Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Vinland







   "This saga I had from Thorfinn Fairhair, who sailed with Leif the Lucky
when he was but a boy of sixteen summers.  Mighty were those men who
followed the whale's path to Vinland the Good.  Thorfinn is old now and in
his dotage but his eye still brightens and his sinews stiffen whenever this
story is told.  If it please you, Lords, I will recount the tale.



   Now it happened that there was a man of Eyrar, in Iceland, named Biarni
Heriulfson.  It was Biarni's habit to spend one season trading and the next
with his father, who had settled in Greenland with Erik the Red.  This one
year, the fourth of Olaf's reign, Biarni sailed from Eyrar bound for
Heriulfsness.  They had sailed but three days when the wind turned to the
north and clouds covered the sun.  Bitter was that wind and it blew
stouthearted Biarni beyond the ken of men.  Biarni's crew were much afraid
and neither the sunstone nor the sunshadow-board could help them.  This
Biarni was a man of valour and through those desolate days he stood by the
styri and guided them ever on, past mountains made of ice until, at length,
the welcome sun burst through once more and they could discover their
position.



   Biarni steered them ever westwards until they sighted land.  It was in
Biarni's mind to sail close to this land, which was much wooded, but they
saw no place to land.  He sailed onwards for another day and they
discovered another land with white beaches that promised fair, but this was
no more like Greenland than the first.  Biarni would not beach the knarr
nor allow his crew to go ashore for wood and water, both of which he had in
plenty.  Instead, he ordered them to turn their faces to the east and,
after several days of sailing and the finding of two more unknown lands,
came safe once more to Heriulfsness.  And thus it was that Leif Eriksson,
whom men now call 'the lucky,' first came to hear of that far off place
beyond the western sea...."



   Leif Eriksson stood on a bale of wool and raised his voice to carry to
the back of the crowd gathered in front of him.



   "As many of you know, I plan another voyage.  I have bought a knarr from
Biarni Heriulfson - that same knarr that Biarni sailed beyond where the sun
sets to a strange land.  It is in my mind to see that place and harvest
some of the timber Biarni saw growing in plenty.  Are there men among you
who would voyage with me?"



   The crowd murmured and a few questions were shouted.  Leif answered them
directly, in plain speech, for such is our way.  This was no call to go
a-viking with promises of plunder.  This was something new - a voyage of
exploration beyond the lore of sailing men.  There would be much danger and
no certainty of riches at the end.  It was just the sort of prospect to
fire my young heart with dreams of glory and sagas yet to come.  I was one
of the first to move and stand before our captain and swear the oath of
comradeship.



   My name is Thorfinn Hanarrsson, whom men call Fairhair; a Greenlander
born, for Hanarr, my father, was among those who first came here with Erik.
When I was but twelve summers, my father's ship was lost on a voyage to
Norway.  It was a drakkr, a long ship, not one of the fatter, trading
knarrs; it should have been mine, had he lived.  That same year my mother
succumbed to the winter sickness and I was alone in the world.  I could
have returned to my foster-father's hearth but I thought myself too much
the man.  I chose instead to go fishing and took my skiff in search of
codfish among the skerries that dot the sea around the coast hereabouts.  I
got to know each rock and reef and the way the tides set.  I ventured far
and wide in search of fish but had never been out of sight of land.  Now
Leif was offering the chance of a real voyage, I leapt at it like a
returning salmon.  I was young, had no family and yearned for the adventure
of it.



   From the first, Leif asked his famous father to be our leader.  Erik
pleaded his years weighed too heavy on him but Leif silvertongue talked him
round.  Now, as some of you know, the knarr is a trading ship with a high
freeboard and fixed mast.  It needs fewer men than a drakkr and has fewer
oars.  We only row a knarr in and out of port.  Nigh on ten hands of men
stepped forward to answer Leif's call but he chose only four and thirty to
be his companions.  We gathered together to haul the knarr onto the beach
and worked some days careening her and re-caulking the planks.  She was a
stout ship, Norway-built of strong pine with a mast and yard of finest
spruce.  From stem to stern she measured twenty-one paces and from keel to
tholepins she was a head higher than the tallest man.  She could ride the
sea anywhere it reached a man's waist and was fast enough under sail but a
devil to row, which a man must do standing, pacing forward twice on each
sweep, on account of her high freeboard.  Still, it made her a dry ship,
for which we would have cause to be grateful.

   By early summer all was prepared.  The knarr smelt of fresh pine and tar
and Leif had caused a new sail to be sewn from fine linen.  All was in
readiness and the day dawned when we were to leave upon our great
adventure. Leif rode over the hill to his father's steading at Brattahlid
to bring the great man to us and then set sail.  On the return, Erik's
horse stumbled and threw him.  The old man hurt his ankle and cried out to
Odin that he was not meant to voyage more but see his days out on the land.
Even Leif, who was a follower of the White Christ, could not ignore such
omens and thus it was Leif became our leader and five and thirty sailed
that day for the West.



   Leif had chosen me for my knowledge of the skerries and my keen sight. I
could spot a half-tide rock by the way the sea swirled and so I found
myself at the prow, guiding the knarr from port and out into the ocean. 
Leif himself took the styri and set our course - due west.  The sun shone
and the wind was light and out of the east so we made good time.  I
listened to the sea chuckling under the knarr's forefoot and sang in my
heart.  Gulls wheeled and shouted their harsh cries above us and two
porpoises kept station as we glided over the water.  All that day,
Greenland grew smaller in our wake until all we could descry were the very
mountaintops, gleaming white in the setting sun.  It was strange to see the
sun still upon them when all around us the night had fallen.  Leif said
this is because the world is curved like an upturned dish, but I know not.



