THE FLYING VIKING
“I’m bored! How much longer till we get there?”
Ragnar’s mum Gunilla stood at the stern of the little ship, holding the steering oar in an iron grip. She was a PROPER Viking! If she felt the chill of the icy wind, she did not show it – she was as strong and solid as a mighty pine tree!
“It’ll be at least three more days until we reach Greenland. Cheer up!
We’re having lutefisk for dinner this evening!”
Ragnar’s face turned a little greener, and he gagged. His mum said lutefisk was good for growing boys and tasted quite nice once you got used to it.
