In the night the wind freshened, and the long shallow boats rolled filthily so that the teeth shook in a man's head, and over the swish of the waves and the creaking of the sheets there was a perpetual din of arms clashing.
Biorn was miserably ill for some hours, and made sport for the seasoned voyagers.
"It will not hold," Leif prophesied.

"I smell rime ahead and quiet seas." He had spoken truly, for the sixth day the wind fell and they moved once more over still, misty waters.

The thralls returned to their oars and the voices of the well-born fell low again These were ghoulish days for Biorn, who had been accustomed to the clear lights and the clear darkness of his own land.

Only once in four days they saw the sun, and then it was as red as blood, so that his heart trembled.
On the eleventh day Ironbeard summoned Leif and asked his skill of the voyage.

"I know not," was the answer.