   I don't believe I slept at all that first night.  The old salts bedded
down as soon as it grew dark but I was too excited.  I stood beside Snorri,
who had replaced Leif at the styri, and talked so much nonsense he gave me
a clout and bade me be silent.  I took it in good part, though, and even
relieved him of the steering when his head started to nod.  I was still
there when the sun came up.  The dawn is different at sea.  There is no
gradual transition from night to day, no mountains for the sun to hide
behind.  A golden glow lit the few clouds and then the sun appeared over
the horizon, striking fire from our wake.  I could not credit how swiftly
the sun climbed.  I held out my hand to cover it and it moved as I watched.
I vow it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.  Oh yes, I've been
up with the dawn many times to launch my skiff, but watching the sun crawl
its way over the mountains was never as thrilling as the first dawn at sea,
out of sight of land with only the grey-blue ocean all around us.



   We broke our fast and I was set to bailing.  No seas had come inboard in
that gentle lop, but we had taken on some water before the caulking grew
tight, as always happens at first.  By then I was tired to the bone and
could scarcely keep my eyes open but I had to wait for Leif to take the
noon sight.  He took up the sunshadow-board and measured where the shadow
fell at noon.  It was a mite longer than it had been when he took the sight
at Heriulfsness for we had drifted a little south during the night.  So we
altered course to west with a touch of north in it.



   I slept the afternoon away and the sun was low when I woke again.  The
wind had stiffened and there were whitecaps dusting the sea.  The knarr's
motion was stronger and now the water frothed and hissed at the planking as
we sped along.  The sky was still clear of clouds and the last of the gulls
had departed; we were quite alone.  I made my way to the prow once more and
stared ahead, straining my eyes against the glare for any sign of land.  Of
course there was none!  We were as far from any land as it is possible to
be.  It was then I saw one of the great crystal mountains that aren't
anchored land but drift about the ocean.  The falling sun had painted it
with rose and gold and I cried out in wonder, pointing to my comrades to
witness this strange miracle.  The older men had seen such bergs before,
but there were more than a few of us seeing the sight for the first time.
Leif altered course to take us closer in but we dare not venture too near.
More than one ship has found itself stranded on a shelf unseen below the
surface and suffered to be crushed by falling chunks of ice.



   Close to, the berg was not the brilliant white lent by distance, but
took on a greenish hue.  We could discern great boulders trapped within the
ice and it had a forbidding look.  If one part of that great berg showed
above the sea then we knew there were six parts below, so we steered well
clear and circled outside hailing distance before resuming our westward
path.  The berg receded in our wake and I, for one, was glad of it.  Leif
gave orders for a double watch that night lest we encounter more of the
floating monsters.  I took my turn at the prow but saw nothing in my shift.



   The next three days passed uneventfully, each followed the last in
procession.  The wind held steady and we kept our course, confirmed each
noon by the sunshadow-board.  Thus it was that on the sixth day, I was
bailing again when a great cry went up "Land!" I rushed to join the others
at the prow and there it was!  I thought at first there was some trick;
that we had gone full circle and returned to Greenland, for white mountains
rose on the horizon.  I soon saw my mistake, though.  This land was not as
great as Greenland.



   "I shall go one better than Biarni," said Leif.  "Make ready to land."



   We closed with the shore but saw no shelving beach to take our keel. 
Leif then ordered the after-boat launched and he went ashore with a few
picked men to survey the scene.  I was not one of those chosen and spent an
hour or two grinding my teeth in frustration.  When the captain returned we
weighed anchor and nosed our way coastwise.  Once more I was set to watch
for skerries and there were plenty to be seen.  Leif told us that the place
was inhospitable.  No grass grew and there was little to keep a man there.
It was a place of flat rocks and boulders as far as the eye could see. 
Inland rose great icy mountains, desolate and forbidding.  Leif said we
should call the place ' Helluland' - meaning 'land of stone.' I was glad
when we found its southern cape and slipped out into the ocean once more.



   The winds grew contrary then.  It was likely the shadow of Helluland
that caused it but we were constantly taken aback and made slow progress.
We tacked back and forth to make our westering while the bulk of the land
lay behind us all that day and the next.  Leif thought some tide impeded
our progress.  I searched the sea from dawn till dusk for hidden skerries
and more than once we had to alter course where I suspected some reef may
lurk beneath the surface.  It was there we saw a great number of whales -
more than there were crew upon our knarr.  They were heading south and I
marked their passage by their spoutings.



   Four days after leaving Helluland behind us, we once more sighted land.
This was a different place with thick woods girdling the rolling hills. 
Again Leif was loath to risk beaching the knarr and called away the
after-boat.  This time I was included in the crew and we rowed ashore.  It
felt strange to stand once more upon the land after so many days at sea. 
It seemed to me that the land rocked with a gentle motion and I almost fell
and cried out that the earth was moving under my feet.  The old hands
laughed at me and said it was always thus when first you step ashore.  We
spent an hour or two gathering firewood and refilled the water butts.  The
land was covered with a thick forest of spruce and pine and there was no
sign of any life beyond the seabirds.  Leif named this place 'Markland' for
the woods that were so abundant and determined we would anchor there that
day.  He set me to fishing in the afternoon and we feasted well that night,
sitting round our fire on the shore.



   We left Markland behind us and travelled on; another day and a night and
half a day more before we sighted yet a third land.  There we turned to the
south and followed the coast, looking for a place to beach our ship.  I was
at my position at the prow again but had many willing helpers looking out.
This land was the fairest by far.  We could make out birch and beech trees
and swathes of green grass and Leif expressed himself well pleased. 
Towards the evening, we sighted a white strand and carefully approached. 
We spotted a passage between an island and a cape and eased through in all
vigilance.  The passage opened out into a sheltered bay and there we made
our landing on a gently shelving beach of fine sand.  There was a river
mouth to the north of us and we later found this river debouched from a
pleasant lake.



   It was too late to do much that first night but the next day we began to
explore.  The river teemed with salmon and the grass along the banks was
lush and would be fine for cattle.  Later, when the tide had risen again,
we moved the knarr upriver and anchored in the lake.  It was there Leif
determined to make our camp and we unloaded the ship and set to making
bothies for our shelter.  That night as we dined on fresh salmon far bigger
than any I had ever seen, Leif rose and addresses us.



   "It seems to me that this is a fair place.  I propose to winter here and
will make this our steading.  Tomorrow we will raise a hall.  Are all
agreed?"



