At Oddeyri there was another store of great importance to the natives, viz., a large meat preserving place, where great preparations were in active progress for the coming winter.

Not far distant from here lives a very remarkable man, a self-taught artist of considerable power, who has never been out of the Island, consequently has but rarely seen a picture, and yet his artistic instincts and power of representation are of no mean order; and more especially displayed in his altar pieces. I wonder what he would say to those of Rubens or Vandyck! This man has the greatest love of animals, and was surrounded, when we visited him, by a number of dogs of the Icelandic breed, small animals closely resembling the Pomeranian, with long coats and sharp stand-up ears, which always give a knowing look to the canine head. Most of them seemed to be black, though not a few were a rich sable brown. They are pretty beasts. I don't believe there is a cat in the Island, leastways we never saw one, wild or tame, during our sojourn there. The domesticated cat, fowls, and pigs are practically unknown in these climes.

Some 20 miles from Akureyri once lived another interesting man, Sira Jon Thorlackson, a well-known native poet, many of whose verses are dear to his countrymen; in his lifetime he undertook and accomplished a translation of Milton's 'Paradise Lost.'

There are some 20,000 specimens of butterflies scattered over the world, and yet in Iceland these species are unknown, although insects of certain kinds do exist, especially mosquitos, as we learnt to our cost. Although there are no butterflies, and but few insects, flowers abound.

An Agricultural College has lately been established in the vicinity of Akureyri, the headmaster having formerly been one of the librarians of the Advocates' Library in Edinburgh. No doubt the natives will learn to drain their bogs and swamps, level their frost mounds, and produce more out of the earth than at present, with the help of this much needed institution.

How terribly soon that curse of modern civilisation, drunkenness, spreads! It was Sunday when we first landed at Akureyri, and I am sorry to say not a few of its inhabitants had imbibed more corn brandy than was good for them; it seemed to have the effect of making them maudlingly affectionate, or else anxious to wrestle with everybody.

The two days the Camoens lay off Akureyri gave us no time for prolonged excursions, but was more than sufficient to lionise the little town, so we were not sorry when the steamer's whistle summoned us to return to our floating home.

Ten hours' further journey and our anchor was dropped opposite Sauderkrok, an even smaller town than Akureyri, with its 1000 inhabitants, but which interested us more from its very primitive population, If the reader will follow the steamer's course in the map, he will find Sauderkrok marked in its direct course.



CHAPTER V.

HISTORICAL NOTES.

Before proceeding to narrate more of our own experiences of Iceland, I have ventured to collate the following memoranda of the early history of the Island, from Mr George Lock's, F.R.G.S., 'Guide to Iceland,' a most valuable appendage to a traveller's luggage in that Island; the few notes gathered from its pages and other guide-books will enable my readers to follow my narrative with greater interest; whilst I trust this open acknowledgment of my piracy will be forgiven.

* * * * *

It has been ascertained that before the year 874 Iceland was almost an uninhabited Island, being occupied only by a few natives, Culdee Monks, who having seceded from the Roman Catholic faith, retired there for safety and quiet.

Prior to its settlement it was circumnavigated by a Swede, who landed, it is said, and wintered there, and in 868, Flóki Vilgertharsson, a mighty Viking, visited it, who gave it the present name of Iceland.

The first permanent settlers were of the Norse race; two men who, banished from their country, fitted out a ship and sailed to Iceland, where in 874 they made a settlement in the south of the island.

Later Harold Haarfager, a tyrannical and warlike spirit, who was fast extending his kingdom over Norway, so offended many of his subjects, among them several powerful chiefs, that the latter, to avoid further warfare, quitted the land of their birth, and went to settle in Iceland.

This emigration in due time peopled it, until sixty years later its population was calculated at 50,000, which has now increased to 72,000. Most of the settlers came from Norway, supplemented by a few from the Orkneys, Scotland, and Ireland. One of the fjords bears the name of 'Patrick's Fjord,' after an Irish Bishop.

The climate of Iceland at this early date seems to have been a far more moderate one than at the present time, a fact established by scientific research.

In the early days of the Island, the Norse chiefs who took possession of it appropriated to themselves large tracts of country, distributing them among their own retainers; these latter in return swore allegiance to their separate chiefs, undertaking to support them in their private quarrels, whilst they were themselves in this manner protected from aggression.

Every Norse chieftain of any note established a 'Hof' or Temple in his own lands, whilst the yearly sacrificial feasts were supported by a tax gathered from the people. Each chief reigned supreme within his own jurisdiction, and could take life or confiscate property at will. At given periods these feudal rulers met to discuss affairs of importance, or to promulgate laws for the better government of the community; but they had no written laws, or any general accepted body of lawgivers, hence, as may easily be supposed, constant differences of opinion existed, which per force was settled by an appeal to arms. Such a state of things, where 'might became right,' could not continue long amid such a warlike nation as the Norsemen, and in 926 the principal chiefs of the Island took steps to form a Commonwealth, and established a code of laws for its government. It was for some time a question where this primitive national assembly should meet, and finally a rocky enclosure, situated in a sunken plain, cut off by deep rifts from the surrounding country, was selected. This spot, so romantic in position, so safe from intrusion, so associated with the early government of the Island, was called 'Thingfield,' or 'speaking place'—Thingvaller it is now termed—and here the first Althing was held in 929; at the same period 'Logmen' or law-givers were appointed, to whom universal reference on legal questions was referred.

This 'Althing' combined both the power of a High Parliament and that of a Court of Justice, and before the introduction of Christianity into the Island, its members were called upon to swear upon a sacred ring, brought for the purpose from the temple of the High Priest, to administer both 'with justice and clemency.'

