The Norsemen in the West by Robert Michael Ballantyne (e reader pdf best .txt) 📖

I'll make ye out if it's in the power of man."

Thus adjured, the young savage opened his mouth wide, pointed with his finger down his throat, then up at the sky, spread both hands abroad in a vague manner, and exclaimed "ho!" as though to say, "that's plain enough, surely!"

"Oh, for shame! Is it eaten too much ye have? Is that what ye want to say?"

That was evidently not what he wanted to say, for the poor savage looked round with quite a disconsolate aspect.

"Come hither, Powlet," cried Biarne; "you're a smart boy; see if you can make the matter somewhat plainer."

Powlet at all events understood his name, and Biarne's beckoning finger, for he rose and went to him. Biarne confronted him with the young savage, and told the two to talk with each other by means of signs, which consisted in his touching the lips of both and thrusting their heads together.

The young savage smiled intelligently and spoke to Powlet, who thereupon turned to Biarne, and, rolling his eyes for a few seconds, uttered a low wail.

"Sure it isn't pains you're troubled with?" asked Krake, in a voice of pity.

"I do believe it must be that they refer to some one whom we have wounded during the fight," suggested Leif, "and that they think we have him concealed in the hamlet."

"It seems to me," said Thorward, "that if they were troubled about a wounded or missing comrade, they would have asked for him sooner."

"That is true," replied Leif. "I wish we knew what it is they would communicate, for they appear to be very anxious about it."

As he spoke, a tall savage, with an unusually grave countenance, stalked from among his fellows, thrust Powlet and the young man whom Krake had styled Bluenose aside, and seated himself on the ground in imitation of the free-and-easy manner of the Norsemen. Suddenly his face lighted up. He clapped both hands to his chest and breathed hard, then raised his hands aloft, looked enthusiastically up at the sky, rolled his eyes in a fearful manner, opened his mouth wide, and gave utterance to a series of indescribable howls. Checking himself in the midst of one of these, he suddenly resumed his grave aspect, looked straight at Krake, and said "Ho!"

That he thought he had hit the mark, and conveyed the meaning of himself and his friends precisely, was made evident by the other savages, who nodded their heads emphatically, and exclaimed "Ho!" with earnestness.

"H'm! 'tis easy to say `Ho!'" replied Krake, more perplexed than ever, "and if `Ho' would be a satisfactory answer, I'd give ye as much as ye liked of that; but I can't make head or tail of what it is ye would be at."

"Stay," exclaimed Hake, stepping quickly forward, "I think I know what they want."

Saying this, he looked earnestly at the grave savage, and ran over one or two notes of a song.

No words in any language could convey such a powerful meaning as did the beam of intelligence and delight which overspread the faces of these sons of the wilderness. The "ho! ho! hos!" and noddings were repeated with such energy, that Krake advised them to "stop that, lest their heads should come off altogether!"

"I thought so," said Hake, turning away from them; "they want you to give them a song, Krake."

"They shall have that, and welcome," cried the jovial Norseman, striking up the "Danish Kings" at once, with all the fire of his nature.

The natives sat in rapt solemnity, and when the Norsemen joined laughingly in the chorus, they allowed a faint smile to play for a moment on their faces, and murmured their satisfaction to each other when the song was done. But it was evident that they wanted something more, for they did not seem quite satisfied until one of their number rose, and going up to Hake touched his lips with his finger.

"Ha! I thought so!" exclaimed Krake in contempt. "It's bad taste ye have to want a song from _him_ after hearing _me_! But what else could we expect from ye?"

Hake willingly complied with their wish, and it then became evident that the savages had gained their point at last, for they listened with half-closed eyes, and more than half-opened mouths, while he was singing, and heaved a deep sigh when he had finished.

Thus pleasantly was the feast concluded, and thus they sealed their friendship.

But there was something still more satisfactory in store for the Norsemen, for it was soon afterwards discovered that the savages possessed a large quantity of beautiful furs, with which, of course, they were willing to part for the merest trifle, in the shape of a shred of brilliant cloth or an ornamental bauble.

This was not only fortunate, as affording an opportunity for the Norsemen to procure full and valuable cargoes for both their ships, but as creating a busy and interesting occupation, which would prevent the natives from growing weary of inaction, and, perhaps, falling into those forms of mischief which proverbially lie ready to idle hands.

"It seems to me, friends," said Leif one evening, shortly after the feast just described, while he was seated in the chief hall, polishing his iron headpiece, and occasionally watching the active hands of Gudrid and Thora as they busied themselves about domestic affairs, while Bertha sat beside him dandling Snorro on her knee,--"It seems to me that we have got together such a rich cargo that the sooner we send our ships to Greenland the better. They can then return with fresh supplies of such things as are needed in good time. For myself, I will go with the ships, and overlook the loading of them in Greenland."

