3 books to know Viking Age. William Morris

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      While they were thus engaged, Gudrid happened to cast her eyes over the stern of the ship, and thought she saw an object moving in the water.

      “What is that I see?” she said, pointing towards it.

      “The great sea-serpent!” exclaimed Biarne, shading his eyes with his hand.

      “Or his ghost,” remarked Krake.

      From which observations, coupled together, it would appear that the famous monster referred to was known by repute to the Norsemen of the eleventh century, though he was to some extent regarded as a myth!

      Be this as it may, the object which now attracted the attention and raised the eyebrows of all on board the “Snake” evidently possessed life, for it was very active—wildly so—besides being large. It darted hither and thither, apparently without aim, sending the water in curling foam before it. Suddenly it made straight for the ship, then it turned at a tangent and made for the island; anon it wheeled round, and rushed, like a mad creature, to the shore.

      Then arose a deafening shout from the men—

      “A whale! an embayed whale!”

      And so in fact it was; a large whale, which, as whales will sometimes do—blind ones, perhaps—had lost its way, got entangled among the sandbanks lying between the island and the shore, and was now making frantic efforts to escape.

      Need we say that a scene of the wildest excitement ensued among the men! The two boats—one of which was, as we have said, a large one—were got ready, barbed spears and lances and ropes were thrown into them, as many men as they could hold with safety jumped in, and pulled away, might and main, after the terrified whale.

      You may be sure, reader, that little Olaf was there, fast by the side of his friend and hero Karlsefin, who took charge of the large boat, with Thorward in the bow to direct him how to steer. Biarne was there too as a matter of course, in charge of the little boat, with Krake as his bowman and Tyrker pulling the stroke-oar. For Tyrker was strong, though little, ugly, and old, and had a peculiar talent for getting involved in any fighting, fun, or mischief that chanced to be in hand. Men said that he was afraid of dying in his bed, and had made up his mind to rush continually into the jaws of danger until they should close upon and crush him; but we are of opinion that this was a calumny. Those of the men who were necessarily left in the ship could scarce be prevented from swimming after the boats as they shot away, and nothing but the certainty of being drowned restrained them from making the mad attempt. As it was, they clambered upon the figure-head and up the rigging, where, with gaping mouths and staring eyes, they watched the movements of their more fortunate companions.

      Meanwhile the whale had made what appeared to be a grand and final neck-or-nothing rush in the direction of the shore. Of course he was high, although not dry, in a few seconds. That is to say, he got into water so shallow that he stuck fast, with his great head and shoulders raised considerably out of the sea, in which position he began to roll, heave, spout, and lash his mighty tail with a degree of violence that almost approached sublimity.

      He was in these circumstances when the Norsemen came up; for though too shallow for the whale, the water was quite deep enough for the boats.

      Being light, the small boat reached the scene of action first. Krake stood up in the bow to be ready. He held in his hand a curious wooden spear with a loose barb tipped with the tusk of a walrus. It had been procured from one of the Greenland Skraelingers. A rope was attached to it.

      As they drew near, the whale stopped for an instant, probably to recover breath. Krake raised his spear—the fish raised his tail. Whizz! went the spear. Down came the tail with a thunderclap, and next moment mud, sand, water, stones, foam, and blood, were flying in cataracts everywhere as the monster renewed its struggles.

      “Back! back oars!” shouted Biarne, as they were almost swamped by the flood.

      The men obeyed with such good-will that Krake was thrown head-foremost over the bow.

      “Hold fast!” yelled Krake on coming to the surface.

      “If ye had held fast ye wouldn’t have been there,” said Biarne; “where are ye?”

      He rose again out of the foam, yelled, and tossed up his arms.

      “Can the man not swim?” cried Biarne, in alarm; “pull, boys, pull!”

      The men were already pulling with such force that they almost went over the man. As they rubbed past him Hake dropped his oar and caught him by the hair, Biarne leaned over the side and got him by the breeches, and with a vigorous heave they had him inboard.

      “Why, Krake, I thought you could swim!” said Biarne.

      “Ay, so I can, but who could swim with a coil of rope round his neck and legs?”

      The poor man had indeed been entangled in the rope of the spear, so that he could not use his limbs freely.

      No more was said, however, for they were still in dangerous proximity to the tail of the struggling fish, and had to pull out of its way.

      Meanwhile the large boat, profiting by the experience of the small one, had kept more towards the whale’s head, and, before Krake had been rescued, Thorward sent a Skraelinger spear deep into its shoulder. But this only acted as a spur to the huge creature, and made it heave about with such violence that it managed to slew right round with its head offshore.

      At this the men could not restrain a shout of alarm, for they knew that if the whale were to succeed in struggling again into water where it could swim, it would carry away spears and ropes; or, in the event of these holding on, would infallibly capsize and sink the boats.

      “Come, drive in your spears!” shouted Karlsefin in a voice of thunder, for his usually quiet spirit was now deeply stirred.

      Thorward and one of the men threw their spears, but the latter missed and the former struck his weapon into a part that was too thick to do much injury, though it was delivered with great force and went deep.

      “This will never do!” cried Karlsefin, leaping up; “here, Swend, take the helm. Ho! hand me that spear, quick! Now, lads, pull, pull, with heart and limb!”

      As he spoke he sprang like a roused giant into the bow of the boat and caught up a spear. The men obeyed his orders. The boat rushed against the whale’s side, and, with its impetus added to his own Herculean strength, Karlsefin thrust the spear deep down into the monster’s body just behind the shoulder fin.

      The crimson stream that immediately gushed forth besprinkled all in the boat and dyed the sea around.

      “That is his life-blood,” said Karlsefin, with a grim smile; “you may back off now, lads.”

      This was done at once. The small boat was also ordered to back off, and those in it obeyed not a moment too soon, for immediately after receiving the deadly wound the whale went into a violent dying struggle. It soon subsided. There were one or two mighty heavings of the shoulder; then a shudder ran through the huge carcase, and it rolled slowly over in a relaxed manner which told significantly that the great mysterious life had fled.

      Chapter Nine.

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