some story of the marvels of this new land, or some sample
of its productions strange to their eyes.

An evening came in which one of the explorers failed to
return. He had either disobeyed the injunctions of Leif and
gone too far to get back by evening, or some peril of that
unknown land had befallen him. This man was of German birth,
Tyrker by name, a southerner who had for years dwelt with
Eirek and been made the foster-father of Leif, who had been
fond of him since childhood. He was a little,
wretched-looking fellow, with protruding forehead, unsteady
eyes, and tiny face, yet a man skilled in all manner of
handicraft.

Leif, on learning of his absence, upbraided the men bitterly
for losing him, and called on twelve of them to follow him
in search. Into the forest they went, and before long had
the good fortune to behold Tyrker returning. The little
fellow, far from showing signs of disaster, was in the
highest of spirits, his face radiant with joy.

"How now, foster-father!" cried Leif. "Why are you so late?
and why have you parted from the others?"

Tyrker was too excited to answer. He rolled his eyes wildly
and made wry faces. When words came to him, he spoke in his
native German, which none of them understood. Joy seemed to
have driven all memory of the language of the north from his
mind. It was plain that no harm had come to him. On the
contrary, he seemed to have stumbled upon some landfall of