But nobody wanted to stay there very long, and there seemed nothing better to do than to get back to the ship again and sail. Leif considered the timber that he saw of little worth to them. It was mostly small wood, and soft or of open texture.

They sailed, then, once more, with a fresh north-easterly wind blowing off the shore, and were two days at sea without sight of land. But then they made an island in the sea, and south of that saw the mainland, and a great frith striking up into it. There was no snow hereabouts, and the air was balmy and scented, blowing from the island. "Here," said Leif, "is a land worth visiting, I believe. Let us cast anchor in the lew of the island for the night; and to-morrow we will row up the frith yonder and see what we shall see." They found good holding-ground under the island, and then, as the light was good for several hours yet, launched the boat and rowed to the shore. The place lay peaceful in the level afternoon light, with trees softly rustling, and birds calling to each other from thickets. They wandered about, singing as they went, or calling to each other to see some new thing. Gradually the sun sank and the light began to draw in. One of them by chance stooped down and felt the grass. There was dew upon it. He put his finger into his mouth; and then he said, "This is a holy place. The dew tastes sweet." They all tried it that were there, and believed it. This filled them with wonder, and some of them walked about on tiptoe, as if they had no business to be there.

They slept on board ship, and in the morning very early found that the tide had gone down and that she lay on her side, high and dry. The tide went back so far that it was possible to walk from the island to the mainland. As for the frith, it had shrunk to a dribble of water. But all this made no matter, so eager were they to savour the country which was heralded by so fair an island. They jumped off the ship's side on to the sand, which was firm and white, and ran to shore, and up the frith, where the going was easy for a mile or two. They found that it issued from a great lake, many miles in length, and many in width. It was shallow at the edges, but in the midst looked to be deep enough. On the shores of this lake were fine trees growing, of such wood as none of them had ever seen before; flowers, shrubs, birds were alike new to them. In the pools of the river left by the tide they saw great fish lying, which Leif thought were salmon.

They wandered about all the forenoon, and when it was time to eat something and they went back to the shore, the river was filling fast, and their ship was afloat. They hailed her, and saw one of the hands row off for them in the boat. Leif then said that they would tow up the river and cast anchor in the lake, and that was done when they had made their meal. They found good anchorage there and a snug berth out of all troubles of wind or water. Next day they took off all their stores, and pitched tents for themselves in a glade, for it was Leif's meaning that they should pass a winter there. He was very much in love with the country, and said that in all his travels he had never been in a place so little likely to be vexed by cruel weather. "In my belief," he said, "we should have no need to store fodder for the stock against the winter. It seems to me that there should be grazing here the year through—but we will prove that, if you are willing." Everybody agreed.

In a little time they had established order in their camp, for Leif was a strong and wise leader, a tall and fine man of wisdom and good manners, and all obeyed him cheerfully. Duties were assigned to the men in order; some were to fish, some to hunt—for they found deer as well as birds in plenty—and some to explore. Leif made a rule that no more than half his party should be away at one time, and that none should wander so far as that he could not win back by nightfall, nor separate himself from hail of the others who were with him. So the time wore on and the seasons changed. A mellow autumn gave way to a mild winter in which came no iron frost, and very little snow. If they had had cattle with them, as Leif had foretold, they could have kept them out all the winter. They found the light very different from Iceland or Greenland. On the shortest day they saw the sun between the afternoon meal and the day-meal. What puzzled Leif very much was this, that in so fair a country there was no sign of habitancy. They saw no men, nor any traces of men—and yet it was hardly to be believed that such a country was empty.

It was late in the autumn when a great discovery was made.

[1] York Powell and Vigfussen translate this as Shale or Slate-land; and Laing says that it is believed to have been Newfoundland.

[2] That is, Bush or Scrubland. Believed to be Nova Scotia, according to Laing.

XIV

It happened one day that Leif had not gone out with the exploring party, but was by the tents expecting it to come home. When the men returned late in the evening he saw at once that a man was missing, and a man, too, of whom he was very fond. His name was Dirk, and he came from the south—that is, from beyond the Baltic Sea, from some distant part of Germany which no Icelander had seen. Eric Red had found him in his younger days in Bremen and shipped him for a voyage. Dirk had made himself useful, and desired to remain in Iceland. When it became necessary for Eric to leave home, Dirk went with him to Greenland. So it was that Leif had known him since he was a boy, and that there was much love between them. Dirk was as ugly a man as there could well be in the world, short, bandy and mis-shapen, with a small flat face, high forehead, little eyes, no nose to speak of; but yet he was active and clever with his hands and feet. The men told Leif that they had not missed him before the call had gone about to assemble for the return. They had looked all ways for him—but no Dirk. They had called—no answer. There was nothing for it, since it was growing dark, but to go home.