About the time William of Normandy invaded England, Godred Crovan, son of Harold the Black of Iceland, conquered the Isle of Man, in whose family it remained for some centuries. Probably through this Norse connection the custom of proclaiming the laws to the people in this latter Isle from a hill in the open air was first introduced, although now discarded by the Althing in Iceland and in various Northern Isles. In the Isle of Man the laws are still read to the people on 5th July on Tynwald Hill; of late years they have only been read in English, but until 1865 they were also proclaimed in the Manx language (which is nearly related to Gaelic), many of the natives not speaking or even understanding English.

According to Joseph Train's 'Historical Notes on the Isle of Man,' 'the great annual assembly of the Islanders at the Tynwald Hill, on the Feast day of St John the Baptist, is thus described in the Statute Book,—"Our doughtful and gracious Lord, this is the Constitution of old time, the which we have given in our days: First, you shall come thither in your Royal Array, as a King ought to do, by the Prerogatives and Royalties of the Land of Mann; and upon the Hill of Tynwald sitt in a chaire, covered with the royall cloath and cushions, and your visage unto the east, and your sword before you, holden with the point upwards; your barrons in the third degree sitting beside you, and your beneficed men and your Deemsters before you sitting; and your Clarke, Knights, Esquires, and Yeomen, and yeoman about you in the third degree; and the worthiest man in your Land (these are the twenty-four Keys) to be called in before your Deemsters, if you will ask any Thing of them, and to hear the Government of your Land and your will; and the Commons to stand without the circle of the Hill with three Clarkes in their surplisses."'

Even at the present day this ceremony continues in the Isle of Man, as above said. When the officials arrive at the Tynwald Hill, the Governor and Bishops take their seats, surrounded by the Council and the Keys, the people being assembled on the outside to listen.

From the establishment of the Althing until the 11th century, the Icelanders seem to have managed their internal affairs with moderation and discretion; at least little of importance connected with the Island is recorded until the discovery of Greenland by Eric the Red, which subsequently led to that of America, towards the end of the 10th century, by Biono Herioljorm, and before the time of Columbus.

CHRONOLOGICAL DATES.

Colonised, 874.

First Althing sat, 929.

Christianity introduced, 1000.

Snorri Sturlusson murdered, 1241, 22d Sept.

Had a republic and a flourishing literature, till subjected to Hakon, King of Norway, 1264.

Iceland fell under Danish rule, 1380.

Protestantism (Lutheranism) introduced about 1551.

Famine through failure of crops, 1753-54.

Greatest volcanic eruptions, 1783.

New Constitution signed by the King Christian of Denmark on his visit to Iceland when the 1000th anniversary of the colonisation of Iceland was celebrated, 1874, 1 Aug.

Eruption of 1783 destroyed 10,000 men. " " 28,000 ponies. " " 11,500 cows. " " 200,000 sheep.

Latest great eruption 1875.

The following curious custom is copied from Dr Kneeland's book:—

'In their pagan age, it was the custom for the father to determine, as soon as a child was born, whether it should be exposed to death or brought up; and this not because the rearing of a deformed or weak child would deteriorate a race which prided itself on strength and courage, but from the inability of the parents, from poverty, to bring up their offspring. The newly born child was laid on the ground, and there remained untouched until its fate was decided by the father or nearest male relative; if it was to live, it was taken up and carried to the father, who, by placing it in his arms, or covering it with his cloak, made himself publicly responsible for its maintenance. It was then sprinkled with water, and named. This was regarded in pagan times as sacred as the rite of baptism by Christians, and after its performance it was murder to expose it.... The usual mode of desertion was either to place the infant in a covered grave, and there leave it to die, or to expose it in some lonely spot, where wild animals would not be likely to find it. After the introduction of Christianity, such exposure was permitted only in cases of extreme deformity.'

In 997, the first Christian missionary, Thangbrand, landed in Iceland, and preached Christianity to its inhabitants by fire and sword; but the severity with which he tried to enforce his views, failed to convince the people to give up Paganism. Two years later, however, Iceland threw off the heathen yoke, and embraced the Roman Catholic religion. Early in the 11th century, several Icelanders visited Europe to study in its various universities, whilst churches and schools were established in the Island, taught by native bishops and teachers, and with such marvellous rapidity did education spread among the people, that it reached its culminating point in the 13th century, when the literary productions of the Icelanders became renowned through Europe during what was termed the Dark Ages.

'Iceland shone with glorious lore renowned, A northern light when all was gloom around.' Montgomery.

Towards the end of the 12th century the peace of Iceland was broken up by internal struggles for power, which resulted in the loss of its independence. So wide-spread, in fact, had become these internal feuds, that at last some of the chiefs, refusing to submit to have their differences settled by the laws of the country, visited Norway, and solicited the help of its king, Hakon the Old.

Now this king had long been ambitious to annex Iceland to his dominions, and in lieu of settling the disputes brought before him, by an amicable arrangement between the Icelandic chiefs, he only fomented their quarrels, and finally persuaded a number of them to place Iceland under his sceptre. This they agreed to do, and, after much bloodshed, in 1264 Iceland was annexed to Norway, and its far-famed little republic became extinct.

The history of the Island since that date has been a mournful one. Until thirty years since, the conquest of their Island by Norway, left in its train nothing but apathy and discontent among its inhabitants; in fact, the poor Icelanders, when once they realised their loss of independence, seemed to have neither spirit nor power to rise above the state of suicidal slavery into which they had fallen through their political differences.

