which, he and she love each other dearly. But, Leif, there can

be no domestic troubles in your case, for your household is well

ordered."

"Thank God there are none," said Leif seriously. It was the first time

that Leif had used that expression, and his friend heard it with some

surprise and pleasure, but said nothing.

"Still," continued Leif, "I am not destitute of troubles. Has not that

thrall Hake overturned the peace of my sweet kinswoman Bertha? The girl

loves the thrall--I can see that, as plain as I can see the vane on

yonder mast-head--and there is no cure for love!"

Karlsefin looked earnestly at his friend as if about to speak, but

observing the stern frown on Leif's countenance, he forbore.

In a minute or so Karlsefin remarked quietly that Hake was a faithful

thrall.

"I'm not so sure of that as ye seem to be," returned Leif, with

increasing sternness, "but, whether faithful or not, no thrall shall

ever wed Bertha."

"What is that you say about Bertha?" asked Biarne, coming up just then.

"Nothing of moment," replied Leif. "What news bring you, Biarne? for

that ye bring news is plain by the glance of your eye."

"My eye is an incorrigible tell-tale," cried Biarne, laughing.

"However, it has not much to tell at present. Only that you are about

to receive a visit from some old friends, and that Anders will have to

keep his kettles full for some time to come. A band of Skraelingers

are--. But here they come to speak for themselves."

At that moment a troop of the Greenland savages came round the point--

the identical point where they had received such a terrible shock some

years before--with Flatface dancing joyously in front of them.

Flatface had heard of their coming, had gone out to meet them, had found

several of his relations among them, and was now returning, scarce able

to contain himself with delight, as he made their mouths water by

dilating at great length on the delicious things contained in Anders's

capacious kettles.

While Leif and the others went to meet the Skraelingers, Heika and his

brother sat in their own sleeping-closet, talking in a low tone, and

making the final arrangements for their flight.

"Now are ye sure that all is on board--nothing omitted?" asked Hake,

"for it will be hard to obtain anything once we are out on the sea, and

we can't well return to fetch what we have forgotten."

"All is ready," answered Heika sadly. "I cannot tell how much it

grieves me to go away in this fashion; but freedom must be regained at

any price. Now remember, meet me exactly when the moon shows its upper

edge above the sea to-night. Not later, and not sooner, for the longer

ye can remain about the hall the less likely will any one be to inquire

after _me_."

"I will be sure not to fail you; but, Heika, is that not a little too

late? The flood-tide will be past, and if there is any sea on, it will

be ill passing the skerries, many of which are but little covered, even

at high water."

"Trust me, Hake; it will not be too late. Be sure that ye come no

sooner--else evil may ensue."

"My heart sinks when I think of Bertha," said Hake, with a deep sigh.

"It will seem so cold, so hard, so unaccountable, to leave her without

one word, one farewell."

"Think better of it, brother," said Heika eagerly; "I am prepared to

start alone even now!"

"Never!" exclaimed Hake, flushing,--"What? shall I draw back like a

coward at the last moment, after pledging my word to go? and shall I

leave you to face this enterprise alone? Nay, Heika, we have suffered

for many years together, we shall triumph now together--or perish."

"My poor brother," said Heika, grasping Hake's hand, and kissing it with

deep feeling.--"But go now to the hall, and leave me; I hear them laying

the tables for supper. The window is easily removed; I will hasten at

once and get things ready. Take good care not to re-enter this closet

after leaving it, for the carls are moving about the hall, and may

chance to observe that it is empty. Be circumspect, brother."

They squeezed hands again, and Hake went into the hall, where he mingled

with the house-carls, and chatted carelessly about the events of the

day.

The instant he was gone Heika rose and removed the parchment window,

took a billet of firewood and laid it across the bed, then, leaping out,

he walked smartly towards the west end of the village.

It was beginning to grow dark, and few of the people were about. To

those whom he passed Heika nodded familiarly, but did not stop. The

moment he had rounded the cliff which hid Brattalid from view, he ran

westward at full speed.