   We gave him our ready assent.  This was a fair land and we were happy to
be there.  So it was we came to raise the hall that would be our home for
the next few months.  Trees there were in abundance and reeds for thatch
grew deep around the lakeshore.  I took a hand axe and was given the task
of trimming the felled timber.  Some of the men wanted to explore but Leif
would have us build the hall first and contain our impatience.  He was a
big man and full of good humour and fair dealing so none complained.  He
had seen us safe thus far and we trusted to his luck.



   Over the next few days the great hall took shape and Leif named it
'Fellowship.' Once it was weatherproof, he divided the party into two.  One
group would remain and work on the hall while the other went exploring.



   "Stay together and do not venture so far that you can't get back by
sunset," Leif ordered.



   We took it turn and turn about, Leif also.  He did his share of work on
the hall.  Each night we would sit around the fire and tell of what we had
seen that day or listen to the telling.  It is our custom that every man
should have a voice, even one so young as me.  I told them how I had seen
the tracks of deer and bear within the forest and thought there was a place
by the lake where all came to drink.  We saw conies also and other animals
we couldn't name but which showed rich pelts.  Once or twice we heard
wolves but they didn't bother us and we never saw them.  The more we saw,
the fairer did the land seem to us and all agreed that this was a better
place for men to live than Greenland.



   Now there was among our party a man named Tyrker.  He was a German who
had been taken as a slave by Erik but grew to be a member of the household
and a companion to Leif in his boyhood.  This Tyrker was a small man with
dark eyes and a wizened face but was much beloved of Leif.  It happened
this day that when the explorers returned to camp, Tyrker was missing and
Leif was very angry.  He roused us all to go and search and we had gone out
from the camp but a little way when he appeared, waving his arms and
greatly excited.  He called out to us, but in the German tongue, such was
his agitation, and none could make sense of what he was shouting.  When we
came up with him he was grinning and capering like a madman and it took a
while before he calmed enough to make himself understood.



   "Vines!  And grapes!  I found them!  As good as any grape that grows in
Germany.  Come, look!"



   We followed the dancing little man and, sure enough, there was a little
valley full of vines, just as he said.  The grapes were tart and not yet
ripe but we gorged ourselves nonetheless, for this was a rare treat and few
had ever tasted the fruit before.  That night at the moot, Leif arose and
spoke to us:



   "I have been wondering for some days what we should call this place.  It
is now clear.  I name this land 'Vinland the Good' for the vines that grow
and the soft and gentle nature of the land."



   We all acclaimed this announcement many started to plan aloud for the
future: the bringing of families and cattle and the making of a settlement.
The talk went on late into the night and it was but an hour or two before
dawn when we retired at last.  I was awoken early by the gripes in my
stomach - too many unripe berries - and made my way in the clear light to
take care of things.  I had barely finished and cleaned myself when I saw
the skraeling.



   At first I thought my eyes played me false for he was there one instant
and gone the next.  Truth to tell, I was much afraid and could not be
certain that what I had so narrowly glimpsed was not a troll or dwarf. 
Then I saw him again and realised it was but a half-grown boy staring at me
with the same amazement I afforded him.  Once or twice on our explorations
men had reported the feeling of eyes upon them, but we had seen no trace of
any habitation nor any other sign of man.  Now I was confronted with the
living evidence.  The skraeling youth stared a while longer and then
vanished as silently as he appeared.  I ran back and roused the company. 
Few believed me.  Most said I had been dreaming still, but I led them back
to where the skraeling had appeared and, sure enough, there in the wet
grass were the clear footprints.  That caused the doubters to sing another
saga!



   Leif set a watch that day and the next and the explorers went armed, for
we didn't know what manner of men these skraelings might be, but there were
no further encounters for two days.  On the third day, I was in the camp
and cutting wood for the fire when there came a hail from one of the
sentries.  We ran to him and followed his pointing finger.  At the edge of
the clearing stood four or five men.  By their gestures we could tell they
asked for leave to approach and Snorri, who commanded in Leif's absence,
beckoned them forth.  They were unlike any men I have ever seen, before or
since.  They were clad in some sort of trews made from animal skin and went
bare above the waist.  They moved with a solemn dignity and approached us
cautiously but displayed no great fear - more curiosity.  They had flat
faces and long dark hair bound back from their faces with fillets of hide.
It was a warm day and many of us had shed our shirts.  The contrast was
obvious.  Their skin had a coppery hue and they were almost entirely
without body hair.



   One among us, a man named Ingolf but known as 'Bjorn,' meaning 'Bear,'
because he was so hairy, seemed to amaze them the most, and they pointed at
him and chattered among themselves in a tongue that none could recognise. I
looked at our men and tried to see them anew, through the eyes of these
strangers.  We made an odd picture.  Most of us had weathered arms and
faces but our torsos were white or even pink where the sun had begun to
burn us.  All of us were bearded after one fashion or another, even me,
whose cheeks and chin now sported a red fuzz even if my chest was still
innocent of manly growth.  Our visitors were all beardless with as
pronounced a lack of hair upon their cheeks as on the rest of their bodies.
Even their arms seemed naked.  We stood and gawped at each other for some
time.



   Two among the skraelings carried rough packs and these they placed on
the earth in front of us and opened to reveal a wealth of peltries.  By
gesture they intimated that they wished to trade these furs with us and
Snorri sent me back to the camp with orders to bring any spare tools.  We
had started a small forge in the steading to smelt bog-iron and we had made
some poor axe-heads, more by way of experiment than of necessity.  I
gathered up some half dozen of these and a badly made knife or two and
returned to the barter.  The skraelings were struck with great wonder by
these meagre tools.  It seemed they had no iron nor knew the working of
metal at all for they gasped and exclaimed and then bowed deeply to us
before withdrawing, leaving the bundles of furs for us.  They melted back
into the woods like ghosts and were gone before we knew it.



