on the shore, but left there for the night, resting mostly in the water. She was emptied of all cargo to lighten the pull. Water casks would be unnecessary, so they would be left behind on the shore near the
Snowbird
. Other supplies would be carried around the trail and reloaded. Ropes and pulleys were put in place and readied for the task that would begin as soon as it became light enough in the morning.
Nils slept little that night. Aside from the excitement of the coming day, he had much to think about. He had now overcome his doubts about the beautiful Ingrid. He managed to rationalize her treatment of her husband, and to dismiss her reputation as mere gossip. Her failure to come to the dock to see him off was, after all, only good judgment. He thought with longing of her warmth pressed against him in his blankets, and the soft urgency of her kisses. Again he wondered how long it would be before they would return to Straumfjord and he could fulfill his promise to help her, totake her away, out of her intolerable situation. Finally, he fell asleep, out of sheer physical exhaustion.
Some distance away, a runner trotted into a village and made his way to a longhouse where three elders of the tribe waited. He paused to catch his breath, while the elders, after nodding in greeting, sat and smoked and waited.
“We have watched them,” Gray Owl announced finally. “They are camped below the Talking Water.”
“They are in two boats, we are told?” one of the chiefs inquired.
“Yes. Great boats, longer than this lodge. They carry many warriors, maybe seventy.”
“Who are these men? What is their purpose?”
“We do not know. Today they cut down trees.”
“Cut trees?”
There was a murmur of nonunderstanding.
“Yes. Along the path around the Talking Water,” Gray Owl reported.
He paused self-consciously.
“Blackbird and I think they will take the great boats around.”
“But how?”
The scout shrugged.
“Sometimes these boats, long and narrow, seem to have many legs, like a caterpillar. Maybe they will crawl around.”
There was a chuckle of disbelief, and Gray Owl was embarrassed. The presiding elder looked at the others.
“What shall be done?” he asked. “Shall we meet these outsiders and talk to them?”
There was quiet around the fire for a moment.
“They have shown no hint of purpose?” one asked.
“No, they just travel,” Gray Owl answered. “Yesterday they killed a deer for meat.”
“How? How was it killed?”
“With an arrow,” Gray Owl answered.
“Then their weapons are like ours?”
“Maybe. Their axes cut fast.”
“Let us watch them a little longer,” one suggested. “Let ussee if they can bring these great boats around the Talking Water.”
“It is good,” said the elder chief. “Then we are agreed?”
The others nodded.
“Continue to watch, then,” he instructed Gray Owl, “until we see what they mean to do. But first, get some food and sleep.”
Tired and hungry, Gray Owl turned away and headed for his own lodge.
8
R opes stretched and pulleys creaked as the
Norsemaiden
seemed to haul herself out of the water like some gigantic sea dragon, to crawl upon the land. The seamen hauled and strained, chanting in unison to coordinate each effort. Rivulets of sweat trickled from brawny arms and shoulders.
Helge Landsverk was everywhere, pacing from the bow to the stern and back, helping to call the cadence, assisting with a shoulder to the hull. Some men worked with short poles used as levers, while others hauled on the ropes. The-improvised tree-trunk rollers turned slowly, and the dragon ship crept forward, up the slope and through the trees.
In some places, it was necessary to cut overhanging branches to allow the tip of the mast to clear. The ship’s progress was so slow, however, that it was possible to continue motion forward, even while the axmen cleared the way ahead.
The pulley blocks were fastened to trees along the trail ahead. When
Snowbird
. Other supplies would be carried around the trail and reloaded. Ropes and pulleys were put in place and readied for the task that would begin as soon as it became light enough in the morning.
Nils slept little that night. Aside from the excitement of the coming day, he had much to think about. He had now overcome his doubts about the beautiful Ingrid. He managed to rationalize her treatment of her husband, and to dismiss her reputation as mere gossip. Her failure to come to the dock to see him off was, after all, only good judgment. He thought with longing of her warmth pressed against him in his blankets, and the soft urgency of her kisses. Again he wondered how long it would be before they would return to Straumfjord and he could fulfill his promise to help her, totake her away, out of her intolerable situation. Finally, he fell asleep, out of sheer physical exhaustion.
Some distance away, a runner trotted into a village and made his way to a longhouse where three elders of the tribe waited. He paused to catch his breath, while the elders, after nodding in greeting, sat and smoked and waited.
“We have watched them,” Gray Owl announced finally. “They are camped below the Talking Water.”
“They are in two boats, we are told?” one of the chiefs inquired.
“Yes. Great boats, longer than this lodge. They carry many warriors, maybe seventy.”
“Who are these men? What is their purpose?”
“We do not know. Today they cut down trees.”
“Cut trees?”
There was a murmur of nonunderstanding.
“Yes. Along the path around the Talking Water,” Gray Owl reported.
He paused self-consciously.
“Blackbird and I think they will take the great boats around.”
“But how?”
The scout shrugged.
“Sometimes these boats, long and narrow, seem to have many legs, like a caterpillar. Maybe they will crawl around.”
There was a chuckle of disbelief, and Gray Owl was embarrassed. The presiding elder looked at the others.
“What shall be done?” he asked. “Shall we meet these outsiders and talk to them?”
There was quiet around the fire for a moment.
“They have shown no hint of purpose?” one asked.
“No, they just travel,” Gray Owl answered. “Yesterday they killed a deer for meat.”
“How? How was it killed?”
“With an arrow,” Gray Owl answered.
“Then their weapons are like ours?”
“Maybe. Their axes cut fast.”
“Let us watch them a little longer,” one suggested. “Let ussee if they can bring these great boats around the Talking Water.”
“It is good,” said the elder chief. “Then we are agreed?”
The others nodded.
“Continue to watch, then,” he instructed Gray Owl, “until we see what they mean to do. But first, get some food and sleep.”
Tired and hungry, Gray Owl turned away and headed for his own lodge.
8
R opes stretched and pulleys creaked as the
Norsemaiden
seemed to haul herself out of the water like some gigantic sea dragon, to crawl upon the land. The seamen hauled and strained, chanting in unison to coordinate each effort. Rivulets of sweat trickled from brawny arms and shoulders.
Helge Landsverk was everywhere, pacing from the bow to the stern and back, helping to call the cadence, assisting with a shoulder to the hull. Some men worked with short poles used as levers, while others hauled on the ropes. The-improvised tree-trunk rollers turned slowly, and the dragon ship crept forward, up the slope and through the trees.
In some places, it was necessary to cut overhanging branches to allow the tip of the mast to clear. The ship’s progress was so slow, however, that it was possible to continue motion forward, even while the axmen cleared the way ahead.
The pulley blocks were fastened to trees along the trail ahead. When
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