Now, in those days, the territory of the Holtmaðar1 , as they call themselves, extended from the hills and lakes of the interior all the way to the coast. They spent every winter in the interior hunting caribou and in the summer went down to the coast to fish.

There was a band of thirty or forty Holtmaðar led by a man named U'scna'bew2. His wife's name was Scu'myna'mo3, and they had a several daughters, one of whom was named Mɨnu'tjew4. U'scna'bew was in his early fifties, which for full-blooded humans is the age at which their health begins to seriously decline, but he was an experienced hunter and fisher, and his years had made him a well-respected wise man among his people.

When the time of year came, they travelled by canoe downstream to their summer camp, where they pulled their canoes onto the beach and started unpacking their things. U'scna'bew went to his wigwam and came back to the boats,

“Did you clean out the ashes in our wigwam when we left?” he asked Scu'myna'mo, who was taking a bundle of spears out of one of the canoes;

“Of course I did.” She replied,

“Well, someone left the fireplace full of ashes.”

“It wasn't me.”

“Dad, Mom!” Mɨnu'tjew called to them from the tree line, “You should come see this!” They came over and Mɨnu'tjew showed them a tree with pictures carved into it.

“What's this?” U'scna'bew asked. The bottom part was very clearly two humans or human-like figures shaking hands, but the figures above were much harder to interpret.

“It looks like people waving their arms around.” mused Scu'myna'mo,

“It's a series of dance moves!” Mɨnu'tjew insisted, “Look, this one's throwing his arms down to the left,” she pantomimed what she was saying as she spoke, going from each figure to the next down the line: “then like this,” she splayed both legs and arms out wildly, “then one arm with the elbow up, then both arms up to the left, then one arm up and one down, then both again, and finally ending like this!” She stood with her weight on her right leg with the left extended, while her right arm was held close to her body and her left fist was resting on her hip with the elbow sticking out. “Then the dancers shake hands and part as friends.”

U'scna'bew laughed and said, “Interesting theory, but why would someone want to carve dance moves on a tree?”

“Maybe it was the same person who left a pile of ashes in our wigwam.” Scu'myna'mo suggested,

“But why? Where did this person come from and did they really come here just to teach us some dance moves?”

When the snow melted, it came time for the Vi'nlandiskar to plough the fields and plant the seeds they'd brought from Norway. Now, Gi'sls'tað was not far from the tree line where the forest stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. At that homestead, there lived Si'gvejg, Þo'rvalðr, and He'lgi, and their two younger sisters Þo'rði's and Erma. The other three sisters lived with their husbands, and the huskatnar who'd lived in Gi'sli's house in Norway all had farms of their own in Vi'nland.

Þo'rvalðr marked out a field with wooden stakes. He'lgi carved the runes ᚨᛚ5 (*5: ᚨᛚ are called fe' and lǫ'kt, the runic equivalents of 'F' and 'L'. /fe'/ [fe:]: cattle, livestock, or wealth in general. /lǫ'kt/ [lɒ:kt]: a body of water, can imply the concept of getting lost.*) into each one. Þo'rvalðr asked what was the meaning of defacing his field markers, to which He'lgi replied,

“Haven't you got better things to do than pester me?”

Þo'rði's and Erma then set to work picking rocks out of the field while the two orc-men got a plough and a pair of oxen. Tilling land that had never been tilled before took days of hard work. One day, as the two were toiling away, Ulvrin' came riding on a reindeer.

The orc-men paused with their backs to the forest and He'lgi said to Þo'rvalðr, “Hey, check this out.”

“Check what out?” Þo'rvalðr watched as Ulvrin' attempted to ride up to them, but as his reindeer approached the invisible line between two of the field markers, she veered to the side. Ulvrin' tried to make the reindeer ride into the untilled part of the field, but she wouldn't do it. After trying several times, Ulvrin' dismounted and approached on foot.

“I can't understand it. She's never been afraid of oxen before.” He said with a glance back at his reindeer. Þo'rvalðr looked at He'lgi, who looked back with a gleam his eye. “Anyway,” Ulvrin' went on, “I was just on my way to see if Si'gvejg has any spare seeds Jo'fava could use for her garden this year and I stopped by to see how things are going over here.”

“Oh fine, fine.” Replied Þo'rvalðr. They looked over the field and chatted amiably for a few minutes until a breeze came from the forest and washed over them. Ulvrin' fell silent and sniffed the air.

“Don't look now,” he said, “but we're being watched by two men in the trees.”

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“What? Where?” Asked He'lgi;

“Just behind you.”

Þo'rvalðr turned around and, going to edge of the field, shouted, “Hey! Come and watch us face to face, if you're man enough!”

He'lgi sighed and rubbed his forehead, but Ulvrin' said, “Oh well. If they intended to attack us, I suspect they would have done so already.”

