he other
being stretched in death upon the beach.

The mariners had made a fatal mistake. To kill none, unless
they could kill all, should have been their rule, a lesson
in practical wisdom which they were soon to learn. But,
heedless of danger and with the confidence of strength and
courage, they threw themselves upon the sands, and, being
weary and drowsy, were quickly lost in slumber.

And now came a marvel. A voice, none knew whence or of whom,
called loudly in their slumbering ears,--

"Wake, Thorvaldt! Wake all your men, if you would save your
life and theirs! Haste to your ship and fly from land with
all speed, for vengeance and death confront you."

Suddenly aroused, they sprang to their feet, looking at each
other with astounded eyes, and asking who had spoken those
words. Little time for answer remained. The woods behind
them suddenly seemed alive with fierce natives, who had been
roused to vengeful fury by the flying fugitive, and now came
on with hostile cries. The Norsemen sprang to their boats
and rowed in all haste to the ship; but before they could
make sail the surface of the bay swarmed with skin-boats,
and showers of arrows were poured upon them.

The warlike mariners in turn assailed their foes with
arrows, slings, and javelins, slaying so many of them that
the remainder were quickly put to flight. But they fled not
unrevenged. A keen-pointed arrow, flying between the ship's
side and the edge of his shield, struck Thorvald in the
armpit, wounding him so deeply that death threatened to
follow the withdrawal of the fatal dart.

"My day is come," said the dying chief. "Return home to
Greenland as quickly as you may. But as for me, you shall
carry me to the place which I said would be so pleasant to
dwell in. Doubtless truth came out of my mouth, for it may
be that I shall live there for awhile. There you shall bury
me and put crosses at my head and feet, and henceforward
that place shall be called Krossanes" [Cross Cape].

The sorrowing sailors carried out the wishes of their dying
chief, who lived but long enough to fix his eyes once more
on the place which he had chosen for his home, and then
closed them in the sleep of death. They buried him here,
placing the crosses at his head and feet as he had bidden,
and then set sail again for the booths of Leif at Vineland,
where part of their company had been left to gather grapes
in their absence. To these they told the story of what had
happen