CHAPTER XXIII

A FAMILIAR BLADE IN A STRANGE SHEATH

“Now it is related that Bjarni Herjulfsson came from Greenland to Eirek Jarl, who received him well.  Bjarni described his voyage and the lands that he had seen.  People thought he had shown a lack of interest as he had nothing to tell about them, and he was somewhat blamed for it.  He became the Jarl’s hirdman and went to Greenland the following summer, Now there was much talk about land discoveries.” —­FLATEYJARBO’K.

The week after Gilli’s departure for Norway, Leif returned from his visit to Herjulf’s Cape, and made public his intention to take Biorn’s barren beginning and carry it out to a definite finish.  He brought with him three of the men of Biorn’s old crew, and also the same stanch little trading-vessel in which Herjulfsson had made his journey.  The ship-sheds upon the shore became at once the scene of endless overhauling and repairing.  Thorhild’s women laid aside their embroidering for the task of sail-making.  There began a ransacking of every hut on the commons and every fishing-station along the coast, for the latest improved hunting-gear and fishing-tackle; and day after day Tyrker rode among the farms, purchasing stores of grain and smoked meats.

As the old saga says:  “Now there was much talk about land discoveries.”  The Lucky One became the hero of the hour.  With all its stubbornness, Eric’s pride could not but be gratified.  He began to show signs of relenting.  Gradually he ceased to avert his face.  One day, he even worked himself up to making a gruff inquiry into their plans.

“If we return with great fame, it is likely his pleasure will reconcile him entirely,” Leif’s men chuckled to each other.

The diplomatic guardsman was quick to understand the change, but as usual, he went a step beyond their expectations.  The day after his father made this first advance, he invited him to inspect the exploring ship and advise them concerning her equipment.  While they stood upon the shore, admiring the coat of scarlet paint that was being laid upon her hull, he suddenly offered the Red One the leadership of the expedition.

Eric’s eyes caught fire, and his wiry old frame straightened and swelled with eagerness.  Then, though his eyes still sparkled, his chest sank like a pierced bladder.

“It is not possible for me to go.  I am too old, and less able to bear hardship than formerly.”

Rolf and the steersman, who had overheard the offer, exchanged glances of relief, and allowed themselves to breathe again.  But to their consternation, Leif did not take advantage of this loop-hole.  He argued and urged, until Eric drew in another long breath of excitement, until his aged muscles tingled and twitched with a spasm of youthful ardor, until at last, in a burst of almost hysterical enthusiasm, he accepted the offer.  In the warmth of his pleasure, he grasped his son’s hand and publicly received him back into his affections.  But at the moment, this was cold comfort for Leif’s followers.  They turned from their painting and hammering and polishing, to stare at their lord in amazed disapproval.  The instant the two chiefs had gone up from the shore, complaints broke out like explosions.