by Henry Treece
The old man turned his eyes on him wearily and said, ‘Why are the sheep crying out? They are locked up warmly against the winter and have food enough.’
Thorgils answered, ‘You know what sheep are - even a shadow will frighten them.’
Leif smiled and said, ‘Aye, that is true. They are silly beasts, though we could not do without them.’
He fingered his sheepskin coverlet for a while, then said quite clearly, ‘Why do you sit with that great iron dirk across your knees? Lay it aside and sit in comfort, my son. You are in your own house, you are not in Vinland, waiting for Skraeling’s to break in. Lay the dirk aside, Thorgils, and be at ease.’
So Thorgils obeyed Leif and stood the dirk beside a coffer-chest, where he could reach it quickly.
Then Leif began to tell him the old story of how he had once sat beside King Olaf in the hall in Norway. He tried to remember the names of courtiers who had been there, but his memory failed him and he clucked with annoyance.
At last he looked across at Thorgils and said sharply, ‘You are not listening, my boy. No, you are not listening.’
Thorgils smiled at him starkly. ‘Yes, I am listening, Leif,’ he said. ‘I am listening very carefully indeed.’
But he did not tell the old man what he was listening for. He could not bring himself to tell Leif what was now lurking in the darkness at the other side of the barred door.
Afterword
In a way, this is quite a sad story, though it ended happily for Karlsefni and his family. He made a great profit from his cargo, and even sold the prow of his longship - which Tyrkir had carved from Vinland maple-wood. Gudrid became very popular with the Norwegian nobility, who all wanted to know what life was like at the other side of the world.
After a time they had another son, named Thorbjorn, and settled down on a prosperous farm in Iceland. When Karlsefni died at last, Snorri (the first white American) became a rich man and had a church built. Gudrid made a pilgrimage to Rome and later devoted herself to a religious life.
As for the settlements in Greenland which Eirik had founded - they gradually decayed. Intense cold set in and life became very wretched there. The Greenlanders could not get away to other places, nor could ships from Iceland and Norway reach them because of icebergs. Perhaps worst of all, the Eskimo came down, following the migrating seals, and either killed or enslaved the settlers. Those who survived suffered starvation and disease.
In 1492, the same year in which Columbus made his own discovery of America, a Papal Letter was written which said: ‘Greenland is said to be an island near the edge of the world. Its people have no bread, wine or oils. They live on dried fish and milk. Because of the ice that surrounds this island, no ship has sailed there for the last eighty years. No bishop or priest has visited that place for the same period of time.’
HENRY TREECE