Minutes passed, but Þo'rvalðr didn't take his eyes off the trees. Finally, two men emerged and approached them. They were beardless, but had hair that brushed their shoulders, and their skin was dark from the sun. They wore pants and long tunics that touched their knees, both white and made from animal skins with coloured lines and other patterns adorning them. Each man carried a bow and managed to look relaxed but also prepared to use it at a moment's notice. They looked Þo'rvalðr and He'lgi over carefully, then looked behind them at the plough and oxen.

“U'scna'bew.” One them introduced himself,

“U'snǫ'be'.” Þo'rvalðr said; the man shook his head and repeated slowly:

“U'scna'bew.”

“U'snǫ'be'.” Þo'rvalðr repeated. The man shook his head but said nothing, so Þo'rvalðr introduced himself: “Þo'rvalðr.”

“Shu'dehsan.” The man said and smiled. The other man called himself Na'nɨmyswa't6.

When introductions were finished, the two beardless men relaxed somewhat and U'scna'bew went over to examine the plough, oxen, and furrows. He asked many questions in the Holtmaðr language which He'lgi tried to answer. He pointed at the furrows and pantomimed spreading seeds into them.

“He'lgi, stop throwing your arms around in the air, you look like a fool.” said Þo'rvalðr,

“Well, I should be going.” Ulvrin' announced;

“Tell Mother we're going to have three extra mouths for lunch!” Þo'rvalðr told him,

“Oh, I can't stay for lunch, I need to get back home, but thanks for the offer. I'll tell her you're having two guests over though.” Ulvrin' went outside the field and whistled, whereupon his reindeer came over. He mounted and left.

U'scna'bew and Na'nɨmyswa't stared in shock and spoke to each other at length after he was gone. He'lgi then explained with hand signals that soon they would have lunch and the two of them were invited. They seemed to get the message, so Þo'rvalðr and He'lgi went back to tilling the field while the two men watched. Na'nɨmyswa't leaned down and picked some chives to chew on.

When lunch time came, they stopped working and led the two beardless men to the house where they washed their hands and faces in a barrel of water. As they were doing so, the door opened and Si'gvejg glared at them;

“You invited two strange men to lunch without asking, and intend to bring them in here with my daughters?” She asked;

“Yes.” Said Þo'rvalðr,

“Mother, it's the hospitable thing to do.” He'lgi added, “Besides, they wouldn't try anything with Þo'rvalðr and me watching them.”

Si'gvejg sighed, “Very well. Come on in.”

Þo'rvalðr waved at the two beardless men and followed them inside. They looked around the inside with interest: the house the Vi'nlandiskar had built the previous fall was small and had only one room. It was long and made from logs with a fireplace in the centre of it. Next to that were roughly-built table and benches and along the length of the house were shelves and piles of dried grass and blankets where the family slept.

For food, Si'gvejg had only watery soup with a little bread and cheese, which the beardless men eyes with suspicion, but ate when the Vi'nlandiskar did. Na'nɨmyswa't took the chives he'd picked and put them on the bread and cheese, but before he could take a bite, U'scna'bew snatched them away. Holding the chives in a clump, he pointed at the Vi'nlandiskar, then at the clump, which he then held below the table and slowly rose them up and stopped with the bottom ends level with the table. He was speaking the whole time and seemed to be emphasising the word “Kaja'si'dge'sct.” He pointed at the Vi'nlandiskar and repeated, “Kaja'si'dge'sct.”

“What's he trying to say?” asked Si'gvejg,

“I think he's trying to say that we grow plants.” He'lgi suggested.

U'scna'bew went on, pointing to himself and saying, “Ka'nehdaw.” then to Na'nɨmyswa't and said it again, then he waved his arm expansively out the window toward the tree line and said, “Ka'nehdawt.” and went on with other words while gesticulating incoherently.

“What's he saying now?” asked Si'gvejg,

“He must be saying this land is called Ka'nehda.” He'lgi said conclusively. And so the land west of Miðgarþt became known as Ka'nehda to this day, although the part of it that was settled by orc-men continued to be called Vi'nland.

U'scna'bew and Na'nɨmyswa't parted with the strangers on good terms and returned home where the entire band gathered together to hear what they had to say of the newcomers.

“It seems they make a living by planting seeds in the ground and harvesting the plants.” U'scna'bew said,

“So they're farmers. Like the Nehdɨmjun'or7?” asked Mɨnu'tjew,

“They're farmers, I think, but not like the Nehdɨmjun'or. They were digging trenches in the ground with a contraption being pulled by two monstrous beasts like nothing I've ever seen.” U'scna'bew went on to describe the oxen and Na'nɨmyswa't told them about the pale man with colourful clothing who'd ridden a caribou, which everyone found hard to believe. “I explained to them that they're farmers and we're hunters, we need the forest to hunt in, but they're welcome to use the plains for farming on.” U'scna'bew finished.

That night and the following day, U'scna'bew and Na'nɨmyswa't became very sick. The healer couldn't identify the illness definitely, but thought it to be food poisoning. In those days, they didn't know that Holtmaðar can't drink milk or eat milk products.