In 1848, however, an heroic band of patriots combined, and fought bravely to rescue their country from the degrading condition into which it had fallen; but its long subjection to a foreign yoke has left, it is feared, a lasting impression on the character of its inhabitants, and this, combined with their great poverty, has engendered a sadness and soberness of spirit which they seem unable to overcome.

In 1830, Norway was united to Denmark, and Iceland was transferred to the Danish crown. In 1851 the Icelanders threw off the Roman Catholic supremacy, and embraced the Lutheran form of worship.

In 1800 their time-honoured institution, viz., 'The Althing,' was done away with, and for the subsequent forty-three years Danish rule prevailed. In 1843, however, the former state of government was re-established, but only in a very limited form, the power granted to it being but a shadow of its former self, whilst its sittings were removed from the rocky fortress where it had so long held sway, to the capital, Reykjavik, a large stone building having been erected for its deliberations.

In 1848, when Denmark proclaimed its Constitution, the Icelanders in a body petitioned that the full power of the Althing should be restored. For many years this petition was presented in vain, until King Christian visited the Island, signed a new and separate Constitution for Iceland in January 1873, at the same time retaining certain prerogatives.

In size Iceland is somewhat larger than Ireland, its area being calculated at 38,000 square miles. Geographically it lies south of the south of the Arctic Circle, about 650 miles north-west of Duncansby Head. Its eastern, northern, and north-western coasts are deeply indented with a number of narrow fjords, whilst the southern coast, on the contrary, has not a bay or fjord capable of affording a harbour to even a small vessel.

A group of islands, called Westmannaggar, or Irishmen's Isles, lie off the south coast, and in the various bays on its western coast are innumerable smaller islets.

The interior of the Island is mostly a broad barren plateau, from which rise ice-clad mountains and sleeping volcanoes. Its inhabited regions lie along the coast, where there are small tracts which repay cultivation. The area of the lava deserts, viz., tracts of country covered with lava which has flowed down from volcanic mountains, is computed at 2400 square miles, whilst there are 5000 square miles of vast stony uncultivated wastes—nearly one seventh of the entire area—which apparently increase in extent.

The Island consists of 'Toklar,' or glaciers, and coned heights known as 'Vatna Toklar,' 'Läng Tökull,' 'Dranga,' and 'Glamu Toklar,' and a group of mountains called 'Töklar Guny' in the south of the Island.

The area of pasture land all over Iceland is estimated at 15,000 English miles, but a large part of this is moorland, whilst, sad to say, the pasture land is visibly diminishing, and the sandy wastes increasing. This, to a certain extent, is due to the want of industry of the natives.

In 1875 no less than 1000 square miles was buried beneath an eruption of pumice, but it is considered that the action of the frost and rain upon this porous substance will eventually fertilise the soil and permit of its cultivation. Iceland is the most volcanic region of the earth.

The Island has four large lakes and innumerable small rivers, none of which are navigable beyond a short distance from the mouth. It is not possible to enter here at large on the volcanic features of the Island, but a short chapter has been appended at the end of the volume touching on the principal volcanoes, their action and eruptions.



CHAPTER VI.

SAUDERKROK—RIDING.

At a short distance from shore, Sauderkrok, appeared to us at first a most forlorn-looking little settlement, consisting of some few dozen wooden houses and peat hovels. However, on a closer acquaintance with the place, during the two days the steamer remained in port to enable our captain to unload some 200 tons of cargo, we found plenty of things to interest us in the little town.

There being no warehouses, or even sheds, to store the newly arrived goods, they were piled on the beach, and there sold by auction. It was a most amusing scene, the whole population turning out to witness, or take part in, the bidding for the goods thus sold.

The goods were piled up in a half circle, the auctioneer sitting on a table in the middle, assisted by one or two of the chief town's folk. Outside the circle stood men, women, and children from all surrounding parts of the Island; beyond them again, the patient little ponies waiting for the loads they were to carry off inland. Much of the sale was carried on by barter, a system of trading not wholly comprehensible to us strangers, although we saw the natives offer specimens of what they had to exchange. As onlookers, such a novel exhibition afforded a fine field for the study of Icelandic physiognomy, the expressions of anxiety, pleasure, or disappointment being depicted on their faces when the coveted goods were knocked down to the would-be purchaser, or not. To these poor people this must have been a meeting of the greatest importance, as their winter comforts mostly depended thereon; but such is their habitual apathy, that even this great event caused little outward excitement.

No sooner were the goods purchased, than the ship's crew sorted them out, and with the help of an interpreter they were handed over to their owners, some of whom within a few hours were starting off on their homeward journey; a considerable part of the goods, however, still remained on the shore when we left two days later, the purchasers having arranged to return for future loads.

In 1883 the imports amounted to £337,000, from bread, groceries, wines, beer, spirits, tobacco, and stuffs. Trade has been open to all nations since 1854.

THE EXPORTS OF ICELAND IN 1887.

Salted cod cwt. 112,201 value £138,506 Other salted fish " 57,226 " 46,810 Salted herring barrels 27,096 " 20,000 " salmon cwt. 218 " 763 Cod oil barrels 1,215 " 2,738 Shark oil " 7,508 " 22,524 Seal oil " 121 " 336 Whale oil " 230 " 460 Ponies numbers 3,476 " 10,428 Sheep " 10,000 " 10,000 Wool cwt. 12,134 " 47,561 Salted mutton " 9,336 " 11,968 Eider down lbs. 7,149 " 5,415

besides woollen stockings and gloves, skins, feathers, tallow, dried fish, sounds, and roes.

Sauderkrok was to witness a new experiment in our mounting arrangements. On our arrival, as usual we intended riding into the interior, and applied at the only inn in the place for ponies, when to our discomfiture we learnt no such thing as a lady's side-saddle was to be obtained. The innkeeper and our party held a long consultation as to what was to be done, during which the inhabitants of the place gathered round us in full force, apparently much interested in our proceedings.

