“I want you, Heika,” she continued, “to tell the story to my father.”
“Ay, sit down here, young man, and tell it me,” said Haraldson, in a tremulous voice. “I love to hear anything about Vinland, especially what pleases Bertha. Dear Bertha! I have become very frail since she went away—very frail; and it has been a weary time—a weary time. But come, tell me about the whale.”
“Gladly would I do that,” said Heika; “but I have business with your man Edwinsson—business which I want to put out of hands at once. But Hake will tell the story of the whale. He is a better sagaman than I.”
“Let Hake tell it, then,” returned the old man. “You will find Edwinsson somewhere about among my boats.”
Hake gladly sat down beside Bertha, and began the story of the whale, while his brother went down to the beach, where he found his friend.
“Edwinsson,” said Heika, after some conversation had passed between them, “you have a good boat near Leif’s wharf. Will you lend it to me?”
“Right willingly,” replied his friend.
“But I am bound on an excursion that may chance to end in the wreck of the boat,” said Heika. “Will you hold me responsible if I lose it?”
“’Twill be difficult to hold thee responsible,” returned Edwinsson, laughing, “if ye lose your life along with it. But that matters not. I gift thee the boat if thou wilt have it. I count it a small gift to the man who saved my life.”
“Thanks, Edwinsson—thanks. I accept the gift, and, if my venture is successful, I shall try to let you share the benefit in some way or other.”