   This became the manner of our dealings with the skraelings.  They would
appear when they chose bearing bundles of peltries and take from us axe
heads and cheap knives and even ingots of the rough bog-iron that was
really too soft to make a serious tool or weapon.  Sometimes they would
bring a haunch of deer or a woven basket of fruit and, best of all, some
kind of large yellow grain that was a welcome addition to our larder. 
There was no pattern to it.  Sometimes they would come two days running and
at other times seven or more days would pass without us seeing them at all.
After a while we became convinced that, though only four or five would
approach, many more hid within the trees to observe proceedings and view
the hairy strangers from across the ocean.



   It fell out this way: I had gone a little way from the steading to bathe
in the lake and wash my smallclothes.  I finished my washing and spread it
all out over some low bushes to dry and whiled away the time with a little
swimming.  I had though myself entirely alone and will confess, I was
somewhat playing the fool, as young men will when their elders aren't
present to correct them.  So I splashed and dived and whooped with the joy
of a few moments' stolen freedom.  It was then I heard a giggle.  I cast
about but could see no one and decided I was imagining things, when the
skraeling girl appeared.  She approached me quite gaily, without a trace of
fear.  She wore some kind of shift of animal skins and her hair was dark
and straight and hung nearly to her waist.  Her face was broad with high
cheekbones and large dark eyes regarded me from under finely arched brows.
Naked though I was, her gaze was fixed on my hair.  It is very light in
colour and, with the bleaching of the sun, was almost white.  It is not for
nothing men call me Thorfinn Fairhair.  The hair on my chin and body is of
a pale red hue and it must have looked strange to this dark girl with her
fine copper skin and black hair.



   I made to cover my private parts with my hands and she giggled anew. 
She stood on the shore between me and my trews and laughed at me.  One leg
was thrust out in front and her hand was on her hip.  She looked at me with
her head to one side, like a farmer might appraise cattle and laughed
aloud, not a giggle this time, but a full-blown laugh.  White hair brings
also white skin but I felt myself flush scarlet under her gaze.  I mustered
what dignity I could and splashed out of the shallows, still covering my
manliness with one hand.  I grabbed a shirt and dried myself as swiftly as
I could before struggling into my trews.  It must have been quite a
performance for the skraeling girl was near tears with her mirth at my
expense.  It made me very angry and I shouted at her but that made her
laugh all the more and she put her hands over her face and peered at me
between her fingers.  She looked so comical I started to laugh as well and
soon the pair of us were whooping and cackling like magpies.



   Just at that moment, a noise came from within the woods.  It sounded to
me like a birdcall but she stiffened suddenly and a scared look came over
her.  She fluttered her hands by way of farewell and fled back into the
forest.  I was left alone to pick up my washing and amble back to the
steading.  I couldn't get the picture of her out of my head.  It was only
as she was leaving, fleeing for the edge of the clearing, that I really
noticed her long legs and lithe body.  She moved with the grace of a deer,
her flying feet silent on the grass.  It made me feel strange inside to
think of it, warm but unsettled at the same time.  I found myself praying
to the Gods that I would see her again.



   I didn't get my wish for almost another week.  I was at the river this
time and netting some salmon.  They really were huge fish, bigger even than
the codfish I caught around the skerries back home.  I didn't see her
arrive; she was suddenly at my side and watched me working with an intent
look on her face.  I hauled the net and spilled the silvery catch onto the
bank.  I took my hand-axe and knocked each one on the head with the back of
it.  I'd lost a few on an earlier trip when they had flopped and flapped
their way back into the water and wasn't taking that chance again.  Once I
had enough, I strung them together in bunches of four or five with twine
through the gills and cut myself a carrying pole of birch to hang them
from. The girl watched all the while, big-eyed.  On an impulse, I gave her
one of the bundles of salmon.  I had plenty and they were easy enough to
net if we needed more.  She backed away at first when I held the fish out
to her but, eyes on me all the while, she approached me carefully and took
them, keeping as far away as she possibly could and still be able to reach
the fish.



   I smiled at her then and stabbed a thumb against my chest.



   "Thorfinn," I told her my name, "Thorfinn."



   I gave her a quizzical look and indicated her with the same hand.  She
looked confused for a second and then brightened as she realised.  She
pointed at me and said "Torfi." Then she repeated it and gestured to
herself.  It sounded like "Meera - ha - nhee." I repeated it to her and she
shook her head.



   "Meera - ha - NHEE."



   I tried again and got closer to her way of saying it and she smiled. 
She put out a hand then and made as if to touch my hair.  I smiled back and
bent my head slightly so she could reach.  The touch of her fingers sent
tingles through me.  She had a wondering look on her face and muttered
something I couldn't understand or even guess at.  I put my hand towards
her hair but she shrank away with a nervous look and then laughed.  She
stooped swiftly to gather up the tied salmon I had given her and sped away.
Once more she made that fluttering gesture of farewell and I waved at her
retreating back, admiring the way her taut buttocks moved under her shift
as she trotted off.



   I don't really know why, but I never told any of my companions about my
encounters with the skraeling girl.  They were something special, to be
kept to myself and pulled from memory to pick over by the firelight when
other men talked of their families or boasted of the voyages they'd made. I
had no family and this was my first summer voyage.  All I had was the image
of a skraeling girl to remember.  But it was enough.



   The skraeling men still appeared occasionally to trade but there was
little real contact between us.  Leif spoke several tongues, even the
language of the Lapps, who most closely resembled the skraelings with their
broad faces and high cheekbones, but he wasn't understood and there was
nothing even remotely familiar or recognisable in the sounds they made. 
Still, the language of barter is universal and we made them understand that
we particularly wished for the large yellow grain, our store of oats being
long since exhausted.  For their part, they most coveted our long knives,
but Leif gave it out that none should be given to the skraelings and would
only offer axe-heads or belt knives.  They accepted this with difficulty.
We couldn't explain that the long knife is both our tool and our main
weapon.  The bog-iron was too poor a stuff to make a good long blade and
most weren't rich enough to own a sword.  Only Leif and Snorri owned swords
with runes carved deep into the blades.  Leif's sword was called
'Widow-maker' when first he had it but, when he had taken the White Christ,
he changed its name to 'Wise Judgement.' Snorri's was an older piece and
bore the name 'Leg-Biter,' a good name for a Viking's sword, and Snorri was
one of the old band of summer pirates.