At last one of the lookers-on disappeared, and presently returned in triumph with a chair-saddle, such as already described, used by the native women. This was assigned to Miss T. No second one, however, was obtainable, and I had to choose between remaining behind or overcoming the difficulties of riding lady fashion on a man's saddle. My determination was quickly taken, and much to the amusement of our party, up I mounted, the whole village stolidly watching the proceeding, whilst the absence of pommel contributed considerably to the difficulty I had in keeping my seat.

Off we started, headed by our guide, and as long as the pony walked I felt very comfortable in my new position, so much so that I ventured to try a trot, when round went the saddle and off I slipped. Vaughan came to my rescue, and after readjusting the saddle, and tightening the girths, I remounted, but only with the same result. How was I to get along at this rate?

I had often read that it was the custom for women in South America, and in Albania, who have to accomplish long distances on horseback, to ride man fashion. Indeed, women rode so in England, until side-saddles were introduced by Anne of Bohemia, wife of Richard II., and many continued to ride across the saddle until even a later date. In Iceland I had seen women ride as men, and felt more convinced than ever that this mode was safer and less fatiguing. Although I had ridden all my life, the roughness of the Icelandic roads and ponies made ladywise on a man's saddle impossible, and the sharpness of the pony's back, riding with no saddle equally so. There was no alternative: I must either turn back, or mount as a man. Necessity gives courage in emergencies. I determined therefore to throw aside conventionality, and do in 'Iceland as the Icelanders do.' Keeping my brother at my side, and bidding the rest ride forward, I made him shorten the stirrups, and hold the saddle, and after sundry attempts succeeded in landing myself man fashion on the animal's back. The position felt very odd at first, and I was also somewhat uncomfortable at my attitude, but on Vaughan's assuring me there was no cause for my uneasiness, and arranging my dress so that it fell in folds on either side, I decided to give the experiment a fair trial, and in a very short time got quite accustomed to the position, and trotted along merrily. Cantering was at first a little more difficult, but I persevered, and in a couple of hours was quite at home in my new position, and could trot, pace, or canter alike, without any fear of an upset. The amusement of our party when I overtook them, and boldly trotted past, was intense; but I felt so comfortable in my altered seat that their derisive and chaffing remarks failed to disturb me. Perhaps my boldness may rather surprise my readers; but after full experience, under most unfavourable circumstances, I venture to put on paper the result of my experiment.



Riding man-fashion is less tiring than on a side-saddle, and I soon found it far more agreeable, especially when traversing rough ground. My success soon inspired Miss T. to summon up courage and follow my lead. She had been nearly shaken to pieces in her chair pannier, besides having only obtained a one-sided view of the country through which she rode; and we both returned from a 25 mile ride without feeling tired, whilst from that day till we left the Island, we adopted no other mode of travelling. I am quite sure had we allowed conventional scruples to interfere, we should never have accomplished in four days the 160 miles' ride to the Geysers, which was our ultimate achievement.

I may here mention our riding costume. We had procured very simply made thick blue serge dresses before leaving home, anticipating rough travelling. The skirts being full and loose, hung well down on either side when riding, like a habit on the off and near sides, and we flattered ourselves that, on the whole, we looked both picturesque and practical. Our very long waterproof boots (reaching above the knee) proved a great comfort when fording rivers, which in an Iceland ride are crossed every few miles, sometimes oftener. For the rest, we wore ordinary riding attire.

The crooked position of a side-saddle—for one must sit crooked to look straight—is very fatiguing to a weak back, and many women to whom the exercise would be of the greatest benefit, cannot stand the strain; so this healthy mode of exercise is debarred them, because Society says they must not ride like men. Society is a hard task-master. Nothing is easier than to stick on a side-saddle, of course, and nothing more difficult than to ride gracefully.

For comfort and safety, I say ride like a man. If you have not courage to do this, in visiting Iceland take your own side-saddle and bridle (for a pony), as, except in Reykjavik, horse furniture is of the most miserable description, and the constant breakages cause many delays, while there are actually no side-saddles, except in the capital, and a chair is an instrument of torture only to be recommended to your worst enemy.

On one occasion, while the rest of the party were settling and arranging about ponies, which always occupied some time, I sat down to sketch on a barrel of dried fish, and was at once surrounded by men, women, and children, who stood still and stared, beckoning to all their passing friends to join them, till quite a crowd collected.

They seemed to think me a most extraordinary being. The bolder ones of the party ventured near and touched me, feeling my clothes, discussed the material, and calmly lifted my dress to examine my high riding-boots, a great curiosity to them, as they nearly all wear the peculiar skin shoes already described. The odour of fish not only from the barrel on which I was seated, but also from my admiring crowd, was somewhat appalling as they stood around, nodding and chatting to one another.

Their interest in my sketch was so great I cannot believe they had ever seen such a thing before, and I much regretted my inability to speak their language, so as to answer the many questions I was asked about it all. I fancied they were satisfied, however, for before going away, they one and all shook hands with me, till my hand quite ached from so many friendly grasps.

The men in Iceland always kiss one another when they meet, as also do the women, but I only once saw a man kiss a woman!

'Snuffing' is a great institution. The snuff is kept in a long box, like a gourd, often a walrus tooth, with a long brass mouth. This they put right up the nostril, turning the head to do so—a very dirty and uncouth habit, but one constantly indulged in by both sexes. They also smoke a great deal. On one occasion Vaughan gave a guide some tobacco. He took it, filled his pipe, and put it back in his pocket, shaking his head as much as to say he could not light his pipe in the wind. This dilemma was overcome by Vaughan offering a fusee. The man took it, looked at it, and grinned. So Vaughan showed him how to use it, and struck a light. His astonishment and amusement were so overwhelming that he got off his pony, and rolled about on the ground with delight. He had evidently never seen such a curiosity before.