"Oh! may I go with you?" exclaimed Bertha, looking up suddenly with much eagerness.

Hake, who was seated at the lower end of the hall, busily engaged in making a bow, paused abruptly in his work, but did not raise his head.

"I have no objection, if Freydissa has none," answered Leif.

"Freydissa will be only too glad to get rid of her," replied that amiable woman, who was engaged in the manufacture of a leathern tunic for Snorro; "she is tired of milk-and-water."

"And yet milk-and-water is more likely to agree with you than anything resembling beer," said Biarne, with a laugh.

"I should be sorry to leave Vinland," returned Bertha, "but I am very _very_ anxious to see my dear father again. Besides--I can return hither."

Hake's hand was suddenly released, and resumed its occupation.

"If you go, Leif," asked Karlsefin, "will you return and spend the winter with us?"

"I will not promise that," replied Leif with a smile.

There was silence for some minutes, which was broken at length by a very small voice saying:--

"'Norro go to G'eenland too?"

Poor Snorro was as regardless of the _S_ in his own name as he was of the _l_ in Olaf's!

"'Norro may go, if Gudrid will allow him," answered Leif, patting the child's curly pate.

"And O'af too?" added Snorro.

"Of course _I_ must go if Snorrie goes," cried Olaf who had just entered the hall. "We could not live separate--could we, Snorrie?" He caught up the child and placed him on his back in his wonted fashion. "Just think," he continued, "what would it do in Greenland without O'af to give it rides and take it out for long walks?"

"Ay, and go lost with it in the woods," added Biarne.

Olaf blushed, but replied promptly--"That would be impossible, Biarne, for there are no woods in Greenland."

"If Snorro goes so must I," said Thora. "He could not get on without his nurse."

"Methinks we had better all go together to Greenland," said Astrid, who was busy preparing supper.

"Not bad advice," observed Biarne, somewhat seriously.

"Do you mean what you say?" asked Karlsefin.

"I half mean it," replied Biarne.

There was a pause here. Karlsefin then said--"It seems to me, friends, that our minds are all jumping together. I have thought for a long time of leaving Vinland, for it is plain to me that as we stand just now we cannot make much headway. Many of our men are longing to get back to their families, some to their sweethearts, and some to their native land; while, from what you have said, it would seem that none of us are very anxious to remain."

"Do not speak for _all_," said Thorward.

"Well, dost _thou_ wish to stay?"

"It may be that I do. At any rate, we have had much trouble in coming hither and settling ourselves, and it would be a pity to lose all our labours unless we can't help it. There may be others of my way of thinking in the colony. It is my advice that before we discuss such a matter we had better call a Thing, [an assembly for discussion] and do it in an orderly way."

"By all means," said Karlsefin, "let us discuss the matter for _decision_ in a Thing; yet our discussing here for amusement is not disorderly."

After a little more conversation it was finally arranged that a Thing, or general assembly of the people, should be called on the following day, to discuss and decide on the propriety of forsaking Vinland and returning home.


CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.


THE FIRST CONGRESS AND THE LAST FAREWELL.

At the gathering of the Vinland colonists next day a number of able speeches were made by various individuals; for the Norsemen of old were accustomed to the free discussion of public affairs, at a time when nearly all Europe was crushed under the yoke of feudalism. Some of the speeches were humorous, and some had a good deal of sound about them without much weight of matter--a peculiarity, by the way, which marks many of the speeches made in the national and general assemblies of mankind in the present day, not less, perhaps rather more, than in the olden time.

All the men of the colony were entitled to raise their voices in the council except the thralls, so that the brothers Hake and Heika took no part in the discussion. These two therefore held a private confabulation of their own on the margin of the lake.

Thorward was among the first speakers at the assembly.

"It is my opinion," he said, in the tone of a man who expects to have his opinion opposed, "that we have not yet given Vinland a fair trial. We are only just beginning to discover the value of the land. Ye know now that it is not a small island, as was at first supposed, but a vast country of unknown extent. Who knows but that it may be as large as Norway? This lake and river on which we dwell do not owe their birth to an insignificant country; any man with half the vision of one eye remaining may see that! The woods supply all that man can desire; the waters swarm with fish; the climate is delightful; our ships are even now loaded to the bulwarks with costly furs, and the natives are friendly. What would ye more? It seems to me that we might, if we chose, lay the foundation of a new nation that would rival Iceland,