tform and eat witches' broth, and have women
stand about me and sing weird songs. Without music, spirits do not like
to help. I can only see bits, vaguely as through a fog... I see your
body lying on the ground I see a ship where never ship was seen before I
see--I see Leif Ericsson standing upon earth where never man stood
before. It seems to me that I read great luck in his face... And I see
you standing beside him, though you do not look as you look now, for
your hair is long and black. The light is so bright that I cannot...
Yes, one thing more is open to my sight. I see that it is in this new
land that it will be settled whether your luck is to be good or bad."
She stopped. They waited for her to go on; but soon it became evident
that the foretelling was finished. With all his prudence, Sigurd began
to laugh; and Alwin burst out in a passion of impatience: "For which,
you gabbler? For which? I can make nothing of such jargon. Tell me in
plain words whether it will be for good or ill."
Skroppa answered just one word: "Jargon!"
Alwin stormed on unheeding, but Sigurd's laughter stopped: something in
the tone of that one word chilled his blood and braced his muscles like
a frost. He strained his eyes to pierce the shadow and make out what she
was doing; and it seemed to him that he could no longer see her. She had
disappeared,--where? In a sudden panic he groped behind him for the
door; found it and flung it open. It was well that the moon was shining
at that moment.
"Alwin!" he shouted. The yellow face was close to the thrall's
unconscious shoulder; one evil claw-like hand was almost at his cheek.
What she would have done, she alone knew.
While his cry was still in the air, Sigurd pulled his companion away and
through the door. Up the steep they went like cats. Near the top, Alwin
tripped, and his knife slipped from his belt and fell against a boulder.
It lay there shining, but neither of them noticed it. Into their skees,
and over the crusted plains they went,--reindeer could not have caught
them.
CHAPTER XIX
TALES OF THE UNKNOWN WEST
Fire is needful
To him who is come in,
And whose knees are frozen;
Food and raiment
A man requires
Who o'er the fell has travelled.
Ha'vama'l
"I tell you I must go over the track once more. It may have slipped
out of my girdle at some of the places where I tripped."
Alwin's words rose in frosty cloud; for he was Leif's u
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