Soon we knew that she must be the ship of some great chief, for her
broad sail was striped with red and white, and the sun gleamed and
sparkled from gilding on her high stemhead, and from the gilded
truck of the mast. Then we made out that a carven dragon reared
itself on the stem, while all down the gunwale were hung the round
red and yellow war boards, the shields which are set along the rail
to heighten it when fighting is on hand. We looked to see the men
on watch on the fore deck, but there were none, though, indeed, the
upward sweep of the gunwale might hide them.
Presently she yawed again in that clumsy way which we were
wondering at, and showed us her whole side, pierced for sixteen
oars, and bright with the shields, for a moment, and then she was
back on her course. We could not see the steersman for the sail, in
any case, but we saw no one on deck.
Now we were right across her bows, and within hail of her, and yet
no man had shown himself. Bertric and I lifted our voices together
in a great hail, and then in a second, and third, but there was no
answer. Only she yawed and swung away from us as if she would pass
us, and at that Dalfin cried out, while I paid off fast to follow
her, and again Bertric hailed. Now she was broad off our bows and
to the starboard, an arrow flight from us, and Bertric and I were
staring at her in amazement. She was the most wonderfully appointed
ship in all sea bravery we had ever seen--but there was no man at
the helm, and not a soul on deck.
"They are asleep, or dead," said I; and hailed again and again, all
the while edging down to her, until we were running on the same
course, side by side.
"We must overhaul her somehow," said Bertric, "or we are left. This
is an uncanny affair."
The height of her great square sail told, and little by little she
drew ahead of us. We felt the want of the oars more at this time
than any, and I think that with them we might have overhauled her
at once. Had she been steered, of course she would have left us
astern without hope; but as we chased her now, the unsteady flaws
of the rising breeze, which we could make full use of, rather
hindered her. Now and again, with some little shift, her sail
flapped and she lost her way, and yawed so that we gained on her
fast, while a new hope of success sprang up in our minds. Then the
sail would fill again, and she was away from us.
Once, as the breeze veered a point or two, I thought she must have
jibed, for the clew of the sail almost swung inboard; but it filled
again.
"She cannot jibe," said Bertric. "See, her yard is braced square
for running, and cannot shift. If all holds, she must run till
doomsday thus. Her mast may go in a squall, or one of the braces
may part--but I don't see what else is to stop her."
But the wind was light, and hardly strained the new rigging, while
there was a stout running backstay set up with all care, and even
the main halliard had been led far aft to serve as another. She was
meant to run while she might, and that silent and lonely ship,
passing us on an endless voyage into the great westward ocean, was
as strange and uncanny a sight as a seaman could meet in a long
life. Moreover, though she was in full war trim, she seemed to have
some deck cargo piled amidships, which might be plunder.
So for an hour or more that chase went on. Once or twice we were a
full half-mile astern of her, and then gained with the chance of
the breeze. Once we might have thrown a line on board her, but had
none to heave. Then she gathered way and fled from us, even as we
thought we had her. It was just as if she knew that we chased her,
and would play with us. We almost lost heart at that time, for it
was sickening.
"The ship is bewitched," said Dalfin, and in truth we agreed with
him.
Why, and by whom, she had been set adrift thus, or what had
befallen her crew, we could not guess. Still, she was our only
hope, and we held on after her again. Neither Bertric nor myself
had the least thought of giving up, for we knew that the chances of
the breeze were all in our favour, so long as it came unsteadily as
now. And always, when it fell, we sculled fiercely and gained on
her, if only a little.
So another half hour passed, with its hopes and disappointments,
and then we were flying down on her with a breeze of our own, when
the end came. The wind shifted and I met it, and that shift did all
for us. It reached the ship, and took the clew of the sail inboard,
shaking and thundering, while the sheets lashed to and fro across
the deck. Then somewhere those sheets jammed and held fast, and as
if the canvas had been flattened in of set purpose, she luffed,
until with a great clap of the sail against the mast, the whole of
her upper canvas was aback, and she was hove to helplessly. Maybe
she was a furlong from us at the moment, and Bertric shouted.
"We have her," I cried, "if only all holds!"
"She will gather stern way directly," said Bertric, with set teeth.
