Newly clad from head to foot in a scarlet suit of King Olaf's giving,
Leif stood aft by the great steering oar. The wind blew out his long
hair in a golden banner. The sun splintered its lances upon his gilded
helm. Upon his breast shone the silver crucifix that had been Olaf's
parting gift. His hand was still warm from the clasp of his King's; no
chill at his heart warned him that those hands had met for the last
time, no thought was in him that he had looked his last upon the noble
face he loved. Gazing out over the tumbling blue waves, he thought
exultantly of the time when he should come sailing back, with task
fulfilled, to receive the thanks of his King.

Bravely and merrily the little ship parted from the land and set forth
upon her journey. Every man sat in his place upon the rowing-benches;
every back bent stoutly to the oar. Dripping crystals and flashing in
the sun, the polished blades rose and fell, as the "Sea-Deer" bounded
forward. To those upon her decks, the mass of scarlet cloaks upon the
pier merged into a patch of flame, and then became a fiery dot. The
sunny plain of the city and the green slope of the camp dwindled and
faded; towering cliffs closed about and hid them from the rowers' view.

Leaving the broad elbow of the fiord, they soon entered the narrow arm
that ran in from the sea, like a silver lane between giant walls.
Passing out with the tide, they reached the ocean. The salt wind smote
their faces; the snowy sail drew in a long glad breath and swelled out
with a throb of exultation, and the world of waters closed around their
little craft.

It was a beautiful world, full of the shifting charms of color and of
motion, of the joy of sun and wind; but Alwin found it a wearily busy
world for him. Since he was not needed at the oars, they gave him the