We rode to Reykir, 10 or 12 miles from Sauderkrok, where there are hot springs. The road was very bad, and it took us nearly three hours to accomplish the distance, but this may be partly accounted for by our stopping every half-hour to mend some one's broken harness. My only girth, a dilapidated old thing, was mended with string, and when trotting along soon after starting, the saddle and I both rolled off together, the only fall I have ever had in my life, and from a little Icelandic pony too! I was thoroughly disgusted at the accident, and my want of balance. However, I soon had occasion to comfort myself on my easy fall, when our guide and pony turned three complete somersaults down a hill, the man disappearing. But he soon rolled out from beneath the animal, shook himself, and mounted once again. How every bone in his body was not broken I can't imagine, so rough and strewn with lava boulders, was the ground on which he fell.

Shortly after our party had left Sauderkrok, a young Icelander was noticed riding after us, and when my fall occurred, he advanced towards us politely, and offered me the use of his pony and saddle, which I gratefully accepted, and he mounted mine, riding without any girths, and gracefully balancing himself in a most marvellous manner. This new addition to our party proved a very valuable one, as he talked English perfectly, and was most intelligent and communicative. He told us he was on his way to Copenhagen to study languages, preparatory to trying for a professorship at Reykjavik, and we found he had already mastered English, French, Latin, and Danish. His name never transpired, but we learnt that as soon as the news reached him that an English party had landed and started for 'Reykir,' he had saddled a pony and ridden after us, wanting to see what we were like, and also to endeavour to make our acquaintance, and thus be able to air his English with English people, for until then he had never spoken it except with his teacher. My fall gave him the opportunity he wanted, as he was then able to offer his services without intrusion, which he did with the politest manners.

The Icelanders are a wonderfully well-educated people. Our new friend told us he did not believe there was a man or woman in the Island who could not read and write, and certainly on our visits to the various farm-houses, we never failed to notice a Lutheran Bible, and many of the old 'Sagas,' by native poets, beside translations of such works as Shakespear, Göethe, John Stuart Mill's 'Political Economy,' and other well-known writings.

Icelandic is the oldest of the present German dialects, being purer than the Norwegian of to-day, and its literature dates from 1057, immediately after the introduction of writing.

The literature has been ascertained to be of so deeply interesting a character, that the fact of establishing an 'Icelandic Chair' in one of our Universities is now, I believe, under consideration. Many of the natives speak, and understand, Danish—indeed the laws are read to them in that language; and between Danish and Icelandic, we ladies succeeded in making our German understood. Icelandic is now given with English and Anglo-Saxon as optional subjects for the examination at Cambridge for the Modern Language Tripos.

Appended are a few Icelandic sentences, which we found useful in our travels. They are spelt phonetically, as we learnt a few phrases from such of the guides as could speak a little English.

G. C. Locke, in his most interesting work 'The Home of the Eddas,' in speaking of Icelandic literature, says, 'Might not some of the hours so fruitlessly spent in misinterpreting incomprehensible Horace be more fitly devoted to the classics of Northern Europe?... Snovri Sturluson the author of the "Elder Edda," has no compeer in Europe.'

Can you lend us any ponies? Getithir launath okir hesta?

Can you give us five ponies? Getithir launath okir fim hesta?

No; I cannot lend you so Neg; jeg getiki launath many. īkur (īdhur when speaking to one person) sō mārga.

I can give you two. Jeg gyet launath tvōa.

How many? Kwādh mārga?

Thank you; please bring Thākur fir (or tāk) Kurisō vel them. ath Kwawma meth.

How long will you be Kwā lengi verthidh fīr (thīeth, away? when speaking to more than one) bŭrtū?

We shall come back after Vīeth Kwawmim āftur riding six hours. eftarath hāver rēdhith īsechstūna.

Where is Reykir? Kwāreru Rēikir?

You are not going the right Thīer fārith eki rēhtir lēdh. way.

You must go back a little Thīer verdhith afara til paka way. taulitith.

Our young Icelandic student was very proud of the native Sagas, and justly so. They are works highly esteemed, and of interest to the scholar, embodying the history of the Island, tales of its former chiefs, their laws, their feuds, their adoption of Christianity, the sittings of the Althing, great volcanic eruptions, handed down by word of mouth from generation to generation, until the pastors and learned men committed them to manuscript. They are also full of the most romantic adventures, stirring incidents, and courageous assaults, dear to the heart of every Icelander, and treasured by them as a record of their country's history and its people's hardihood.



CHAPTER VII.

REYKIR.

On arriving at Reykir, our guide conducted us to his own dwelling, a fair-sized farm, where he and his wife resided with all their mutual relations, this being the custom in Iceland. In this case they included the wife, her father, mother, grandfather, and sister on the one side; the husband, his two brothers, sister, and mother on the other. Quite a happy little community, as the couple themselves were also blessed with several children.