Meanwhile supper was laid in the hall, and all were awaiting the

entrance of the master of the house and Karlsefin, but there was no

appearance of either. After a quarter of an hour had passed, and they

were beginning to wonder what had become of them, the door opened and

Biarne entered, saying that Leif had sent him to say that as he had

business which would keep him out late, they were not to wait supper for

him.

Hake began to feel somewhat uneasy at this, and when supper was finished

he resolved to leave the house a little before the appointed time. For

that purpose he entered the sleeping-closet, intending to pass out by

the window.

The first thing that caught his eye was the billet of firewood lying

_across the bed_! His heart almost stood still at the sight, for this,

coupled with Heika's display of deep feeling, and their recent

conversation about signs, caused the truth to flash upon him.

With one bound he passed through the window and flew westward like the

wind-round the point, over the ridge, and down towards the appointed

rendezvous at the skerries.

But, to return to Heika. When he neared the inlet he changed his pace

to a rapid walk, and glanced cautiously from side to side, to make quite

sure that he was not observed by any one who might chance to have

wandered in that direction.

Now, it is a well-known fact in the affairs of this world, that many

strange things occur in a most unaccountable manner. Who can tell how

it was, or why it was that, just a few minutes before Heika approached

the inlet from the landward side, a small boat entered it from the

seaward side, out of which stepped Leif Ericsson and Karlsefin? They

drew their boat into a corner in deep shadow, and then, going to another

corner, also in deep shadow, sat down on a ledge of rock without

uttering a single word.

They had never been in that inlet before; had never seen it, probably

never thought of it before, yet there they were, quietly seated in it--

and, just in the nick of time!

From the place where they sat neither their own boat nor Leif's could be

seen--only the landward opening of the inlet.

Presently approaching footsteps were heard. The two friends rose. A

moment later and Heika stood before them. He stopped abruptly on

beholding them, and his eyes blazed with astonishment, rage, and

despair. Suddenly he looked round as if in search of a weapon, or of a

way of escape.

"Be wise, lad," said Leif, kindly yet very gravely; "no evil will come

of it if ye are wise, and take your misfortunes like a man."

Heika was subdued by the gentle tone. He crossed his arms on his

heaving chest, and stood erect before them with his head slightly

drooped, and a look of profound sadness, rather than disappointment, on

his countenance.

"Come hither, Heika," said Leif, pointing seaward, "I have somewhat to

show thee."

They went down the beach till they stood beside the boat, which was

ready for sea.

"This is a strange sight," he continued; "here is an excellent boat,

well found, well loaded, well busked in every way for a long voyage.

Knowest thou aught in regard to it, Heika?"

"I know," answered the Scot, bitterly, "that if ye had come hither only

half-an-hour later, that boat would have been on its way with me to

Scotland."

"What, with you _alone_?"

"Ay--with me alone."

"That is strange," said Leif, somewhat perplexed; "I had fancied that

you brothers loved each other passing well; but I suppose that a man who

can be guilty of ingratitude is not to be much depended on in the matter

of affection."

Heika winced at these words--not that the charge of ingratitude affected

him, but he could not submit calmly to the unjust supposition that in

his contemplated flight he had been actuated by selfish indifference to

his brother. At the same time he would not condescend to give any

explanation of his conduct. Drawing himself up, he looked Leif full in

the face.

"Norseman," he said, "small is the gratitude I owe to thee. 'Tis true,

ye have treated me and my brother kindly since we came hither, and for

that I owe thee thanks, and would gladly have paid this debt before

leaving, had such been consistent with flight; but kindness, however

great, is not a worthy price for liberty, and when King Olaf Tryggvisson

sent me to thee, I made no promise to sell my liberty at such a price.

But in regard to Hake--"

"Ay, in regard to Hake, go on; why dost thou stop?" said Leif, in a

stern tone. "There is some truth in what ye say about gratitude; but

what of Hake?"

The Scot still remained silent, with his lips compressed, and dropped

his eyes sternly on the ground.

"This seems to me a bad business," said Karlsefin, who had hitherto

listened with an expression of anxiety and disappointment gradually

deepening on his countenance. "I had thought better of thee, Heika.

Surely Hake's longing to be free and in his own native land must be to

the full as strong as thine. I am puzzled, moreover, for two were

better than one in the mad voyage ye thought to undertake."

