CHAPTER NINE.
THE FIRST NIGHT IN VINLAND.
The prize which had thus fallen into the hands of the Norsemen was ofgreat importance, because it furnished a large supply of food, whichthus enabled them to go leisurely to work in establishing themselves,instead of, as would otherwise have been the case, spending much oftheir time and energy in procuring that necessity of life by hunting andfishing.
It was also exceedingly fortunate that the whale had been killed alittle before the time of high water, because that enabled them tofasten ropes through its nose and row with it still farther in to theshore. This accomplished, the boats made several trips back to the shipand landed all the men, and these, with a number of ropes, hauled up thecarcase foot by foot as the tide rose. After reaching a certain pointat high water they could get it up no farther, and when the tide turnedall the men twice doubled could not have budged it an inch. The ropeswere therefore tied together and lengthened until they reached a strongtree near the beach, to which they were fastened.
Leaving their prize thus secured they hastened back to the ship, hauledup the anchor, and made for the mouth of the river, but they had lost somuch of the flood-tide, in consequence of their battle with the whale,and the evening was so far advanced, that they resolved to delay furtherproceedings until the following day.
The ship was therefore hauled close in to the land at the river's mouthand allowed to take the ground on a spit of sand. Here the men landedand soon built up a pile of stones, between which and the ship a gangwaywas made. The women were thus enabled to walk comfortably ashore. Andhere, on a grassy spot, they pitched their tents for the first time inVinland.
Provisions were now brought on shore and large fires were kindled whichblazed up and glared magnificently as the night drew on, rendering thespit of sand with the grassy knoll in the centre of it quite a cheerfuland ruddy spot. A few trees were cut down and stretched across the spitat its neck on the land side, and there several sentinels were placed asa precaution--for which there seemed little occasion.
Karlsefin then set up a pole with a flag on it and took formalpossession of this new land, after which the whole colony sat down onthe grass--some under the tents, others under the starry sky--to supper.The cattle, it may here be noted, were not landed at this place, asthey were to be taken up the river next day, but their spirits wererefreshed with a good supply of new-mown grass, so that it is to behoped, and presumed, they rejoiced not less than their human companionsin the satisfactory state of things.
In the largest tent, Karlsefin, Biarne, Thorward, Gudrid, Freydissa,Astrid, and Olaf, sat down to a sumptuous repast of dried Greenland-fishand fresh Vinland-whale, besides which they had soup and beer. Beinghealthy and hungry, they did full justice to the good things. Berthaand Thora served and then joined in the repast.
"This is pleasant, isn't it, Freydissa?" asked Biarne, with his mouthfull.
Freydissa, with her mouth not quite so full, admitted that it was, forshe happened to be in an amiable humour--as well she might!
"Come, let us pledge the new land in a can of beer," cried Biarne,pouring the beverage out of an earthenware jar into a squat old Norseflagon of embossed silver. "Thorward, fill up!"
"I will join you heartily in that," cried Thorward, suiting the actionto the word.
"And I," said Karlsefin, raising an empty flagon to his lips, "willpledge it in a wish. I wish--prosperity to Vinland!"
"Come, Karlsefin," remonstrated Biarne, "forego austerity for once, anddrink."
"Not I," returned the skipper, with a laugh.
"Wherefore not?"
"First, because a wish is quite as potent as a drink in that respect;second, because our beer is nearly finished, and we have not yet themeans to concoct more, so that it were ill-advised to rob _you_, Biarne,by helping to consume that which I do not like; and, last of all, Ithink it a happy occasion this in which to forswear beer altogether!"
"Have thy way," said Biarne, helping himself to another whale-steak oflarge dimensions. "You are too good a fellow to quarrel with on suchtrifling ground. Here, pass the jar, Thorward; I will drink his portionas well as my own."
"And I will join you both," cried little Olaf with a comical turn of hiseyebrows. "Here, I wish prosperity to Vinland, and drink it, too, inwater."
"We can all join thee in that, Olaf," said Gudrid I with an approvingnod and laugh. "Come, girls, fill up your cups and pledge to Vinland."
"Stop!" shouted Biarne in sudden anxiety.
They all paused with the cups half-way to their lips.
"_You_ must not drink, Freydissa," he continued seriously. "Gudrid didcall upon the _girls_ to join her: surely ye don't--"
He was cut short by Freydissa throwing her cup of water in his face.
With a burst of laughter Biarne fell backwards, and, partly to avoid thedeluge, partly for fun, rolled out of the tent, when he got up and driedhis dripping beard.
"No more of that, fair girl, I beseech thee," he said, resuming hisplace and occupation. "I will not again offend--if thou wilt not againmisunderstand!"