   Greenland is not a rich place so most of the men went a-viking in the
season.  They would descend on Orkney or the coast of Hibernia and take
cattle and slaves and such gold or silver as they might find.  The priests
of the White Christ housed many treasures and were a favourite target for
some but, as more and more of the men abandoned the old Gods and became
Christian, so fewer were prepared to raid the churches and monasteries.  I
still followed Odin in those days, having no family to lead me elsewhere,
though, in later life, I, too, became a convert to the White Christ.  All
that lay ahead of me then and I dreamt myself of becoming a Viking and
amassing my fortune through the summer voyages.  It is a young man's dream,
of course, but it sparkles like gold when the sap is rising and you know no
better.



   The next time I saw Meera - ha - nhee was a couple of days after the
incident with the salmon.  This time, I know, she sought me out.  I was
sent to gather more of the grapes that were ripe by then and she appeared
at my side as though she had fallen from the heavens, so silent was her
coming.  She greeted me solemnly.



   "Torfi."



   "Meera - ha - NHEE."



   She smiled and clapped her hands, either because I had remembered or
because I said it right, I had no way of telling.  She began to talk to me
then.  I couldn't make out a word of it, of course, but I pretended in my
head that she was telling me the things I wanted her to say.  Most likely
she was saying that the salmon had been delicious and she'd like some more
the next time I went fishing.  My translation was more along the lines of
her admiring my shoulders and my broad, manly chest.  I will never know
which version was closer, but I have my suspicions that mine was wide of
the mark!

   How do you woo a maid when you cannot talk to her and tell her those
sweet lies that women love to hear?  Not possible, you say?  Untrue, it's
possible, right enough, but devilish difficult.  What was more, I had no
experience of women to know how better to further my cause.  None of the
well-bred maids of Heriulfsness or Brattahlid would look twice at a
landless fisher-boy.  My fortunes had sunk with my father's drakkr and both
lay deep and lost as could be.  So, while I thought myself the man, I was,
in truth, a callow youth, and clay under any young female fingers.  It
started as a game but I was hooked.  I was certain that she knew and played
along.  I spent my idle hours carving a model of our ship.  I even made a
sail out of a scrap of cloth.  I produced this offering now from out of my
shirt and placed it her hands.  She stared at in wonder.  I don't think the
skraelings set much store by carving, but I was skilled enough and it was a
very recognisable likeness of the knarr that lay at anchor on the lake.



   I made to take a kiss of her in payment but she jumped away, divining my
intention.  She touched her hand to my lips and shook her head in denial. I
grinned at her and nodded and she leapt away, laughing.  There was
something of the wild about her, that same quality you see in a young wolf.
I wanted her badly and this, she had guessed.  Even so, she sought my
company and walked easy beside me, even if a little apart.  So it was for
the remainder of that summer.  We learned a little of each other's
language. In all truth, she learned better and faster than I did.  I was
still saying simple words like 'tree' and 'river' in the skraeling tongue
when she was starting to put together phrases in ours.  But it is one thing
to point at an object and repeat its name and quite another to say the
words that are in your heart.  This latter art I never mastered.  As to
what was in her heart, I couldn't guess.



   As the days shortened and the nights drew in, a change came over her.  I
got the feeling that she was telling me she was going away.  I pointed to
the south and asked her:



   "You go?"



   She nodded vigorously.



   "People go there." She held up the fingers of one hand.  "This many
times the new moon.  You come?"



   I shook my head.h " We stay lake," I told her.  She looked a little sad
and sighed.



   So that was the way of it.  We didn't use words.  I reached her for to
try a kiss and, this time, she came, all uncomplaining, and matched her
lips to mine.  I cannot say what she intended but I told her with my kiss
that spring would be a long time coming.  I dare to think she felt the
same.



   I was kept busy over the next week or so.  The salmon were few in number
now and mostly I took the after-boat down river to the sea and fished the
waters round the cape for pollack and bloghan and whatever else I might
find.  I thought the codfish would come back as winter approached but, in
case they didn't, we were laying up a stock of smoked and salted fish
against the cold weather.  We had smoked deer meat as well and had a good
supply of the skraeling corn besides a variety of grapes and sweet berries
so none would go hungry.  Leif was cautious though and reminded us that we
did not know how severe the winter might be in this land.  When I was next
free to take some time for myself, the skraelings had gone.  I went to all
the places that I was wont to meet Meera - ha - nhee but there was never a
sign of her.



   As matters turned the winter was mild with few hard frosts and little
snow compared with Greenland.  The grass, we noted, seemed to stay lush all
year and the farmers among us were greatly encouraged, saying there would
be little need for winter fodder for cattle in Vinland.  The days and
nights were of more equal length than we were used to for the season and,
on the shortest day of the year, the sun was up between eykarstad and
dagmalastad!  This was indeed a fair land.  We spent the winter cutting
timber for the cargo home, stripping the bark and setting it to dry in
stacks along the lakeshore.  There were codfish aplenty to be caught and in
the early spring, the river ran with sweet brown trout.  Truly, this was
Vinland the Good and the land provided everything a man might need for an
ordered life; timber for building, fish and game, fruits and berries and
lush pastureland for kine.  Yet I was not content.



   We passed the winter nights in the smoky great hall.  Rush lights were
lit and the men would take into turns to entertain with songs and sagas and
stories.  Sometimes, a man would remark on how we had never seen any
skraeling villages and then another would pipe up and say we had seen no
women either.  That would usually give the conversation a more ribald turn
as the boasting would start.  Leif was not fond of such talk and would draw
a little apart but he did not forbid it.  Some of the tales were
fantastical; of women in Russia who grew three teats and of a tribe on the
Black Sea where the women's private parts ran east to west, not north to
south, as, they said, is proper.