Heika smiled at this.

"Truly," he said, "my brother loves his native land and freedom,

nevertheless he prefers bondage to freedom, and Greenland to his native

land. And yet would he fain have sacrificed his preference, and

resigned his bondage out of love to me, if I would have allowed him."

"Resigned his bondage, Heika!" exclaimed Leif. "Ye speak in riddles,

man; what mean you?"

Instead of replying the Scot looked at Leif with an intelligent smile,

and held up his forefinger as if to call attention. At the same moment

the sound as if of some one running at full speed was heard faintly in

the distance.

Leif and Karlsefin looked at the Scot in surprise.

"It is my brother," he said, sadly.

In a few seconds the steps were close at hand. Leif seized Karlsefin by

the arm, and dragged him swiftly under the deep shadow of the cliffs

just as Hake came through the narrow opening with such a rush that on

seeing Heika he could not avoid plunging violently into his extended

arms.

"Was this right in thee, brother?" he cried, laying his hand on Heika's

shoulder, on recovering himself; "was it wise to treat me thus like a

child?"

"It was kindly meant," said Heika, much perplexed as to how he should

act in existing circumstances.

"Kindly meant!" exclaimed Hake, vehemently. "Ay, well do I know that,

yet it was not wisely kind to forsake me after promising to take me with

you, when ye knew that I did but leave Bertha for a time, and meant to

come back and win or demand her from--."

"Hush! brother, hush!" cried Heika, laying his hand on the other's

mouth. "Whatever I thought or meant to do matters little now, for I

have found it impossible to undertake this voyage after all."

"Impossible!" echoed Hake; "why, what craven spirit has come over thee?

Is not the boat ready? am not _I_ ready, and is not the opportunity

favourable?"

"All is ready, no doubt," replied Heika, hesitating, "but--"

"But the truth is," cried Leif, as he and Karlsefin issued from their

place of concealment, laughing heartily, "the truth is, that the

opportunity is _not_ favourable, for I have some objection to either of

you leaving me at present--though the objection is not so strong but

that it might give way if ye desired it greatly. Come hither, all of

you."

He went a few steps towards the boat, and pointing to it, said--"Tell

me, Hake, for thou art not a bad counsellor at need, dost think that

vessel there is a sufficiently large one to venture a voyage in it on

these northern seas at this time of year?"

"It is large enough for men who would be free," replied Hake moodily,

for his astonishment on first beholding his master had given place to

deep mortification, now that he perceived his brother's hopes and plans

were frustrated.

"Nay, as to being free," returned Leif, with a laugh, "thy brother

hinted not long ago something about thy preference for thraldom, in

regard to which I now perceive some glimmering of reason; but I ask thee

for a matter-of-fact opinion. Dost think there would be much risk in

the voyage thy brother contemplated?"

"There would be some risk, doubtless, yet not so much but that we would

have run it for the sake of freedom."

"H'm! In my opinion it would have been a mad venture," rejoined Leif.

"What say you, Karlsefin?"

"A useless venture, as well as mad," he replied; "for death, not

freedom, would have been the end of it."

"So I think," returned Leif, "and that is my only objection to your

undertaking it, Hake. Nevertheless if you and Heika are still willing

to venture, ye may do so. There lies the boat; a fair wind is blowing

outside; get on board, shove off, hoist the sail and away to bonny

Scotland if you will, for _I grant you freedom to go_!"

"It is ill to jest with thralls," said Heika, looking sternly at his

master.

