For awhile Leif’s gaze rested upon him absently, as though the press of other matters had entirely swept him out of mind.  Presently, however, his brows began to knit themselves above his hawk nose.

“Tell those who ask, that you were kept on board because a strong-minded and faithful watchman was needed there,” he answered curtly, and turned his back upon him.

Robert the Fearless was standing at the side, gazing eagerly toward the shore.  As though suddenly reminded of his existence, the chief stopped behind him and touched him on the shoulder.

“The Norman is as much too modest as his friend is too bold,” he said, with a note of his occasional courtliness.  “A man who has thought it worth while to travel so far is certainly entitled to a share in every experience.  Let Robert Sans-Peur go down and take the place that is his right.”

As the boat bounded away with the Fearless One on the last bench, Sigurd’s face was a study.  Between mortification and amusement, it was so convulsed that Rolf, who shared the Norman’s seat, could not restrain his soft laughter.

“Whether or not the Silver-Tongued has given his luck to you, it is seen that he has none left for himself,” he laughed into his companion’s ear.

The Norman bent to his oar with a petulant force that drove it deep into the water and far out of stroke.

“Whether or not he has any left for himself, it is certain that he has given none of it to me,” he muttered.  “Here are we at our second landing, and no chance have I had yet to endanger my life for the chief.  Nor do I see any reason for expecting favorable prospects in this tame-appearing land.  Is it of any use to hope for wild beasts here?”

The Wrestler regarded him over his shoulder with amused eyes.  “Is it your opinion that Leif Ericsson needs your protection against wild beasts?” he inquired.

Under the Norman’s swarthy complexion, Alwin of England suddenly flushed.  When a wish is rooted in one’s very heart, it is difficult to get far enough away to see it in its true proportions.

The cliffs of gleaming silver faded, on the boat’s approach, into gullied bluffs of weather-beaten sand; but the white beach that met the water, and the green thickets that covered the heights, remained fair and inviting.  No fear of dark omens along that shining sand; no danger of evil spirits in that sunlit wood.  All was pure and bright and fresh from the hand of God.  In place of a spur, the explorers needed a rein,—­and a tight one.  But for the chief’s authority, they would have spread themselves over the place like birds’-nesting boys.

“Ye know no more moderation than swine,” Leif said sternly, checking their rush to obey the beckoning of the myriad of leafy hands.  “And ye are as witless as children, besides.  Have ye not learned yet that cold steel often lies hid under a fair tunic?  We will divide into two bands, as we did at our first landing; and I forbid that any man shall separate himself from his party, for any reason whatsoever.”