"Then she will fall off again, and the sheets will get adrift."
We flew down on her, but we had been tricked so often before that
we hardly dared to hope. Now we were close to her bows, and we
heard the great yard creaking and straining, and the dull flapping
of the loose canvas of both tack and clew which had blown inboard.
The ship lurched and staggered under the uneasy strain, but the
tackle held, and we had her. Bertric went to our halliards and
lowered the sail as I luffed alongside, and then Dalfin had gripped
the rail between two of the shining shields. There was no sea
beyond a harmless ripple as yet, and we dropped aft to where a
cleat was set for the boats on her quarter, and made fast.
Then as we looked at one another, there came to me as it were a
breath from my lost home in far-off Caithness, for a whiff of peat
smoke hung round us and was gone so quickly that I thought it
almost fancy. But Dalfin had smelt it also.
"There is a fire alight on board," he said. "I smelt the smoke.
That means food, and someone on board after all."
With that he shouted, but there was no answer. It would have been a
relief to me if some ship's dog had flown out and barked at us; but
all was silent, and that was uncanny here in the open sea, and on
such a ship.
"Well," said Bertric, "crew or no, we must go on board. No use in
waiting."
He swung himself up from the boat over the high gunwale, and then
gave me a hand, and together we hauled up Dalfin, and so stood and
stared at all we saw in wonder.
Everything was in perfect trim, and the ship was fitted as if for a
long cruise. She had two handsome boats, with carven gunwales and
stem and stern posts set on their chocks side by side amidships,
with their sails and oars in them. Under the gunwales on either
board were lashed the ship's oars, and with them two carved gangway
planks which seemed never to have been used. Every line and rope's
end was coiled down snugly, and every trace of shore litter had
been cleared from the white decks as if she had been a week at
least at sea, though we knew, from her course, that she could not
be more than a few hours out from the Norway coast. We had guessed
that she might have sailed at dawn.
But we wondered not so much at the trim of the ship, though that
puzzled us; just aft of the mast, and set against its foot, was the
pile we had taken for deck cargo, and the like of it I had never
seen. There had been built of heavy pine timbers, whose ends butted
against either gunwale below, and rose to a ridge pole above, a
pent house, as it were, which stood at the ridge some six feet high
from the deck, and was about two fathoms long. Its end was closed
with timbers also, and against this end, and round, and partly over
the roof, had been piled fagots of brushwood, so that it was almost
covered. Either from haste, or else loosened by the movement of the
ship, one or two of these fagots had not found a place with the
rest, but lay on the deck by the boats. As if to keep the pile
steady, on either side had been set a handsomely carved sledge, and
on the pile at the end was a light wagon, also carved, and with
bright bronze fittings. The wheels had been taken off and set
inside it. Under the piles showed a barrel or two, which it was
plain were tar barrels.
"Firewood for a long sea passage," I said. "And sledges and wagon
for a land journey at its end. One would say that the ship was
flitting a whole family to Iceland--the new land to which men go
today."
"Aye, I have heard of that land, and of families who go there,"
said Bertric. "That seems to explain some things, but not why the
ship is adrift."
"What will be in the house yonder?" asked Dalfin.
"Maybe it was built for the women of the family," I said.
Now, this was so likely that for the moment the wonder passed. We
had to tend ship while the breeze held off if we would do anything
with her presently. She was not of the largest build, but both
Bertric and I knew that it would be all that we three could do, one
of us being a landsman moreover, to handle her if it came on to
blow at all freshly.
Now, I would not have it thought that we three castaways were much
in the mind to puzzle over the ship which we had gained, almost
against hope. It was enough for us to rejoice in the feel of firm
planks under our feet once more, and to find naught terrible, but
promise of all we needed, while the strain of the longboat voyage
with its ever-present peril was over. Dalfin broke that first short
silence.
"I am desperately hungry," he said. "Surely there will be food on
board?"
The breeze freshened up again, and the sail flattened against the
mast with a clap, and the ship quivered. It was naught to us, but
it made the landsman start and look upward as if expecting to see
somewhat carried away, while I laughed at him.