"Nay, I do not jest--nor are ye thralls," replied Leif, assuming a look

and tone of unwonted seriousness. "Give me your attention, friends; and

thou, Karlsefin, take note of what I say, for I care not to talk much on

this subject until my mind is more clear upon it. My opinion is that

this new religion which we hear so much of just now, is _true_. It is

of God--not of man, and I believe that Jesus Christ, my Lord, has come

in the flesh to save His people from their sins. Many things have led

me to this opinion, in regard to which I will not speak. I have thought

and heard much for some years past, and woefully have I been staggered,

as well as helped on, by the men who have been sent to Greenland with

the Good News. Some have, by their conduct squaring with their

profession, led me to believe. Others have, by their conduct belying

their profession, hindered me. But the Lord Himself has led me into a

certain measure of light; and there is one law of His in particular,

which just now comes home to me with much power, namely

this--`Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so

unto them.' This law, I am persuaded, is of God. Long have I lived,

and never before have I seen it acted on till these Christians came

amongst us. They do not, indeed, always practise as they teach; but

they are imperfect, therefore they cannot practise _fully_ as they

teach, because they teach _perfection_. This law I shall henceforth

follow as I best can. I follow it to-day. If I were in thraldom to

_you_, Heika, just now, I would wish you to set me free, therefore I now

set you and your brother free. The rule is very simple of application.

It only wants a willing spirit. And let me add--ye have to thank the

Lord, not me, for your freedom."

The brothers stood speechless with surprise on hearing this, but

Karlsefin grasped Leif's hand and said very earnestly--"Ye have done

well, brother. Long have I thought to urge thee to this, and frequently

have I asked of Him that it might be as it has turned out. Now, my

prayer is answered. But what say Heika and Hake to this?"

"Never mind what they say," returned Leif brusquely. "Doubtless their

thoughts interfere with their speech at present. And hark 'ee, all; as

I said before, I desire to have no further talk at present on this

point. Ye are welcome to tell whom ye please what I have said, and what

I have done, and why I have done it--there let the matter rest. So now,

Heika and Hake," he added, in a gay tone, "I mean what I say. There

lies the boat, and ye are free to go if it please you. Only, if ye will

accept my advice you will make up your minds to spend this winter in

Greenland as my guests, and in spring there will be better weather and a

more fitting craft to carry you over the sea to Scotland. Meanwhile

Hake will have ample opportunity to woo, win, and wed--without

demanding--the fair Bertha!"

Need we say that the brothers gladly accepted this generous invitation,

and endeavoured, in spite of Leif's prohibition, to express their

gratitude in a few earnest though broken sentences.

Great was the surprise that night in Brattalid, when it was made known

that Leif Ericsson had given freedom to his thralls out of regard to the

Christian religion. Leif afterwards told his friends that it was out of

regard to the Founder of that religion, but it was long before many of

the people could see a distinction in that. Numerous were the

theological discussions, too, which this act of emancipation called

forth in every household, and great was the joy which it created in one

or two hearts.

To say nothing of the young Scots themselves, it caused the heart of

timid little Bertha to sing for joy, while Gudrid, Astrid, and Thora

rejoiced sympathetically, and looked forward with pleasant anticipation

to the approaching marriage. Even Freydissa opened out in a new light

on the occasion, and congratulated her handmaiden heartily, telling her

with real sincerity that marriage was the only thing she was fit for!

But it was Olaf who displayed the greatest amount of feeling on the

occasion, and it was Snorro on whom he expended himself!

On the morning after the great event, he hoisted Snorro on his back with

his wonted care and tenderness, and hurried off with him to the solitude

of the sea-shore--for, alas! there were no umbrageous solitudes in

Greenland. There, not far from the spot where Flatface and his friends

had once been made to wriggle their coat-tails with terror, he set

Snorro down, and, sitting on a rock beside him, said--

"Now, old man, it is going to have a talk with me."

"Iss," replied Snorro, very contentedly.

"Does it know what has happened to Hake and Heika?"

Snorro shook his head.

"Well, my father has set them both free."

"Bof f'ee?" repeated Snorro, with a puzzled look.

"Yes, both."

"W'at's _f'ee_?" asked Snorro.

Olaf was greatly perplexed, for he knew not how to convey an idea of the

meaning of that word to his little friend. He made various attempts,

however, by means of simple illustrations and words, to explain it, but

without success--as was made plain by Snorro's usually intelligent

countenance remaining a perfect blank.

At last he seized the child by both wrists and held him fast for a few

seconds.

"Snorro," he said, "you are _not_ free while I hold you. Now," he

added, releasing the wrists, "you _are_ free."

Snorro's countenance was no longer blank, but, on the contrary,

extremely perplexed.

"Leif," he said, "no' hold Heika an' Hake by e _hands_!"

