William Morris - 3 books to know Viking Age

“Hurrah for Blackie!” shouted Olaf, who was wild with excitement and delight.

The cheer thus claimed was given with intense enthusiasm, and then the ship was rowed back to the shore.

Here a great prize was found, in the shape of twenty canoes, which had been left by the party that had fled to the woods. These were carried carefully up to the hamlet and placed in security. On the way up another prize was found, which afterwards turned out to be of the utmost importance. This was the wounded savage, who had been forsaken by his friends when the bull charged, and who only escaped from the horns of that infuriated animal by lying quite motionless beside a log which fortunately chanced to be near him.

“Take care, Krake; lift him gently,” said Biarne, as he came up and found that worthy turning the poor savage over as if he had been already a dead carcase. “Let me see; the arrow does not seem to have gone far in. He’ll recover, perhaps. Come, Hake and Swend, lift his shoulders, and run, Olaf, tell Astrid or one of the other women to— ha! Bertha, well met. Here is a subject for your care. You are a good nurse, I’m told.”

“I try to be,” replied Bertha.

“She who tries to be is sure to be,” returned Biarne; “nursing, like fighting, is an art, and must be acquired; though, to say truth, some folk seem born to learn more rapidly than others, whether as regards nursing or fighting. Have the poor fellow into the house, and do your best for him, Bertha.”

While this was being said the native was lying on his back, looking very stern, but pale. It is probable that the poor wretch expected to be taken off summarily to have his eyes punched out, or to be roasted alive,—for the natives of Vinland, no doubt, expected from their foes, in those days, the same treatment that they accorded to them—although the Saga says nothing to that effect. When, therefore, he was put into a comfortable bed, had his wound dressed, and an agreeable though strange drink given to him by the fair hands of Bertha, the expression of his countenance seemed to imply that he believed himself to have passed from earth and got into the happy hunting-grounds of his fathers. If so, the increasing pain of his wound must have perplexed him not a little. However, it is due to him to say that he bore his surprises and pains with the uncomplaining resignation of a Stoic.

Karlsefin employed the remainder of that day in strengthening his defences and connecting them in such a way with that part of the shore where his vessel lay, that there would be no possibility of surrounding him in the event of future hostilities.

This accomplished, he organised his men into three bands, which were to be commanded respectively by Biarne, Thorward, and himself. These were appointed to particular localities and duties in the little fortress—for it was now almost entitled to such an appellation. When night drew on, sentinels were posted as before. But there was no alarm during the night. The savages appeared to have had enough of fighting for that time, and next morning’s sun arose, as it was wont to do, on a peaceful scene.

“Do you think they will attack us again?” asked Gudrid as she sat at breakfast.

“I think not,” replied her husband. “They cannot but know that we are troublesome fellows to deal with, even when taken unawares.”

“I hope they won’t go off without giving us a chance to show that we desire to be friendly,” observed Thorward.

“No fear of that,” said Biarne; “we have got one of their chiefs—at least I think he is so, for he looks like one—and that is as good as a string tied to their great toe.”

“By the way, how is the chief, Bertha?” asked Karlsefin.

“Much better this morning. He slept well, and is even now sitting up on his bed. He looked so well, indeed, that I took the precaution to fasten the door on the outside when I left him just now.”

“Ha! Didst fasten the window, wench?” cried Thorward, starting up and hastening from the room.

“Truly, no,” remarked the girl, with a somewhat confused look; “I never thought of the window.”

Thorward returned a minute later with a peculiar smile.

“He’s all safe,” said he; “I peeped through a small shot-hole in the parchment, and saw him sitting there meditating as deeply as if he hoped to meditate himself out of his prison.”

“Not a difficult thing to do that,” said Karlsefin. “I suspect that most prisoners manage to free themselves in that way pretty often! But who comes here in such hot haste? Why, Swend, what’s i’ the wind now?”

“The Skraelingers are coming,” said he. “They come unarmed, and only ten of them.”

“Oho! good,” exclaimed Karlsefin, rising. “Come, methinks I see my way out of this difficulty. Fetch me nine of our smartest men, Biarne. I will go forth with them unarmed, to meet those messengers of peace. You and Thorward will keep the defences, to be ready for any emergency. Let the Scottish brothers be among the nine.”

When the selected men had assembled, their leader took them aside and conferred with them for a few minutes, after which he led them towards that part of the defences nearest the woods, when they saw the ten natives approaching holding up their empty hands and making other demonstrations of a peaceful nature. Far away on the heights in the background the whole army of savages could be seen watching the proceedings of their messengers.

When these latter had come within about a hundred yards of the hamlet, they selected a low grassy knoll in an open spot, in full view of both parties. Here they sat down in a row and made signs to the Norsemen to approach.

“Now, lads, we will accept their invitation,” said Karlsefin; “follow me.”

With that he passed through the opening in the defences, holding up his hands as he went to show that he was unarmed, his followers doing the same. Karlsefin went up to the native who appeared to be the chief of the band, and, with a bland smile, took his hand gently and shook it.

If the savage did not understand the shake of the hand, he evidently understood the smile, for he returned it and sat down again. Karlsefin and his men did the same, and for a few moments the two rows of men sat looking benignantly at one another in silence. The savage chief then spoke. Of course Karlsefin shook his head and touched his ear, brow, and lips, by way of intimating that he heard, but could neither understand nor reply. He then spoke Norse, with similar results. After that the savage leader rose up, touched his back, and fell down as if badly wounded. Upon this one of his comrades rose, pointed to the hamlet, lifted the wounded man in his arms, carried him behind his companions, and laid him down exclaiming “Utway!” whereupon another savage took a small bundle of beautiful furs from the ground, and laid them at the feet of Karlsefin with much humility.

“Sure he wants to buy back the wounded chief with these furs,” said Krake, who found it difficult to conceal his amusement at all this dumb show.

“No doubt of it, and I suppose Utway is his name,” replied Karlsefin; “but my object is to get them inside the defences, in order to show them that when we have them in our power we will treat them well. If I let their chief go for these furs nothing will have been gained.”

Karlsefin now did his best, by means of signs and encouraging looks, to induce the ten natives to enter the hamlet, but no persuasion would induce them to do this. They held stoutly to their original proposition, and kept constantly pointing to the bundle of furs and going through the pantomime with the wounded man. At last Karlsefin appeared to agree to their proposal.

“Now, Heika and Hake,” said he, “nothing remains to be done but to try the plan I have described to you. Up, and bring the wounded chief hither without delay.”