"Work first and food afterward," said Bertric. "We must tend ship
while wind is little, if at all. Why, we are not more than half
starved yet, for barley bread stands by one nobly."
"Give me somewhat to do, and maybe I shall forget the hunger,"
Dalfin answered ruefully. "Which of you two is to be captain?"
"Bertric," I said at once. "That is his place by all right."
"It is an old trade of mine," the Saxon said quietly "Well, it is
to be seen if I can justify my sayings of myself."
The sun had set by the time we boarded the ship, but we had not
noticed it in the bright twilight. The short northern night would
be no darker than now until the sunrising, for we were close on
midsummer, and there was every sign of settled fair weather after
the gale. Even now the last breeze was dying away, leaving the sea
bright and unruffled under the glow in the northwest sky. It was
only to be hoped that presently some summer breeze might suffer us
to lay our course southward or eastward, toward the land where we
might find haven and help.
Now Bertric set us to work, and we had little or no trouble, for
the breeze fell altogether very quickly. The sheet had fouled the
great cleat which was bolted to the deck beams amidships aft for
the backstay, and that was easily cleared. Then we swung the yard
fore and aft, Dalfin hauling as he was bidden, with fixed intent to
haul till further orders, which was all we needed from him. Then
Bertric would have two reefs taken in, for we could not tell what
weather we might meet, or for how long we might have to stay on
board without help. The foot of the sail was wet, as with heavy
rain.
"We can take no chances," he said. "Yet it is likely that we shall
have a ship or two in chase of us shortly. It is a wonder to me
that we have seen none yet. But word will go along the coast of what
has happened. It is not the first time that a carelessly-moored
vessel has got adrift in a calm, and found a breeze for herself,
while her sail was hoisted to dry in the sun."
Now, all we had to do was to carry forward the tack and set it up
for reaching, and to do that we had to climb over the fagots at the
foot of the penthouse, and the gunwale end of the timbers they
rested on, the run of the deck being blocked altogether by the
pile. Seeing that when the ship was to be put about the square sail
had to be lowered, brought aft round the mast and rehoisted on the
other board, the unhandiness of the thing was terribly unseamanlike.
Bertric and I grumbled and wondered at it the while we worked, only
hoping that by some stroke of luck we might be able to reach a haven
without having to shift the sail. It was to the starboard of the
mast now, which would serve us well if the wind came from east or
north, as was most likely.
Maybe that was an hour's work, and we had done all we might. By
that time the breeze had altogether gone, and the ship floated idly
on still, bright water, with the hush of the night round us. There
was time to tow her head round when we knew whence the morning wind
would blow.
Bertric coiled down the fall of the tack purchase, and nodded to
Dalfin. "Food now, if there is to be any," he said. "What is in yon
kettle?"
Now that we were forward we had seen that against this end of the
penthouse no fagots had been piled. The red and white striped
awnings of the decks were set there, carefully rolled up round
their carved supports, and they rested on a stout sea bedstead,
such as might be carried on board for the chief to whom the ship
belonged. Two more chests stood at the head and foot of this
bedstead, and they were carved, as indeed was the bed. It was plain
that all the gear on board belonged to some great house.
But six or eight feet forward of these things, and in the midst of
a clear space of deck, was a shallow square box full of sand, and
on that was set the covered kettle of which our comrade spoke. The
sandbox was that on which a fire might be lighted at sea if need
were, but none had been used on it as yet. Hard by were two casks
lashed to ringbolts on deck, one of which was covered, and the
other had a spigot in it. They held oatcake in one, and water in
the other, as perhaps one might have expected, here where the men
of the crew would gather forward. And the kettle was full of boiled
meat, which was maybe the most welcome sight to us that we could
have looked on. For, if we had managed to forget it, we were
famished.
So then and there we made a royal meal, asking not at all what the
meat might be, only knowing that it was good, thanks to the unknown
hands which had made it ready. There was enough in that great sea
cauldron for two more such meals as this, and the oatcake barrel
was full. We had no fear of hunger again for a time, and if there
was no more to be found by the time this store was ended, we should
surely have found haven or help in some way, most likely by the
coming of some ship in search with the morning at latest.
