ablished, the ship
should be sent back to Greenland to fetch more of the men's wives and
children.

A number of cattle, horses, and sheep were also carried on this occasion
to Vinland. These were stowed in the waist or middle of the vessel,
between the benches where the rowers sat when at work. The rowers did
not labour much at sea, as the vessel was at most times able to advance
under sail. During calms, however, and when going into creeks, or on
landing--also in doubling capes when the wind was not suitable--the oars
were of the greatest value. Karlsefin and the principal people slept
under the high poop. A number of the men slept under the forecastle,
and the rest lay in the waist near the cattle--sheltered from the
weather by tents or awnings which were called tilts.

It may perhaps surprise some readers to learn that men could venture in
such vessels to cross the northern seas from Norway to Iceland, and
thence to Greenland; but it is not so surprising when we consider the
small size of the vessels in which Columbus afterwards crossed the
Atlantic in safety, and when we reflect that those Norsemen had been
long accustomed, in such vessels, to traverse the ocean around the
coasts of Europe in all directions--round the shores of Britain, up the
Baltic, away to the Faroe Islands, and up the Mediterranean even as far
as the Black Sea. In short, the Norsemen of old were magnificent
seamen, and there can be no question that much of the ultimate success
of Britain on the sea is due, not only to our insular position, but also
to the insufficiently appreciated fact that the blood of the hardy and
adventurous vikings of Norway still flows in our veins.

It was a splendid spring morning when Karlsefin hoisted his
white-and-blue sail, and dropped down Ericsfiord with a favouring
breeze, while Leif and his people stood on the stone jetty at Brattalid,
and waved hats and shawls to their departing friends.

For Olaf, Thora, and Bertha it was a first voyage, and as the vessel
gradually left the land behind, the latter stood at the stern gazing
wistfully towards the shore, while tears flowed from her pretty blue
eyes and chased each other over her fair round face--for Bertha left an
old father behind her in Greenland.

"Don't cry, Bertha," said Olaf, putting his fat little hand softly into
that of the young girl.

"Oh! I shall perhaps _never_ see him again," cried Bertha, with another
burst of tears.

"Yes, you will