The Norsemen in the West | Page 4

which a frown mingled; "I
did but look upon the land--you went ashore and took possession."
"Well, if I did so I have not retained it," replied Leif, with a laugh; "but
say, how know you that this is Karlsefin's ship?"
"I know by the cut of her figure-head and the colour of her sails.
Karlsefin was always partial to stripes of white and blue."
"Well, it may be as you say; we shall soon know." Thus saying, Leif
descended to the beach as the vessels approached and ran their keels
straight on the sandy shores of the bay. There was great bustle on board,
and there were many men, besides some women, who could be seen
looking over the bulwarks with keen interest, while Leif's men brought
planks with which to make a gangway from the ship to the shore.
The ships which had thus come to Greenland were of the quaint build
peculiar to the Norse vessels of those days--a peculiarity of build, by
the way, which has not altogether disappeared, for to this day the great
central mast, huge square sail, and high prow may be seen in the fiords
of Norway.

Each of the vessels which now lay beached in Ericsfiord had a high
forecastle and poop, with figure-heads on stem and stern-posts that
towered higher still. The ships were only half-decked, with benches for
numerous rowers, and each had a crew of sixty men.
When the gangway was laid to the leading ship the first man who
descended to the shore was of striking appearance. It was not so much
that he was tall and strong enough to have been a worthy foeman to the
stoutest colonist in Ericsfiord, as that his demeanour was bland and
courtly, while there was great intellectuality in his dark handsome
countenance. Unlike most Norsemen, his hair and beard were black and
close-curling, and his costume, though simple, was rich in quality.
The moment he landed, Biarne stepped forward, exclaiming,
"Karlsefin!"
The stranger's face lighted up with surprise and pleasure.
"Biarne!" he said, seizing his hand, "I thought you were in Iceland."
"So I was, but now I am in Greenland, and right glad to be the first to
welcome my friend."
Hereupon the two shook hands fervently; but, not content with this,
they seized each other in an embrace, and their bearded mouths met
with a hearty masculine smack that did credit to their hearts, and which
it might have gratified the feelings of an affectionate walrus to behold.
CHAPTER TWO.
STRONG EMOTIONS ARE SUCCEEDED BY SUPPER, AND
FOLLOWED BY DISCUSSIONS ON DISCOVERY, WHICH END
IN A WILD ALARM!
When Karlsefin had been introduced to Leif Ericsson, the former
turned round and presented to him and Biarne his friend Thorward, the
captain of the other ship. Thorward was not a tall man, but was very
broad and stout, and had a firm yet pleasing cast of countenance. Both

Thorward and Karlsefin were men of about thirty-five years of age.
"Are you not on viking-cruise?" asked Leif as they walked up to the
house together, while the male members of his household and the men
of the settlement assisted the crews to moor the ships.
"No; my friend Thorward and I are not men of war. We prefer the
peaceful occupation of the merchant, and, to say truth, it is not
unprofitable."
"I would that more were of your way of thinking," said Leif. "I do not
love the bloody game of war, and glad am I that we have got into a
quiet corner here in Greenland, where there is small occasion for it.
Biarne, too, is of our way of thinking, as no doubt you already know."
"He has often told me so, and, if I mistake not, has feathered his nest
well by merchanting."
"He has," answered Biarne for himself, with a laugh.
While they thus advanced, talking, little Olaf had kept walking in front
of the tall stranger, looking up into his face with unbounded admiration.
He had never before seen any man so magnificent. His father and
Biarne, whom he had hitherto regarded as perfect specimens of
mankind, were quite eclipsed. Looking backward and walking forward
is an unsafe process at any time. So Olaf found it on the present
occasion, for he tripped over a stone and in falling hit his little nose
with such violence that it soon became a big nose, and bled profusely.
Karlsefin picked him up and set him on his legs. "My poor boy, don't
cry," he said.
"No fear of him crying," observed Leif; "he never cries,--save when his
feelings are hurt. When you touch these he is addicted to
blubbering.--Run, lad, and Gudrid will wash you."
Olaf bounded into the house, where he was carried off to a
sleeping-room