The Icelandic Canadian - 01.04.1988, Qupperneq 28

26
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
SPRING, 1988
landers, with an Icelandic captain, engineer
and crew. And the lumber which was on the
barge had been sawed in the North on Lake
Winnipeg by Icelandic mill workers in a
mill also owned by Icelanders. I thought the
boat much more beautiful and much faster
than it had been before I found out that
Icelanders owned and navigated it.
At that time it was very rare that Ice-
landers in America were anything but poor
settlers in the bushlands or simple day la-
bourers. By and large, Winnipeg Icelanders
worked at hard labour, carrying the bricks
and mortar for most buildings and shovelling
mud and sand. They were thought to be
good workers and the most energetic of
men, and earned a reputation for endurance
and industry. They acquitted themselves
well, and with prudence and care were
gradually able to cease the heavy, unskilled
labour. Now many of them are craftsmen,
others highly-esteemed businessmen and
important farmers, some are office workers
and highly-paid professional men, and a
few have been elected to the legislature.
Other foreigners have accepted the shovels
and lime troughs from them and have inher-
ited the heavy labour.
Anna and I walked back and forth along
the river bank for a while. Now and again, I
glanced at Arndr. He was still sitting in the
same spot staring out at the river. Occasion-
ally he looked over his shoulder and gazed
up along the street as if he were expecting
someone from that direction. I thought he
didn’t look well and I pitied him.
“Is he often so strange?” I said to Anna.
“Yes, often,” she said. “He is so heavy-
hearted and full of daydreams that it is truly
a problem. He never works at the same place
more than a few days. At the least little
happening, he runs away from his job. Yet,
what is most peculiar is the number of times
he disappears.”
“Does he sometimes disappear?” I said,
looking wide-eyed at Anna.
“Yes, that is what seems to us to be the
most pitiful of all. He is sometimes away for
a whole week and no one knows anything
about him.”
“Does he drink?” I asked.
“We haven’t noticed that,” said Anna,
“but it could be that he is on a drunken spree
when he is away. Still, he appears well when
he returns and is in quite good spirits for a
while after. He disappeared this last time
about the middle of the month. He went
west into town late one evening and didn’t
come home for five days. He disappeared
twice more this spring and was three days
away one time and almost a whole week the
other. Each time he has disappeared, Kjartan
and Bjorn have asked Icelanders about him,
for Kjartan knows all the Icelanders in
town, and also they have asked the police,
but no one knew anything; in fact few people
know him, for he came to town only last
fall.”
“Haven’t you asked him where he has
been when he returns home?” I said.
“Yes, many, many times, but he never
says anything about it.”
“Does he have any relatives here in
America?”
“Not here in Winnipeg. But he was in
New York after he came from Iceland and
he could have some family there. However,
he told Mother that his parents were long
dead and that he had one sister in Iceland.”
“Does he pay his board promptly?” I
asked.
“Yes, he always pays in advance for a full
week.”
“And do you have the least idea what he
is doing when he is away?”
“No, not the slightest. But Kjartan thinks
he is in some kind of secret society and has
to go South to the States now and again to
attend the meetings.”
“This is all very strange and mysterious,”
I said.
“Yes, extremely puzzling,” said Anna.
Then we began to talk of other things and
a little later, walked home. But ArnOr sat on