Now, as I sat on the deck and ate, once and again came to me that
sharp smell of peat smoke, and at last I spoke of it, asking if the
others had not smelt it.
"I smell somewhat strange to me," said Bertric. "It is a pleasant
smell enough. What is amiss with it?"
"What, do your folk in England use no peat?" said Dalfin in
surprise. "Why, we should hardly know how to make a fire without
it. It is peat smoke you smell."
"Why, then, there must be fire somewhere!" said Bertric, leaping
up.
"Smouldering peat, certainly," I said, rising with him. "Under yon
fagots is the only place I can think of as possible--or under the
deck planking."
We went to the penthouse, and climbed on the piles of fagots on the
port side. When we trimmed sail afresh we had hauled it along the
starboard, and had at least smelt nothing of the smoke there. But
now we set to work and hove the fagots overboard, setting the
handsome sledge from off them forward out of the way. The peat
smoke grew stronger as we lowered the pile, and at last a little
cloud of blue smoke came up to us.
"No hurry," said I to Bertric, who was anxious, "there is no wind
to fan the turfs into flame. It can but smoulder slowly."
"It is here," cried Dalfin, lifting a fagot whose under side was
scorched and blackened, though more by heat and smoke than flame.
Under that was a bushel or so of peat, the midst of which was but a
black hollow, round the sides of which the fire glowed red, only
waiting for the wind to fan it into life. The turfs blazed a little
in the draught as we cast them overboard quickly. Then we sent all
the fagots on that side after them.
"This is no chance," I said. "There may be more yet. We must get
all this lumber cleared."
It had been the same on the other side of the pile, but the peat
was cold and dead, not having burned so long. Then we moved the
wagon from the after end of the penthouse, and cleared that. Here
again was peat, and more of it, and it had been lighted, and had
only been out for a short time. Some of the turfs may still have
had fire within them, but we did not wait to see. And all the while
as we worked at this strange task, I wondered what the meaning of
it all was.
The last fagot went overboard, and Bertric rose up and looked at
me. His face was white as with some fear, and he stepped backward
away from the penthouse aft.
"Comrades," he said, "why did they want to burn this ship? She is
not burnt, only because as she ran in the light breeze there was no
wind to set the peat aflame. They meant her to burn when she was in
the open sea--when the spark they set in the turf should have had
time to grow to flame, and fire the brushwood. Look at those two
tar barrels set handy."
"Aye," I said, for all this had been growing on me. "They meant her
to run far from shore before her rigging went. That is why the
halliards have been brought aft, out of the way of the flame."
"And why the sail was wet," said Dalfin. "And maybe why we are not
chased."
"It comes into my mind," said Bertric slowly, "that there has been
pestilence on board, and that they would rid themselves of it."
But I hardly noted what he said. There had come to me, of a sudden,
the memory of old tales of the ways of my Norse forefathers, and
the certainty of what that penthouse might hold flashed on me. Many
a time I had heard how in long ago days men would set the body of
their dead chief afloat in his favourite ship, with all his
treasure and war gear, and all else that a chief might need in
Asgard; and so light his balefire on board, and let him pass to a
sea grave beyond the ken of men in strange magnificence. For we of
the old faith hold that what a man buries in life, or takes with
him to the grave in death, is his to enjoy in the hall of Odin when
he comes thither. It was the ancient way, and a wonderful one--the
way of the Asir with the dead Baldur.
Yet I had ever been told that the custom was long past, and that
such a sea and fire burial was unheard of now. It was only the
finding of the half-dead fire which minded me of it; for that which
we had thought of a family flitting across the seas to Iceland--the
sail, wet with the thunder rain of yesterday, spread to dry, and
then the coming over the hills of the cast wind suddenly, setting
the carelessly-moored ship adrift from some westward-looking haven,
where lay no other craft which could follow her, had been quite
enough to account for the wandering vessel.
Now I knew that only one thing would account for the purposeful
firing of the ship. Yonder lay some mighty chief--and as I thought
of that I clutched Bertric's arm and pointed.
"Not the pestilence, comrade," I said; "but what lies in yonder
penthouse."
"What should be there?" he asked, wondering, for my voice was
unsteady.
