Right in the mouth of the creek there was an island which they named Streamsey, because the currents about it were so many and so strong. It fairly swarmed with sea-birds, which hung over it like a cloud. It was very difficult to find a passage, but they managed that with hard rowing, and once past it, found plenty of water, and a noble country on either hand. They went up three days sailing, and there, where the woods fell more sparse and there seemed plenty of herbage for cattle, Karlsefne decided to make his winter quarters. The stock was disembarked; the stores, and the tents. They built themselves a stockade all round the camp, and hoped to have a good winter of it.

The winter came late, but was severe. There was great scarcity of pasture, the fishing fell off; they had to kill some of their cattle, but dared not depend upon that. There was trouble with some of the crew, begun by Thorhall the Huntsman, who began to preach heathenry to them, getting a few at a time in the woods and talking, and singing old songs. Karlsefne was full of business all this time, with parties out exploring the country, and so did not see what was going on in and about the camp. Then, one day, news was brought him that a whale had come into the creek and was stranded in shoal water. The men, short as they were of food, were eager to get at it. Karlsefne went out to see it—a huge beast, greyish and arched in the back. He did not know what sort of a whale it was, but the men were set upon it, and Thorhall vehement. "Get at it, get at it—what do you fear, man? I tell you it is a godsend," he said. He had been very queer in his ways for a week or more, and one day had been found upon a cliff overhanging the water, with his arms stiffly out, his chin towards the sky. His eyes had been shut, his mouth open, his nostrils splayed out. He had writhed and twisted about, talking in a strange tongue. They were some time bringing him to his senses, and had no thanks from him for doing it; but they had fetched him home and put him to bed. He had lain there with his head covered up until the news of the whale was brought in. That caused him to leap out of his bed. He was the most eager of them all to cut up the great beast.

Karlsefne gave the word, and they fell on the whale with hatchets and knives. Soon the pots were bubbling and the steam filling their nostrils. Karlsefne would not eat of it, and would not allow Gudrid any; but the rest made a feast. It was rich and savoury, very fat; this was the hour of Thorhall's triumph. He came and stood by the messes as they ate, with gleaming eyes. "Does this not prove to you that Redbeard was your friend? What had your white Christ brought you but death and misery? Now by my incantations I have brought Thor round to look on you with favour again. This is my doing, and your leader here thought I was mad and tied me down to a bed."

Some men stopped eating as they heard him; some turned away and would not begin to eat. Karlsefne, when he knew what was going on, came down like a flame of fire. "What is this he says? That this is his doing—with prayers to Thor? And you of the new faith and the true faith, eat of what he offers to his idols! Cast that beastliness to the sea, and be done with it." Some of the eaters were ill already, and many were to be so; but Karlsefne was obeyed. The cauldrons were emptied over the cliffs, and the birds gathered from all quarters. They went hungry, and suffered much that winter; but by leading the cattle far into the woods they managed to keep them alive, and Gudrid did not fail of milk. Her boy was born on Christmas Eve, and christened by Karlsefne himself. He named him Snorre after his own grandfather.

After that things went better. There came rain which broke up the ice and thinned off all the snow. They began to get fish again; mild westerly winds enabled them to go farther afield. Biorn came up from his anchorage to see Karlsefne, and debates about the future were renewed.

Karlsefne was now bent on going south, and Biorn, with Thorhall, equally set upon the north. It was clear that the two ships must part company; and so they did as soon as the spring weather was come. The tale has little more to say of Biorn and his party. It is supposed that they fell in with bad weather in the north, and that they were driven over the ocean. Thorhall was heard of long afterwards in Ireland, as having fought and died there.