On entering we were shown into the guest chamber, a small, neatly-furnished apartment, panelled with wood, and containing two windows, neither of which were made to open—a peculiarity not only to be found in Iceland but in some other places, especially in Tyrol. A wooden bedstead stood in one corner, covered with an elaborate patch-work quilt, whilst a table and two chairs constituted the remainder of the furniture. As our party numbered five, some pack boxes were added—not very soft seats after a long jolting ride. A looking-glass hung on the wall; but what a glass! It was quite impossible to recognise your own face in it; I can only liken its reflection to what one would see in a kitchen spoon—not a silver spoon—for there the features, though distorted, would be visible, here they were not. Certainly if such mirrors are the only medium of reflection the people of Reyker possess, they will not grow vain of their personal attractions. The room also contained a barometer and an accordion. In most of the houses we entered we found the latter instrument, which the people, being fond of music, amuse themselves with during the long winter evenings. Curiously enough, there is little or no native music, however. A bookcase on the wall contained quite a small library of Icelandic literature.

Tired with our long ride, we were very glad to rest awhile, while our student friend, our guide, and all the combined families in the house down to the babies and the dogs, stood around us, until the room was so full I don't think another soul could have found entrance.

The Icelanders are on first acquaintance with strangers somewhat reserved; but if treated affably this reserve soon wears off, and their hospitality is unbounded. Even among the poorest a night's lodging is never refused to a traveller.

In outlying districts the farmhouses take the place of inns, whilst the charges are on a most moderate scale.

We brought with us some cheese and biscuits, and a pound of Buzzard's chocolate, which the farmer's wife supplemented with coffee and 'skyr,' the latter served in soup plates.

Skyr is the national dish, taking the place of porridge to a Scotchman, and is nothing less than curded sheep's milk, like German 'dicke-milch,' eaten with sugar, to which cream is added as a luxury. As it was rather sour, we fought shy of it at first, fearing future consequences, but this was unnecessary. It is really excellent, and the natives eat it in large quantities. Huge barrels of this skyr are made during the time the sheep are in full milk, and stored away for winter's use. It is agreeable to the taste, satisfying, and wholesome.

While eating our lunch, our host and his numerous family circle—who all seemed much interested at our presence—did nothing but ply us with continual questions about England, the English people, and the cost of the various articles we either wore or carried with us.

We invited our host and one or two of his friends to taste our cheese and chocolate, when after every mouthful they each shook hands with all the gentlemen of our party; whilst those of the women who shared our repast, after shaking hands with the gentlemen, kissed Miss T. and myself most affectionately.

Class distinction is unknown in Iceland; in fact, there are no gentry, in our acceptation of the term, and little or no wealth among the inhabitants.

I believe the Bishop is the richest man in the Island, and his income is about £150 a year, a sum which these simple-minded folk look upon as riches.

Our coffee and skyr, with attendance for seven people, cost 1s. 7-1/2d., a sum reasonable enough to meet any traveller's purse.

At the ports, however, in Iceland as elsewhere, we found we had to keep our wits about us to avoid being cheated, the English being credited as made of money.

Near to this farmhouse, at Reykir, there were some hot springs which we visited, and we stood and watched with much interest the water bubbling up to the surface.

Close to one of these springs we noticed a large open tub in which the family washing was being done in the natural hot water thus supplied; but the water was yellow, and gave off a sulphureous odour—although it did not seem to discolour the clothes.

The ground around the house was, as usual, piled up with dried fish. It is difficult to realise the stench caused by this food supply, unless one has experienced it. Cod liver oil is made in large quantities in Iceland, and exported to England, where it is then refined for use. If a lover of cod liver oil—and I believe such eccentric persons exist—could once be placed within 500 yards of its manufacture, I feel sure they would never taste it again.

Our guide was one of the largest farmers in Iceland, and owned the adjoining island, namely, 'Lonely Island,' or 'Drangey,' famous as the retreat of the outlawed hero of the 'Gretter-Saga.' The legend states that one Christmas night the chief's fire went out, and having no means of rekindling it, he swam from Drangey Island to the Reykir farm to get a light, a distance which to us, humanly speaking, seems impossible for any man to have done.

The tale goes on to say that an old witch went out in a boat to visit Gretter on Drangey. The boat upset and she was drowned; but a large rock like a boat in full sail rose from the sea a few yards from the Island itself.

The 'Saga' contains many wonderful tales in connection with this locality, specially relative to the high table-land which rises almost perpendicularly above the sea. The scenery in this part of the Island is very fine. On the west side of the 'Skagaffiryr,' a fair-sized river, are seen the peaks of the 'Tindastoll,' a very steep range of mountains intersected with water-worn gorges; while opposite, 'Malmey,' or 'Sandstone Isle,' juts into the sea, north of a rude peninsula with a low isthmus that appears almost like an island.



In the middle of this fjord Drangey is situated. This island, which was the property of our guide, is a huge mass of rock, nearly perpendicular, while at one end is the witch's rock resembling the ship in full sail. Drangey is the home of innumerable eider-ducks, who swim at will in and about the surrounding waters. The drake is a very handsome bird, a large portion of his plumage being white; the hen is smaller, and brown in colour. In disposition the birds are very shy and retiring. The hen builds her nest with down plucked from her own breast; this nest the farmer immediately takes possession of; the poor bird makes a second in like manner, which is likewise confiscated; the third nest he leaves untouched, for by this time the bird's breast is almost bare. Eider-down is very valuable, fetching from 12s. to 20s. per pound. When the farmer desires to catch the eider-duck, he places on the shore, at low water, a small board, carefully set with a series of snares on its surface, and as the birds walk over it they are made prisoners by their feet. There must have been many thousands of eider-duck between Reykir and Drangey, and no gun is allowed to be fired for miles around.

Owing to the uneven nature of the ground, caused by constant earth mounds, even where the soil is good the plough is used with great difficulty. In fact, it can only be utilised by removing the sod and levelling the earth with a spade, until smooth enough for a pony to drag the plough over it. There are very few ploughs, or indeed any farming implements of any size in Iceland, the farmers being too poor to buy them, nor are the latter at all an enterprising class, contenting themselves with the primitive method of cultivating the soil which their forefathers used to adopt. Our guide being a man of more energy than his brethren, and wealthier, had invested in a plough, of which he was very proud, and exhibited to us as a great novelty, evidently thinking we had never seen such a wonderful thing.