"We have boarded the funeral ship of some chief," I said. "He lies
shut in that chamber with his treasures round him."
"To be burned in his ship at sea," said Bertric quietly. "Well, a
Viking might find a less fitting funeral. Truly, it seems as if you
may be right, and we must needs see if so it is."
Now Dalfin had listened, crossing himself once or twice, and he
nodded.
"I like it not at all," he said; "but we must see what is yonder,
and if Malcolm is right."
It was strange to me that these two showed no fear of him who
doubtless lay there, in the chamber which his men had made for him.
We hold that the one who dares open the grave chamber is the
hardiest of men, running most fearsome risk from the wrath of the
dead hero. For, if aught will bring back the life to a warrior who
has died, it will be that one should set hands on his war gear. And
we hold that the ghost of a man hides near his body for many days,
and therefore see that at hand is set the food that may be needful
if the ghost hungers and will come back for a space to eat. Else he
may wander forth, troll-like and terrible, to seek what he needs.
I think that it is no wonder if I feared, having been taught all
this. But my comrades were Christians, and on them was no fear of
the quiet dead; but only an awe, and reverence. But of that I knew
naught.
"Why must we open the house?" I said. "It is as if we courted the
wrath of the chief. I have been told of men who would try to win
the treasure from a mound where one was buried, and died with fear
of what he met with there."
"Such an one deserved it," said Bertric quietly; "but we seek no
treasure, nor would rob the dead. No doubt the wrath of Heaven lies
hard on one who does so. Yet all this time we do not know if we are
right or not."
"Let it be," said I.
"I do not think that we should," Dalfin said. "For if you are
right--and you are a Norseman, and know--while it seems about the
only possible reading of what has puzzled us--then we must needs
sail to the Norway shore that the men of the chief may know what
has happened, and either lay him in mound, or see this better
carried out."
"Aye," said Bertric, "Dalfin is right. By chance we have been set
in charge of this ship--maybe not at all by chance--that we may see
honour done at last. Maybe we cannot make for Norway when the wind
comes. If not, we must plan otherwise. Come, I cannot rest till I
know."
But I held him back, making no secret of my fears.
"We shall have to reckon with the wrath of the hero," I said. "It
will be terrible--and we know not what may happen."
At that Dalfin stared at me; but Bertric, who had seen other lands
and knew the ways of men, smiled and set his hand on my arm.
"I do not fear him," he said. "It is impossible that if a chief
lies there he can be wroth with men who will do naught but honour
him. Think--is there any honour to the mighty dead that he should
wander across the lone sea thus, as we met him?"
I knew that he was right, and did not gainsay him. After all, we
were sure to have looked into that chamber presently, and to have
found what I feared--suddenly and unexpectedly--would have been
worse. So I set my fears aside as best I could, and went forward
with them both to the end of the house, in which we had seen no
sign of door. I thought that perhaps the upright timbers which
closed the end might be loose; but they were nailed to the roof
beam, against which they were set too firmly for us to move them,
and we must look for some axe or other tool.
"One of the chests forward is the ship's carpenter's," said Dalfin.
"I opened it when we sought for food just now."
He slipped round the house and came back with a heavy hammer and a
broad chisel. Bertric took them, and prised away the upper end of
the midmost timber without any trouble. Then he drew it toward him,
and the lower end wrenched free at once, for the nails that held
this building which was to be burnt were not long. And while he did
this, he stood on one side, that he might not pry into the chamber
idly, as it were, while Dalfin and I could see nothing from where
we stood. Only a little peat smoke seemed to come out gently when
the timber had gone.
It did but need that two more timbers should be moved thus, and
there was room enough for a man to pass through. Then Bertric set
down the hammer, and took off his rough sea cap, smiling a little,
yet with grave eyes, and so looked in. Dalfin pressed close to him,
but I stood aside still.
"The place is full of the peat smoke. I can see nothing," Dalfin
said.
"Somewhat white on the floor," said Bertric; "but we block the
light."
He stood aside, and the shadowless brightness shone across the
chamber through the thinning peat smoke. I saw him start a little,
and Dalfin signed himself with his holy sign once or twice. Then I
must look also, almost in spite of myself, and I went forward
quietly.