   Some of the tales, I knew, were meant to gull me, but I held my peace
and kept my own counsel until they grew tired of the sport.  It was a
relief to us all when the warmer weather returned.  Men aren't meant to be
so long in their own company, unless it is for warfare.  Harsh words were
spoken and more than one received a bloody nose from another's fist before
the spring came again.  It owed much to Leif that nothing worse happened.
He swore he would kill the first to draw a knife in a quarrel and none
doubted but he would do so.  It was Leif who held the band together with
the force of his will and the strength of his hold was never seriously
tested.  We still trusted his luck.  We lost but one man all winter and
that was hairy Bjorn.  He had it in his mind to search for wind-berries and
strayed too far.  We did not find him for three days.  He had fallen and
broken a leg.  The wild beasts, whether wolves or bears I cannot say, had
done for him then.  We buried him in the way of the White Christ, for he
was a follower, and Leif caused a stone cross to be carved and marked the
runes himself - he was an educated man.



   When the fifth new moon had waxed and waned since the skraelings
departed southwards, I went again in my free hours to seek for Meera - ha -
nhee.  However, it was she found me as I was cutting reeds in the marshes.
Leif had ordered us to repair the great hall after the winter and we needed
fresh thatch here and there where the storms had damaged it.  She was
suddenly beside me.  My hearing is as sharp as any man's but I did not
catch so much as a footfall of her coming.  We were shy with each other at
first and I had lost much of the skraeling tongue that I had learned.  Not
so her.  She must have practiced each day through the winter and her voice,
though soft, was confident.



   "Torfi!"



   "Meera - ha - nhee"



   " I come back.  Stay this place for this many times new moon."



   She held up one hand and two fingers of the other.



   "Good," I said.  "Thorfinn happy Meera - ha - nhee will stay."



   "Happy, Torfi?  What happy?"



   I couldn't explain so I whooped and did a little dance for her.  She
grinned so broadly her eyes almost disappeared in the creases of her face.



   "Ah, happy!  Meera - ha - nhee happy Torfi happy."



   Then she kissed me, a gentle brush of her lips against my cheeks.  I
blushed scarlet and grinned stupidly at her.  She watched me working for a
while and sang a little song, the only words I recognised were 'birch
tree.' I bound up a great bundle of reeds and headed back to the steading.
I was covered in mud and sweat and I pointed further along the lakeshore.



   "Go there!  Torfi swim."



   She nodded her understanding and melted into the woods as I lugged my
burden back to the builders.  I muttered to the men that I was off to get
cleaned up and one look at my spattered face and rat's-tail hair was enough
for them to ask no questions.  I ran from the camp as fast as I could. 
There was no sign of her when I reached my swimming spot.  I had come to
expect this.  She always watched a while before venturing into the open.  I
stripped off my shirt and trews and plunged into the water.  It was cold
and made me gasp but I soon got used to it and set to washing my clothes. I
caught a flash of movement from the corner of my eye and looked up in time
to see a pair of long, brown legs disappearing into the water.  She dived
almost without a splash.  I searched the lake, waiting for her to break
surface but could see no sign.



   Then something grabbed my ankle and pulled me over and I fell backwards
into the water leaving my washing floating on the surface.  I came up
spluttering with laughter to see her watching me with huge eyes.  I ducked
under the water and slicked back my hair, for it had fallen over my face.
This time I saw her properly and realised she was naked under the water. 
Only her head and shoulders showed but the lake was clear and I could see
her teats quite clearly.  She caught the direction of my eyes and laughed
at me.



   "Torfi happy?"



   "Thorfinn happy, happy, happy!"



   She slowly rose and stood.  The water came up to her waist.  I was
thunderstruck.  Her teats were high and rounded, the tips prominent from
the cold water.  I rubbed my eyes in disbelief.  She was beautiful in the
way that a young deer is beautiful.  You know it has these few scant
moments in time before age and decay, that is the lot of all upon the
Earth, will claim this beauty for its own.  But then, in the sunlit Vinland
morning, such things were far off and I could only stare in wonder at the
flawless symmetry of her.  I was paralysed.  I couldn't lift an arm nor
take a step.  It was left to her to close the space between us.  She slid
back under the water and...  vanished!  I searched the clear lake for her
but could see no trace.  Then I heard her laughter from the bank behind me.
She stood for a moment in all her naked glory and then, slipping the shift
back over her head in one easy motion, she disappeared back into the trees.
I slumped to my knees in the water, thinking that my heart would burst, so
full it was.



   I didn't see her for the next couple of days.  Leif drove us now.  He
wanted to be ready to sail as soon as summer was set fair.  We rowed the
knarr back down river and beached on the flood tide.  We scrubbed and
caulked and scoured the hull, lighting smudge fires in the bilges to kill
off any insects that had taken root there.  So it was the third evening
after the incident at the lake that next I saw her.  I had taken the
after-boat back up to the lake with a couple of my fellows.  The evening
was clear and still and I thought I would try my luck fishing for some of
the lake trout I could see rising.  I picked up my pole from the steading
and headed back to the shore.  There was a low promontory on the far side
of the lake that looked as though it would give me a good fishing place and
I made my way round the water's edge until I could reach it.



   She stepped from the woods straight into my path and greeted me with a
smile.  I pointed out the spot where I was heading and she shrugged and
fell in beside me, catching my free hand in one of her own and chattering
away in skraeling so fast I thought she couldn't possibly have drawn
breath. We got to the spot I had selected and I grubbed up a few fat, brown
worms for bait, charged my hook and flicked it into the lake.  I had good
sport for a while and landed a good hand of plump trout.  All the while
Meera - ha - nhee watched and sang her little song about birch trees.  At
last the trout moved off out of my reach and she sat beside me.



   "Torfi swim?"



   "Why not?  Let's swim."



   I stripped off my clothes and plunged into the lake.  I turned to look
for her but she wasn't there.  She sat on the bank and watched me, still in
her shift.  I called to her:



   "Meera - ha - nhee swim?"



   She shook her head but rose to her feet and stripped off her shift.  She
beckoned me from the water.  I moved like a man in a dream towards to her.
Blood pounded in my ears and my heart felt so big within my chest that I
swear I was near to choking on it.  She was utterly still, head erect.  The
sun gleamed in the raven's wing hair and dusted her body with a rich, red
glow.  I could hardly breathe.  I floundered from the shallows and came up
beside her.  I kissed her then and drew her tight against me.  She shivered
from the feel of my cold skin on hers.  The tips of her teats grew hard
against me and all I knew was the feeling of great joy that surged through
me like a river in its springtime spate.  She drew me down onto the grass.
I raised myself on one elbow to stare at her.