"No," replied Olaf, "but he holds them by the spirit."

"W'at's spiwit?" asked Snorro.

Olaf was in despair!

"Well, well," he cried, after stroking his chin and pulling his nose,

and knuckling his forehead in the vain hope of hitting on some other

mode of explaining his meaning; "it don't matter, old man. They are

free, and that has made them very happy; and oh! I am very glad,

because I am so fond of Hake. Don't you remember how he came to save us

from the Skraelingers, and nearly did it too? And he is going to be

married to Bertha. Isn't that nice? It knows what married means, don't

it?"

"No," said Snorro.

"Well, no matter; it's what seems to make everybody very happy; and

Bertha is very happy, and so am I, for I'm fond of Bertha, as well as of

Hake; and so is Snorro, isn't he?"

"Iss," replied Snorro, with a very decided nod.

"Well, that's all very pleasant," continued Olaf, running on with the

subject until it led him into another subject, which led him into a

third and fourth, and so on, with the ever-varying moods of his gay and

fanciful mind, until he was led in spirit to Vinland, where he and

Snorro remained lost in the woods, perfectly contented and happy, for

the remainder of the day.

And now, patient reader, we must lead you in spirit away from the scenes

on which we have dwelt so long, across the wide ocean to Scotland.

There, on the heights of a lion-like hill, stand Heika and Hake. A

precipitous crag rises behind them. In front towers a rock, from which

Edwin's castle frowns down on the huts of an embryo city. The

undulating woodland between resounds with the notes of the huntsman's

horn. Away in the distance lie the clear waters of the fiord of Forth,

and the background of Scotia's highland hills mingling with the sky.

The brothers stand in rapt and silent admiration of the scene, as well

they may, for it is surpassingly beautiful. But they do not stand

alone. Bertha leans on Hake's arm, and a tall girl with dark hair leans

on Heika's. Beside them stands a fine-looking though somewhat delicate

old man; whose benignant gaze seems to be more attracted by the young

people than the scenery.

Need we say that this is the Scottish Earl, the father of our

fleet-footed thralls, and that the dark-haired girl is Emma? We will

not violate your sense of propriety, gentle reader, by talking of Mrs

Heika; nor will we venture to make reference to the little Heikas left

at home!

But these are not all the party. Karlsefin, Biarne, and Thorward are

there--on a visit to the Earl--with Gudrid and Freydissa; and away on

the fiord they can see their two Norse galleys towering like quaint

giants at rest among the small craft that ply and skim about there.

Shall we listen to what our friends say? We think not. Too long

already have we caused them to break the silence which they have

maintained for the last eight hundred years. Let us rather bid their

shades depart with a kind farewell.

But before the memory of them is quite gone, let us say a word or two in

conclusion.

Whether the Norsemen ever returned again to Vinland is a matter of

uncertainty, for the saga is silent on that point; and it is to be

feared that Snorro, the first American, did not return to take

possession of his native land, for when the great continent was

re-discovered about five hundred years later, only "red-skins" were

found there; and the Pilgrim Fathers make no mention of having met with

descendants of any colony of white men.

What ultimately became of Snorro and Olaf is, we regret to say, unknown.

This, however, is certain, that Karlsefin, according to his

oft-expressed intention, retired to Iceland, where he dwelt happily with

Gudrid, Leif, Biarne, and Thorward for many years. It is therefore

probable that Snorro and Olaf took to a seafaring life, which was almost

the only life open to enterprising men in those days. If they did, they

distinguished themselves--there can be no doubt whatever upon that

point.

As to the other personages who have figured in our tale, we can only

surmise--at least hope--that they lived long and happily, for the saga

relates nothing as to the end of their respective careers. But of this

we are quite sure, that wherever they went, or however long they lived,

they never failed to retain a lively recollection of that romantic

period of their lives when they sojourned in the pleasant groves of

Vinland--that mighty continent which, all unsuspected by these men of

old, was destined, in the course of time, to play such a grand and

important part in the world's history.

Thus ends all that we have got to tell of the adventures of the Norsemen

in the West, and the Discovery of America before Columbus.

The Norsemen in the West · 第 43 / 45 题