rten, beaver, as well as coarser
kinds, bear and wolf and elk. Karlsefne would exchange no weapons; but
milk he offered, and that they drank greedily and on the spot, and
cloth too, of which he had a good store. Red cloth took their fancy
most; they seemed as if they must have it, it was a kind of lust. The
breadths he could spare them grew narrower and narrower; they pushed
out their furs for it with no consideration of what they got in
exchange. At last it became a kind of madness, and Karlsefne said it
had better stop. "They take it like strong water; one of these days
they will be killing men for it." It was a prophecy on his part--for
they came in greater and greater numbers, and when there was no more
red cloth for them, they howled and chattered and looked dangerous.
Karlsefne and the men with him faced them with the best heart they had,
but he ordered a retreat to the stockade, and when he was pretty near
the entrance bade a man go in and bring out the bull. That answered.
The great beast stood in the doorway pawing the ground and breathing
hard. When he saw what was in front of him, down went his head, and he
charged. The savages scattered all ways and saved themselves. In a
few moments the lake was black with canoes; it was, the tale says, as
though the water was covered with floating charcoal. Karlsefne did not
like the look of things at all. He doubled the watch on the ship and
strengthened the stockade; but did not wish to frighten Gudrid, who was
so happy with her child, and beginning, as he could see, to love
himself. He knew that she loved him, because at all sorts of times he
found out that she had been looking at him while he moved about, busy
over something or other. He taxed her with it one day. "I think that
you love me, Gudrid."

She put her head on one side. "What makes you think so?" He told her;
so then she owned to it, and he wished to know why. She said that she
could not tell, but in such a way that he saw that she could, and
wished him to know. So then he pressed her. "Tell me, Gudrid, why you
love me." She touched her child's head. "Because you are strong, and
good, and brave. And because you gave me this. A woman must love her
child's father."

"Ask Freydis that," said Karlsefne; and she answered him; "Freydis
loves more than she chooses to say. When Freydis has a child, you will
see that she will love it."

"But not her man on that account," he said. "It is on