Long time this German had lived with Eric the Red and was much
beloved by him. Tyrker also loved Leif dearly, for he had known
him since he was a child, and was indeed his foster father. So he
was eager to go with Leif upon this adventurous voyage. Tyrker was
very little and plain. His forehead was high and his eyes small and
restless. He wore shabby clothes, and to the blue-eyed, fair-haired
giants of the North he seemed indeed a sorry-looking little fellow.
But all that mattered little, for he was a clever craftsman, and
Leif and his companions were glad to have him go with them.
Then, all things being ready, Leif went to his father and, bending
his knee to him, prayed him to be their leader.
But Eric the Red shook his head. "Nay, my son," he said, " I am old
and stricken in years, and no more able to endure the hardships of
the sea."
"Yet come, my father," pleaded Leif, "for of a certainty if you
do, good luck will go with us."
Then Eric looked longingly at the sea. His heart bade him go out
upon it once again ere he died. So he yielded to the prayers of
his son and, mounting upon his horse, he rode towards the ship.
When the sea-farers saw him come they set up a shout of welcome.
But when Eric was not far from the ship the horse upon which he
was riding stumbled, and he was thrown to the ground. He tried to
rise but could not, for his foot was sorely wounded.
Pages:
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27