   I moved my fingers over her body.  Here was hard muscle, there a
yielding softness.  Her eyes were closed and there was a soft humming sound
in her throat.  I could see a pulse beating there and leant down to kiss
it. She gave a small sigh as my lips roamed over her face and neck and her
arms came up to embrace me.  The world slowed for me.  Each moment was an
hour.  Her fingers traced the muscles of my arms and the feeling seemed to
travel down my spine.  I shuddered with the intensity of it.  She pulled my
head down to her teat and I kissed her there.  I was so close to heaven I
could hear the Valkyrie, or maybe it was the singing of my blood.



   It was then she drew me into her.  I could tell I was the first.  She
held me fast and rocked a little and hissed once.  I started to frame a
question but her lips silenced me and she clung to me, lifting me bodily
with the strength of her hips and urging me onwards.  My head was spinning
but my body took over.  We danced the oldest dance that men and women do. I
was not master of myself and, truth to say, love's madness had seized us
both.  We rolled and clung and kissed and cried out together.  I felt the
sweetness rising and knew I was near.  All was heat and slick softness.  I
cried out as I spent within her, slamming into her again and again while
she grasped me round the neck, her eyes wide now, but not seeing.  I held
fast to her and she crooned, a low, loving note.

   We slept a little after, at least I did.  The moon was rising when I
woke and I felt the chill of the night air.  I jumped up and dressed
quickly while Meera - ha - nhee slipped into the lake and washed.  I marked
the smear of blood upon her thigh and felt much the man.  She dressed as
easily as before and kissed me thrice before departing.  This time she
moved slowly and I saw her go.  I made my way back slowly to the steading.
I was halfway back before I realised I had forgotten my fishing pole and
the evening's catch.  When I retraced my steps, only the pole was there.



   The following day was, perhaps, the strangest of all my life.  We were
all working on the knarr with only one man left as guard upon the steading.
Towards mid-morning a crowd of skraelings emerged of the woods and onto the
beach.  They stopped some twenty paces from the knarr and one stepped
forth. He was a tall man and powerfully built for their kind.  He was no
match for Leif or Snorri, though, and even I over-topped in height, for I
had grown a hand's width over the winter.  This man had a proud look and
was accoutred very strangely.  He wore a bearskin about his shoulders with
the bear's maw over his head.  he hailed us then in the skraeling tongue
and, with a sinking feeling, I recognised the name of Meera - ha - nhee.  I
hurriedly explained to Leif all that had transpired between us.  He gave me
a look that melted my sinews.  The skraeling chief, for such I took him to
be, hailed again and pointed directly at me.  I looked to Leif but he just
shrugged.



   I summoned all my courage and walked forward to meet the skraeling.  He
turned and called again, imperiously.  Meera - ha - nhee crept forward, her
face was a mask of fear and she would not look me in the eye.  The chief
seized her by the hand and then grasped one of mine and held them fast
together.  He glared at me and rolled his eyes horribly.  Another skraeling
approached and bound our hands together.  The Chief then pronounced some
sort of sing song chant and then was much wailing from the other
skraelings. Then he threw a great bundle of peltries at my feet and looked
at me expectantly.  It was clear I was expected to return a gift.  I had
nothing with me but my long knife and sealskin roll of iron fishhooks.  I
solemnly laid these at his feet.  There was a gleam in his eye as he saw
the long knife and he swooped upon it, pulling from the scabbard and
brandishing over his head and giving an ululating cry.  Meera - ha - nhee
spoke in a small voice.



   "Skraeling happy, happy, happy.  Torfi happy?"



   "Thorfinn happy, happy, happy, " I agreed and she relayed to this chief
who beamed at me, showing blackened teeth.



   The knarr's crew were muttering behind me and I heard Leif's voice
raised in sardonic amusement.



    "It appears, my friends, that young Thorfinn Fairhair has found himself
a bride!  Now that, boys, is what I call initiative.  Not one among you
ever saw a skraeling woman until this day yet Thorfinn, here, has not only
seen one, he's bedded and wedded her!"



   The men gave a great shout and this was answered by that weird ululation
from the skraelings.  Meera - ha - nhee pointed at the chief and then at
skraeling woman who had crept out to stand beside him.  She made a mime of
two adults and one child and pointed at the skraelings and then at her
self. She struggled for a moment and then asked me for the words.



   "Father," I pointed at the chief.



   "Fa -ther," she repeated.



   I pointed at the woman.  "Mother," I said.  Meera - ha - nhee repeated
my word again.  She pointed at each of them in turn.



   "Father Meera - ha - nhee, mother Meera - ha - nhee.  Torfi father?"



   I shook my head and pointed first at the sky and then the earth.



   "Thorfinn's father and mother gone, " I told her.



   She looked at me in surprise then pointed at Leif.



   "Torfi father?"



   I shook my head.



   "Leif is our captain.  He commands here.  All of us." I made an
encircling gesture to take in the knarr and its crew and pointed at Leif. I
bowed in his direction and she understood.



   "Captain," I said again, "Chief."



   I pointed at her father and said, "Skraeling captain?"



   She nodded vigorously.  "Captain," she agreed.  Then she smiled at me.



   "Torfi people, skraeling people come.  Go there!"



   She pointed and I followed her gesture.  A little way down the beach,
more skraelings had appeared and were making a fire.  I turned to Leif and
called:



   "Looks like we're invited to a wedding breakfast."



   This raised another cheer and the men downed their tools and joined in
the processionalong the beach.  Now we saw the skraelings for the first
time in family groups.  There were women and children as well as numerous
men.  The men alone outnumbered us by two to one.  Here and there we saw
some with the bog-iron knives but most had tools of stone or antler.  Women
ground corn in a great wooden quern and put meat to roast upon the fire.  I
could not but smile when I also saw a full hand of plump brown trout set to
cook on sticks at the edge of the flames.



