Historic Tales, Vol. 1 | Page 4

loomed snow-covered heights.
"This is not the land we seek," said Leif; "but we will not do as Biarni
did, who never set foot on shore. I will give this land a name, and will
call it Helluland,"--a name which signifies the "land of broad stones."

Onward they sailed again, their hearts now filled with ardent
expectation. At length rose again the stirring cry of "Land!" or its Norse
equivalent, and as the dragon-peaked craft glided swiftly onward there
rose into view a long coast-line, flat and covered with white sand in the
foreground, while a dense forest spread over the rising ground in the
rear.
"Markland [land of forest] let it be called," cried Leif. "This must be
the land which Biarni first saw. We will not be like him, but will set
foot on its promising shores."
They landed, but tarried not long. Soon they took ship again, and sailed
for two days out of sight of land. Then there came into view an island,
with a broad channel between it and the mainland. Up this channel they
laid their course, and soon came to where a river poured its clear waters
into the sea. They decided to explore this stream. The boat was lowered
and the ship towed up the river, until, at a short distance inland, it
broadened into a lake. Here, at Leif's command, the anchor was cast,
and their good ship, the pioneer in American discovery, came to rest
within the inland waters of the New World.
Not many minutes passed before the hardy mariners were on shore, and
eagerly observing the conditions of their new-discovered realm. River
and lake alike were full of salmon, the largest they had ever seen, a fact
which agreeably settled the question of food. The climate seemed
deliciously mild, as compared with the icy shores to which they were
used. The grass was but little withered by frost, and promised a winter
supply of food for cattle. Altogether they were so pleased with their
surroundings that Leif determined to spend the winter at that place,
exploring the land so far as he could.
For some time they dwelt under booths, passing the nights in their
leather sleeping-bags; but wood was abundant, axes and hands skilful
to wield them were at hand, and they quickly went to work to build
themselves habitations more suitable for the coming season of cold.
No inhabitants of the land were seen. So far as yet appeared, it might be
a region on which human foot had never before been set. But Leif was

a cautious leader. He bade his men not to separate until the houses were
finished. Then he divided them into two parties, left one to guard their
homes and their ship, and sent the other inland to explore.
"Beware, though," he said, "that you risk not too much. We know not
what perils surround us. Go not so far inland but that you can get back
by evening, and take care not to separate."
Day after day these explorations continued, the men plunging into the
forest that surrounded them and wandering far into its hidden recesses,
each evening bringing back with them some story of the marvels of this
new land, or some sample of its productions strange to their eyes.
An evening came in which one of the explorers failed to return. He had
either disobeyed the injunctions of Leif and gone too far to get back by
evening, or some peril of that unknown land had befallen him. This
man was of German birth, Tyrker by name, a southerner who had for
years dwelt with Eirek and been made the foster-father of Leif, who
had been fond of him since childhood. He was a little,
wretched-looking fellow, with protruding forehead, unsteady eyes, and
tiny face, yet a man skilled in all manner of handicraft.
Leif, on learning of his absence, upbraided the men bitterly for losing
him, and called on twelve of them to follow him in search. Into the
forest they went, and before long had the good fortune to behold Tyrker
returning. The little fellow, far from showing signs of disaster, was in
the highest of spirits, his face radiant with joy.
"How now, foster-father!" cried Leif. "Why are you so late? and why
have you parted from the others?"
Tyrker was too excited to answer. He rolled his eyes wildly and made
wry faces. When words came to him, he spoke in his native German,
which none of them understood. Joy seemed to have driven all memory
of the language of the north from his mind. It was plain that no harm
had come to him. On the contrary, he seemed to have stumbled upon
some landfall of good luck. Yet some time passed before they could