Hay was being cut all the time we were in the Island, cut under every possible disadvantage, and yet cut with marvellous persistency. With this labour, of course, the frost mounds interfere, being most disastrous to the scythe, and yet the natives never leave a single blade of grass, cutting round and round, and between these curious little hillocks. On the hay crop so very much depends, for when that fails, ponies die, sheep and cattle have to be killed and the meat preserved, and the farmer is nearly ruined. Hay is therefore looked upon as a treasure to its possessor, and is most carefully stored for the cattle's winter provender; but as during the greater part of the year the Icelanders are snowed up, the cultivation of hay or cereals is a difficult matter.

In many parts of Iceland there exist enormous stretches of country covered with dangerous bog, which are, of course, at present undrained. Now, however, that an Agricultural College has been established in the Island, it is hoped a fresh impetus will be given to farming operations in general. At present there are only about 220 acres under cereal cultivation, whilst its inhabitants number over 70,000! Although there are no trees, as before said, there is no scarcity of flowers, indeed the flora is particularly rich, in some instances being composed of specimens not found elsewhere. Often for miles the ground is thickly carpeted with the most beautiful mountain and Arctic flowers, sometimes nestling even in the snow, which lies in patches quite near to the towns. Iceland moss is found on the lava plains.

Mr Gordon was a botanist, and brought home a large collection of specimens; many more, on which he had set great store, were unfortunately lost from the pony's back. The following is a list of those he secured, a great number of which we found growing among huge boulders in high barren places.

LIST OF PLANTS BROUGHT FROM ICELAND.

1. Plantago maritima. 2. Raniunculus acris. 3. Euphrasia officinalis. 4. Alchemilla vulgaris. 5. Do. alpina. 6. Erigeron alpinus. 7. Rumex acetosa. 8. Do. acetocella. 9. Myosotis sylvatica. (?) 10. Cardamine pratensis. 11. Comarum palustris. 12. Trifolium repens. 13. Saxifraga oppositifolia. 14. Empetrum nigrum. 15. Cerastium alpinum. 16. Cynoglossum officinale. (?) 17. Penguicula vulgaris. 18. Poa alpina. 19. Capsella bursa pastoris. 20. Galium saxatile. 21. Stellaria aquatica. 22. Eriocaulon vaginatum. 23. Dryas octopetale. 24. Salix herbacea. 25. Do. lapponica. 26. Do. aurita. 27. Polygonum viviperum. 28. Thalictrum alpinum. 29. Leontodon taraxacum. 30. Samolus valerandi. 31. Equisetum pratense. 32. Stellaria cerastoides. 33. Viola tricolor. 34. Do. palustris. 35. Cerastium trigynum. 36. Potentilla reptans. 37. Arabis. (sp.?) 38. Betula nana. 39. Parnassia palustris. 40. Cerastium vulgatum. 41. Silene acaulis. 42. Vaccinium uliginosum. 43. Do. vitis idea. 44. Thymus serpyllifolia. 45. Gentiana campestris. 46. Potentilla anserina. 47. Aparagia hispidus. 48. Rhinanthus crista galli. 49. Galium vulgaris. 50. Galium parisiense. 51. Geranium pratense.

Names furnished by C. A. Gordon, M.D. C.B.

Birch 2 species. } included in above. Willow 3 " }

Mushrooms grow abundantly in Iceland, and we much enjoyed them, eaten with salt, as a supplement to our meals.

After some hours' rest at Reykir, we remounted, and rode back to Sauderkrok, parting with much regret from our student friend, who had proved a most agreeable and intelligent addition to our party.

That night we were none of us sorry to exchange our saddles for our berths in the Camoens, having been on horseback the greater part of the day, on a road the roughness of which is indescribable.

A further steam of twelve hours up the Hruta Fjord brought us to Bordeyri, a still smaller place than Sauderkrok. Here our captain informed us he should have to wait thirty-six hours for the discharge of further cargo. This fjord is very dangerous, for it has never been surveyed, consequently deep-sea leads were frequently used, the sailors meanwhile chanting a very pretty refrain. When we anchored opposite Bordeyri, we all noticed the anxious look which the captain's face had lately worn had left him, and how pleased he seemed to have brought his steamer safely to her moorings.

We landed in a boat which came alongside the Camoens, and commenced at once to take a survey of the place. A few dozen houses or so, with a large store, where every necessary of life was supposed to be procurable (at least an Icelander's necessities), constituted the town. We entered the store in search of some native curiosities to carry home. A brisk trade was being carried on in sugar candy, large sacks of which were purchased by the farmers, who had come to meet the steamer and barter their goods for winter supplies. Never was any shopping done under greater difficulties than our own, and we almost despaired of making ourselves understood. The store-man, however, grinned most good-naturedly when we failed to do so, and we at last unearthed some finely-carved drinking-horns, and a couple of powder flasks, which we thought would help to decorate a London hall.

While at Bordeyri, we felt we were the subject of much amusement and admiration among the little crowd of natives who flocked to see us, forming also, I doubt not, a topic of conversation among them for many a day to come.

Our survey of the town was soon made, so we ordered ponies for a ride up country, this being the best way of passing our time. On the way we saw a number of large ravens; splendid birds they were and wonderfully tame; the ground was quite covered in places by flocks of them.

