Free New Found Land by John Christopher

time going further away from his.
    At least the weather was good; the sun rose out of a calm sea and the wind stayed fair. Rowing was unnecessary, and they closed the shutters over the oar-ports. It would have all been very pleasant, Simon thought, but for the two melancholy ones on their hands. Having had small success with Bos, they turned their attentions to Lundiga. She seemed not to respond at first, and Simon gave up on it. Brad persisted, trying to divert her with talk of the wonderful land of California which was their eventual destination. Lack of response did not seem to bother him; in fact Simon had a feeling he was talking as much for his own satisfaction as hers.
    At any rate he went on and on with his account of the wonders of this earthly paradise, and itproduced a sudden and unexpected result when Lundiga burst into laughter.
    â€œYou are better than our Viking men,” she said, “with their stories of the whales they almost caught. Go on, little Bradus. I like hearing you talk.”
    When he protested that he was giving a true account, she shook her fur-hatted head, smiling, and said it was no shame to tell tall tales: all men did. The hat completed an outfit which had quite transformed her appearance. She had bound her breasts under the shapeless coat of skins they all wore, and had the look more of a husky boy than a girl. In the middle of the day, with the sun quite warm, Simon tried to persuade her at least to take the hat off, but she refused.
    â€œIt is not proper.”
    Simon was tired of hearing the phrase, but he was beginning to understand the ironclad prejudices of the Viking women. Her infatuation with Brad might have persuaded her to come away with them, but that did not mean she was willing to relax tribal conventions. Quite the reverse, probably. Her amusement over Brad’s stories of California was a part of that outlook. She came from long generations of women who had cared for their drunken fecklessmenfolk with a mixture of affection and contempt.
    They kept a course of south-southwest, and were reasonably confident of holding to it. The sun rose and set in the right places, and by night the polestar was properly fixed in the starboard stern quarter. Bos’s guess was that they were covering something like two hundred miles in twenty-four hours. On the morning of the third day, the breeze had moderated and lost the last of its chilly edge. Simon saw a flash of distant silver which might have been a flying fish. They agreed they had come far enough south, and towards the end of the morning altered course to sail west.
    Land—Brad guessed South Carolina—became visible in late afternoon, a dark edge to the sun-speckled horizon which gradually broadened. They entered a flattened arc of bay, stretching limitlessly north and south. Beyond the beach there was scrub, with wooded land further back. Bos had the tiller and steered straight for the shore. They ground to a shuddering halt in shallow water just as the sun’s rim touched the tops of the trees.
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    They remained with the ship that night and set off inland next morning. They had landed at high tideand the longship was beached above the water level, which was reassuring. If the present exploration proved unpromising, it might be possible to retrace their steps and use it to find a different landfall.
    To start with, the going was easy, over fairly level ground covered with coarse grass and bushes. They had their first check after about three hours, when they reached a river. As it was flowing only slightly south of west, it made sense to follow it. After a couple of miles, though, it abruptly changed direction to due south. Simon was for staying with it, and Bos, who had perked up remarkably since they got back on dry land, agreed. But Brad pointed out that it seemed shallow enough to wade, and insisted on crossing. It was important not to get sidetracked from their westerly