Freydissa made no reply to this, silence being her usual method ofshowing that she condescended to be in good humour--and they were allvery merry over their evening meal. From the noise and laughter andsongs around them, it was evident that the rest of the company wereenjoying their first night on shore to the full, insomuch that Olaf wasled, in the height of his glee, to express a wish that they could livein that free-and-easy fashion for ever.
"'Tis of no use wishing it," observed Karlsefin; "if you would insuresuccess you must, according to Biarne, drink it in beer."
"I cry you mercy, skipper," said Biarne; "if you persecute me thus Ishall not be able to drink any more to-night. Hand me the jar,Thorward, and let me drink again before I come to that pass."
"Hark!" exclaimed Gudrid, "there must be something going to happen, forall the men have become suddenly quiet."
They listened intently for a moment or two, when Krake's voice broke thedeep silence:--"Come, now, don't think so long about it, as if ye werecomposing something new. Every one knows, sure, that it's about sweetScotland you're going to sing."
"Right, Krake, right," replied a rich deep voice, which it required nosight to tell belonged to Hake, the young Scot; "but there are manysongs about sweet Scotland, and I am uncertain which to choose."
"Let it be lively," said Krake.
"No, no, no," chorussed some of the men; "let it be slow and sad."
"Well well," laughed the half-Irishman--as he was fond of stylinghimself--"have it your own way. If ye won't be glad, by all means besad."
A moment after, Hake's manly tones rose on the still air like the soundof an organ, while he sang one of the ancient airs of his native land,wherein, like the same airs of modern days, were sounded the praises ofScotland's heather hills and brawling burns--her bonny daughters and herstalwart sons.
To those in the large tent who had listened, with breathless attentionand heads half averted, it was evident that song, sentiments, and singerwere highly appreciated, from the burst of hearty applause at theconclusion, and the eager demand for another ditty. But Hake protestedthat his ruling motto was "fair play," and that the songs must circleround.
"So let it be," cried Swend.--"Krake, it is your turn next."
"I won't keep ye waiting," said that worthy, "though I might do it, too,if I was to put off time selecting from the songs of old Ireland, forit's endless they are--and in great variety. Sure, I could give yesongs about hills and streams that are superior to Scotland's burns andbraes any day--almost up to those of Gamle Norge if they were a bithigher--the hills I mean, not the songs, which are too high already fora man with a low voice--and I could sing ye a lament that would make yeshed tears enough to wash us all off the spit of land here into the sea;but that's not in my way. I'm fond of a lively ditty, so here you are."
With that Krake struck up an air in which it was roundly asserted thatIreland was the fine
st country in the world (except Iceland, as hestopped in his song to remark); that Irish boys and girls lived in astate of perpetual hilarity and good-will, and that the boys displayedthis amiable and pleasant condition chiefly in the way of kissing thegirls and cracking each other's crowns.
After that, Swend was called on to sing, which he did of Norway withtremendous enthusiasm and noise but little melody. Then another mansang a love-ditty in a very gruff voice and much out of tune, which,nevertheless, to the man's evident satisfaction, was laughinglyapplauded. After him a sentimental youth sang, in a sweet tenor voice,an Icelandic air, and then Tyrker was called on to do his part, butflatly refused to sing. He offered to tell a saga instead, however,which he did in such a manner that he made the sides of the Norsemenache with laughter--though, to say truth, they laughed more at theteller than the tale.
Thus with song and saga they passed the first hours of the night, whilethe camp-fires blazed ruddily on their weather-beaten faces, and theheavenly constellations shone, not only on the surrounding landscape,but appeared to light up another world of cloudland beneath the surfaceof the sleeping sea.
At last Karlsefin went out to them.
"Now, lads," said he, "it is high time that you laid your heads on yourpillows. Men who do not sleep well cannot labour well. To-morrow wehave hard work before us in taking possession and settling our new home.God has prospered us thus far. We have made a good beginning inVinland. May it be the foretaste of a happy ending. Away, then, andget you to rest before the night is older, and let your sleep be sound,for I will see to it that the sentinels posted round the camp arevigilant."
The men received this brief speech with a murmur of willingacquiescence, and at once obeyed the order; though Krake observed thathe fell in with the custom merely out of respect to the opinions of hiscomrades, having himself long ago learned to do without sleep inIreland, where the lads were in the habit of working--or fighting--allday, dancing all night, and going home with the girls in the morning!Each Norseman then sought a spot upon the grassy knoll suited to histaste; used his arm, or a hillock, or stone, for a pillow, or anythingelse that came conveniently to hand, and with his sword or axe besidehim, and his shield above him as a coverlet, courted repose, while thebright stars twinkled him to sleep, and the rippling wavelets on theshore discoursed his lullaby.
The Norsemen in the West Page 9