“It is a fair land,” Sigurd agreed, absently.  And then for the first time Helga noticed the frown on his face, and some of the brightness faded from her own.

“Alas, comrade, you are brooding over the disfavor I have brought upon you!” she said, laying an affectionate hand upon his arm.  “I act in a thoughtless way when I forget it.”

Sigurd made a good-natured attempt to arouse himself.  “Do not let that trouble you, mamie_,” he said, lightly.  “When ill luck has it in her mind to reach a man, she will come in through a window if the door be closed.  It is a matter of little importance.”

He patted the hand on his arm and his smile became even mischievous.  “Still, I will not say anything against it if you wish to pay some forfeit,” he added.  “See,—­yonder Leif sits, playing with the bear cub while he waits for his breakfast.  Now, as he turns his eyes upon us, do you reach up and give me such an affectionate kiss as shall convince him forever that it was for love of me that you fled from Norway.”

A vigorous box on the ear was his answer; yet even before her cheeks cooled, Helga relented and turned back.

“Even your French foolishness I will overlook, for the sake of the misfortune I have been to you.  Take now a handful of these berries, and make the excuse that you wish to give them to the bear.  While you do so, speak to Leif strongly and tell him your wish.  That he is playing with the cub is a sign that he is in a good humor.”

Sigurd’s eyes wandered wistfully beyond the cook-fires and the storehouses to the last hut in the line, before which a dozen men were buckling on cloaks and arming themselves, in a bustle of joyful anticipation.  He thrust out his palm with sudden resolve.

“By Saint Michael, I will!  I had sworn that I would never entreat his leave again, but this time there is no one near enough to witness my shame if he refuses me.  There—­that is sufficient!  It is needful that I make haste:  yonder come Eyvind and Odd with the fish; Kark will not be long in cooking it.”

Carefully careless, he strolled past the open shed in which the new-found wheat was being stored, past the sleeping-house and a group of fellows mending nets, and came to the great maple-tree under which a rough bench had been placed.  There, like a Giant Thrym and his greyhounds, Leif sat stroking his mustache thoughtfully, while with his free hand he tousled the head of the camp pet.

Scenting dainties, the bear deserted his friend and shambled forward to meet the newcomer.  The chief raised his eyes and regarded his foster-son over his hand, seemingly with less sternness than usual.  Yet he did not look to be so blinded by good-nature that he would be unable to see through manoeuvring.  Sigurd decided to strike straight from the shoulder.

The cub, finding that the treat was not to be had in one delicious gulp, rose upon his haunches and threw open his jaws invitingly.  While he tossed the berries, one by one, between the white teeth, Sigurd spoke his mind.