ing at the side, gazing eagerly toward the
shore. As though suddenly reminded of his existence, the chief stopped
behind him and touched him on the shoulder.

"The Norman is as much too modest as his friend is too bold," he said,
with a note of his occasional courtliness. "A man who has thought it
worth while to travel so far is certainly entitled to a share in every
experience. Let Robert Sans-Peur go down and take the place that is his
right."

As the boat bounded away with the Fearless One on the last bench,
Sigurd's face was a study. Between mortification and amusement, it was
so convulsed that Rolf, who shared the Norman's seat, could not restrain
his soft laughter.

"Whether or not the Silver-Tongued has given his luck to you, it is seen
that he has none left for himself," he laughed into his companion's ear.

The Norman bent to his oar with a petulant force that drove it deep into
the water and far out of stroke.

"Whether or not he has any left for himself, it is certain that he has
given none of it to me," he muttered. "Here are we at our second
landing, and no chance have I had yet to endanger my life for the chief.
Nor do I see any reason for expecting favorable prospects in this
tame-appearing land. Is it of any use to hope for wild beasts here?"

The Wrestler regarded him over his shoulder with amused eyes. "Is it
your opinion that Leif Ericsson needs your protection against wild
beasts?" he inquired.

Under the Norman's swarthy complexion, Alwin of England suddenly
flushed. When a wish is rooted in one's very heart, it is difficult to
get far enough away to see it in its true proportions.

The cliffs of gleaming silver faded, on the boat's approach, into
gullied bluffs of weather-beaten sand; but the white beach that met the
water, and the green thickets that covered the heights, remained fair
and inviting. No fear of dark omens along that shining sand; no danger
of evil spirits in that sunlit wood. All was pure and bright and fresh
from the hand of God. In place of a spur, the explorers needed a
rein,--and a tight one. But for the chief's authority, they would have
spread themselves over the place like birds'-nesting boys.

"Ye know no more moderation than swine," Leif said sternly, checking
their rush to obey the beckoning of the myriad of leafy hands. "And ye
are as witless as children, besides. Have ye not learned yet that cold
steel often lies hid under a fair tunic? We will divide into two