Part 7 (1/2)
”But why did you not shout before _him_?” asked Karlsefin, as he and Biarne surveyed the distant land with keen interest.
”Just because he took me unawares,” replied the boy indignantly. ”When I saw it I did not wish to be hasty. It might have turned out to be a cloud, or a fog-bank, and I might have given a false alarm; so I pointed it out to him, and asked what he thought; but instead of answering me he gaped with his ugly mouth and shouted `Land ho!' I could have kicked him.”
”Nay, Olaf; that is not well said,” observed Karlsefin, very gravely; ”if you _could_ have kicked him you _would_ have kicked him. Why did you not do it?”
”Because he is too big for me,” answered the boy promptly.
”So, then, thy courage is only sufficient to make thee kick those who are small enough,” returned Karlsefin, with a frown. ”Perhaps if you were as big as he you would be afraid to kick him.”
”That would not I,” retorted Olaf.
”It is easy for you to say that, boy, when you know that he _would_ not strike you now, and that there is small chance of your meeting again after you have grown up to prove the truth of what you say. It is mere boasting, Olaf; and, mark me, you will never be a brave man if you begin by being a boastful boy. A truly brave and modest man--for modesty and bravery are wont to consort together--never says he will strike until he sees it to be right to do so. Sometimes he does not even go the length of speaking at all, but, in any case, having made up his mind to strike, he strikes at once, without more ado, let the consequences be what they will. But in my opinion it is best not to strike at all. Do you know, Olaf; my boy, some of the bravest men I ever knew have never struck a blow since they came to manhood, excepting, of course, when compelled to do so in battle; and _then_ they struck such blows as made s.h.i.+elds and helmets fly, and strewed the plain with their foes.”
”Did these men never boast when they were boys?” asked Olaf; with a troubled air.
Karlsefin relaxed into a smile as he said, ”Only when they were very little boys, and very foolish; but they soon came to see how contemptible it is to threaten and not perform; so they gave up threatening, and when performance came to be necessary they found that threats were needless. Now, Olaf, I want you to be a bold, brave man, and I must lull you through the foolish boasting period as quickly as possible, therefore I tell you these things. Think on them, my boy.”
Olaf was evidently much relieved by the concluding remarks. While Karlsefin was speaking he had felt ashamed of himself; because he was filled with admiration of the magnificent skipper, and wanted to stand well in his opinion. It was therefore no small comfort to find that his boasting had been set down to his foolishness, and that there was good reason to hope he might ultimately grow out of it.
But Olaf had much more of the true metal in him than he himself was aware of. Without saying a word about it, he resolved not to wait for the result of this slow process of growth, but to jump, vault, or fly out of the boastful period of life, by hook or by crook, and that without delay. And he succeeded! Not all at once, of course. He had many a slip; but he persevered, and finally got out of it much sooner than would have been the case if he had not taken any trouble to think about the matter, or to _try_.
Meanwhile, however, he looked somewhat crestfallen. This being observed by the look-out, that worthy was prompted to say--”I'm sure, Olaf; you are welcome to kick me if that will comfort you, but there is no occasion to do so, because I claim not the honour of first _seeing_ the land--and if I had known the state of your mind I would willingly have let you give the hail.”
”You may have been first to discover it at this time, Olaf;” said Biarne, turning round after he had made up his mind about it, ”and no doubt you were, since the look-out admits it; nevertheless this is the land that I discovered twenty years ago. But we shall make it out more certainly in an hour or two if this breeze holds.”
The breeze did hold, and soon they were close under the land.
”Now am I quite certain of it,” said Biarne, as he stood on the p.o.o.p, surrounded by all his friends, who gazed eagerly at the sh.o.r.e, to which they had approached so close that the rocks and bushes were distinctly visible; ”that is the very same land which I saw before.”
”What, Vinland?” asked Freydissa.
”Nay, not Vinland. Are you so eager to get at the grapes that ye think the first land we meet is Vinland?”
”A truce to your jesting, Biarne; what land is it?”
”It is the land I saw _last_ when leaving this coast in search of Greenland, so that it seems not unnatural to find it _first_ on coming back to it. Leif; on his voyage, went on sh.o.r.e here. He named it h.e.l.loland, which, methinks, was a fitting name, for it is, as you see, a naked land of rocks.”
”Now, then,” said Karlsefin, ”lower the sail, heave out the anchor, and let two men cast loose the little boat. Some of us will land and see what we shall see; for it must not be said of us, Biarne, as it was unfairly said of you, that we took no interest in these new regions.”
The little boat was got ready. The Scottish brothers, Hake and Heika, were appointed to row. Karlsefin, Biarne, Thorward, Gudrid, Freydissa, and Olaf embarked and proceeded to the sh.o.r.e.
This land, on which the party soon stood, was not of an inviting aspect.
It was sterile, naked, and very rocky, as Biarne had described it, and not a blade of gra.s.s was to be seen. There was a range of high snow-capped mountains in the interior, and all the way from the coast up to these mountains the land was covered with snow. In truth, a more forbidding spot could not easily have been found, even in Greenland.
”It seems to me,” said Freydissa, ”that your new land is but a sorry place--worse than that we have left. I wonder at your landing here. It is plain that men see with flushed eyes when they look upon their own discoveries. Cold comfort is all we shall get in this place. I counsel that we return on board immediately.”
”You are too hasty, sister,” said Gudrid.
”Oh! of course, always too hasty,” retorted Freydissa sharply.
”And somewhat too bitter,” growled Thorward, with a frown.