   They gave us the juice of some fruit to drink and there was also fresh
water.  I must have been the first Norseman in the history of our kind to
be married sober, for they had no knowledge of fermenting or brewing, and
we had long since drunk our store of ale.  Once the meal was over the
skraelings packed away their tools and slipped away as silently as they had
arrived until only Meera - ha - nhee was left, sitting beside me.  Leif
moved in our direction and I made to rise but he waved me back.



   "Does she understand that we'll be leaving soon, Thorfinn?"



   I shrugged and turned to her.



   "Meera - ha - nhee, Thorfinn people go one new moon."



   "Torfi go?"



   "Aye, Thorfinn go."



   I hadn't thought of it until that moment.  I hadn't thought of leaving
her at all.  I turned to Leif.



   "Can't she come with us?"



   He gave me a sharp look and shook his head.



   "Think, boy!  One young girl on a ship of men who have been without
women's company for the best part of a year?  That's a deal of trouble,
lad, and I'm not fool enough to take the risk.  There's more than one, I
think, would act the ni-thing and break the vow of comradeship.  You'd wind
up over the side with your throat cut and she'd be passed around for a
plaything.  You have my leave to stay here, if you so wish, but I cannot,
dare not, take the girl."



   He was right, of course.  I'd already seen the speculative and covetous
glances cast in our direction.  But I couldn't think straight, not right
then.  I had no one waiting my return, it was true, but then again, I was a
Norseman and no skraeling.  I didn't know how they lived and from the
little I could judge, it was a hard life.  Maybe no harder than our rough
sea-faring ways but strange, different, alien.  My heart sank inside me as
I knew I could not stay alone, even with Meera - ha - nhee.



   She had been watching us all the while, her eyes flitting from my face
to Leif's and back again.  I turned to her and gave a tight smile.



   "Thorfinn people go, Meera - ha - nhee.  Thorfinn go.  Meera - ha - nhee
stay.  Skraeling people stay."



   She nodded.  Her face collapsed with sorrow and something else.  Anger?
Perhaps, she could be hard to read when she chose.  When she next looked
back her face was blank.



   "Meera - ha - nhee go skraeling people.  Torfi go Torfi people."



   I nodded and she mirrored my gesture.  She reached forward then and
plucked Leif's knife from his belt.  Before we could stop her she cut
through the thong that still loosely joined our wrists and flung the knife
to sand with a sharp, wounded cry.



   "Meera - ha - nhee go!"



   And she did, vanishing swiftly from sight among the trees.  That was the
last I saw of her.  I wish I could have explained but I had not the words.
Even had she spoken Norse as good as Leif or me, I still don't think I
could have told her fully all that was in my heart.  I felt sick, like a
man who's been kicked in the guts.  Leif laid a hand on my shoulder and
patted me absently.  I looked at him with brimming eyes but he could find
no comfort for me.  We both knew he was right.  At length he said heavily:



   "Well, Thorfinn Fairhair, there's not many men who can say they were
married and divorced in a single afternoon.  You have chosen aright, for
what it's worth, and one thing I will tell you: you'll remember this day as
long as you live."



   He was right.  It remains as sharp and clear in the memory as yesterday.



   Eleven days later we sailed on the high tide.  We crawled seawards under
oars until we weathered the cape and the island and had good enough wind to
hoist the sail.  It was a grey, sullen day with a heavy overcast and it
wondrously matched my mood.  I stood alone at the prow to watch for
skerries and felt curious eyes upon me.  None, so far, had asked me about
the girl or how the sudden wedding had come to pass.  Even I could only
guess but I believe Meera - ha - nhee had told her mother or father all
that happened by the lake and they came to us to see her not dishonoured. I
hope, by our marriage, she avoided that fate.  Her father had seemed well
satisfied with the bride-price.  A long knife and a handful of fishhooks
seems little enough, I warrant you.  I felt I got the best of the bargain.
I had a bundle of rich furs that would fetch the price of six long knives
plus I had my share of the cargo of timber and peltries.  I wouldn't be
rich but it was a very fair start for a young fisher-boy with nothing to
his name.



   The voyage back was easy but the time weighed heavy with me.  We saw
nothing of interest, just endless days of sea and sky and the wind blew
contrary-wise for much of the trip so we had to tack and beat back and
forth against the breeze to make our easting.  One final incident of note
came when we were not more than half a day from Heriulfsness.  I happened
to look to starboard and saw a ship, or at least part of one, fast upon a
great skerry.  I called to Leif, who had just taken the styri.



   "Wreck, ho!  I think there are still men aboard her."



   We altered course  towards the skerry and soon enough we could make out
that it was indeed a knarr like our own run hard upon the rocks.  Her
bedraggled crew had seen us now and we heard a faint cheer as we bore down
on them.  I knew this place well for I had fished it many times and called
to Leif to tack and come up on the other side where the water was deep. 
This we did and hove to, barely an oar's length from the wreck.  Leif
called out for their captain and he answered.  By a strange chance, his
name was Thori and he was a cousin to Leif's father.  We took fifteen souls
from that wreck and thereafter Leif was known ever as Leif the Lucky, for
he came home with more crew than had sailed with him and only one man lost
in the whole year.



   In the years that followed, more sailed to Vinland the Good.  It
saddened me to learn that they had fought with the skraelings, who never
dealt with us other than fairly.  If there came bad blood between us, I
have no doubt that it was the Norsemen who erred the most.  Many asked me
to sail back with them, not least Leif's own brother, Thorvald, but neither
Leif nor I returned to Vinland more.  The following year I went trading to
Norway and there I met and married my Ingveld.  We returned to Greenland
together and I bought a steading not far from the sea at Eriksfirth.  I
never went a-viking but remained a trader and fisherman all my days to
this. Now I own three knarrs and each is skippered by one of my sons. 
Together we have roamed far and wide, beyond the lands of the Franks to
Africa and through the Baltic Sea to Muscovy and Russia.







   Still, with everything I have seen and done these many years, there is
nothing that quite compares with my first voyage, my first woman and my
first love.





   The End