Iceland boasts of a great variety of birds; in fact, they form an attraction to many English sportsmen to visit the Island. Both my brother and A. L. T. were sportsmen, but our time was too limited to admit of the exercise of this taste. Among the birds may be noted swan, geese, duck, curlew, mallard, snipe, plover, ptarmigan,—90 species of birds, in fact, 54 of which are wildfowl. During our ride, A. L. T. shot a fine raven, and on our return to the ship, my brother skinned and stuffed it, as a memento of his inland trip. Many of the passengers were so interested in his performance, that he was called on to deliver a lecture on skinning and stuffing birds, and he explained how skilfully this could be accomplished, with the help of a penknife alone. On another occasion, A. L. T. caught a baby curlew as yet unable to fly, but the cries of the parents as they whirled round and round us seeking their offspring, were so heart-rending, that in sheer pity he placed the little thing back on the ground, where it was instantly joined by the old birds, who uttered cries of delight, which we continued hearing until we were well out of sight.

There are great attractions for sportsmen in Iceland—reindeer shooting on the western side of the Island, whale and seal shooting, and salmon and trout fishing, the latter being met with in all the rivers. Indeed some of the finest salmon fishing in the world is to be found here, and several Englishmen rent rivers, where they enjoy this sport every summer; the life being free and independent, the expenses small, and the sport excellent, naturally form many attractions. At the same time, so much netting and trapping of the fish goes on, there is every probability the salmon will be exterminated before long.

Our ride out of Bordeyri was very interesting. There are some hot springs on the east of the fjord, which are reached by boat, but which we had not time to visit. Had we remained longer, we should much have liked to see the 'Anglica fish-lakes,' but these were a full day's journey from Bordeyri, and quite out of our route. They are, we were told, abundantly stocked with char, trout, and other good fish, and afford an excellent halting-place for sporting travellers.

A part of our way lay along a peat-track, over which we raced our ponies, varying our exploits later amid bogs, which required the most careful riding to avoid a catastrophe. As usual, there were many rivers to be forded, through which our ponies plodded up to their middles, never flinching even at the coldest glacial water. Often during our rides, towards evening the cold became intense, although for a few hours about mid-day the sun was very hot.



After some hours' riding, we arrived at another typical farm, which I sketched from my pony's back. The farm-house, and a small hamlet of wooden huts which lay around it, formed a good foreground to the distant fjord. Dismounting, we entered the house by a low door, knocking our heads against the rafters as we traversed a long dark passage which led to the guest-chamber. This room, as usual, was neatly panelled with wood, and contained a bed, chairs, etc., but, from the absence of fresh air, was fearfully close. Our ride had sharpened our appetite, and we at once produced our lunch supply, consisting of cheese and biscuits, etc. We offered some of the biscuits to the farmer, who at first turned them round and round in his hand suspiciously, then seeing that we ate them with enjoyment, he raised one solemnly to his lips, tasted it, and then speedily devoured his share of the meal. In a short time all the various members of the family joined us, and, sans cérémonie, proceeded to examine our belongings. Pipes, match-boxes, watches, furs, and jewellery were all passed in review, and we were asked the price of each article, and whether we had brought them out from England. Our table knives seemed to cause them the greatest astonishment, and as the Sheffield steel glanced in the sun, they were quite childlike in their delight; certainly our English cutlery was a great contrast to the jagged iron knives which served them at table. In our turn, we admired their quaint old silver ornaments, but when we testified a desire to purchase, we failed to meet with any response.

We did not, as first proposed, remain the night at this farm, its accommodation not being sufficiently enticing, so our hostess was saved fulfilling the curious Icelandic custom considered a compliment to strangers, of putting all her guests to bed herself, whether man or woman, and not leaving the room until they were safely tucked up. We cannot say, however, we encountered this form of hospitality ourselves, but we were told it was constantly carried out.

As we sat round the table at our meal in this faraway region, so distant from all the trammels of Society, we wondered what expressions the faces of our London friends would have worn could they have seen our party passing the only spoon available from one person to the other, occasionally even eating with our fingers. Certainly our surroundings were much at variance with a well-appointed luncheon table, and yet we enjoyed ourselves all the more from its primitive simplicity. Lunch over, we prepared to continue our journey, but found our ponies had wandered much further off than usual, and our guide went to seek them.

The Icelander and his pony have initiated signs, which serves them in lieu of language. For instance, when the rider dismounts, and simply leaves the reins over the animal's head, the latter knows that he will be wanted again soon, and must not wander far off; if, on the other hand, the bridle is left loose, the pony knows he may roam at will in search of food until his master seeks him.

We rode back to Bordeyri, which we reached in the evening, and again slept on board the Camoens. During our absence up country the previous day we heard that the ship's company had been in a great state of excitement, consequent on the embarkation of some forty emigrants from Bordeyri and its surrounding neighbourhood. We saw these our fellow-passengers the next day, men, women, and children, many of the former quite old, apparently not more than one in five appeared capable of a good day's work. These emigrants were bound for Manitoba and Winnipeg, in each of which places there is an Icelandic colony, and which settlements they could reach at a cost of £6, 10s. per head. Poor things! we wondered if they had taken into serious consideration the difficulties that lay in their path in the New World they were seeking. Probably, considering the land they were leaving was one of volcanoes and desert wastes, they hoped for better things. Their Icelandic life must indeed be hard and colourless, so hard as to have taken from them all pleasure in existence. To judge by their apathy, these questions did not seem to have been taken much into account by them; possibly when the sight of green fields, and Nature's abundance, break upon their view, dormant will, and energy may rise to fresh surroundings, and inspire them with an impetus to work.

Ah! speculate as we would upon their future, and probably we did so more than they did themselves, all we could do for them was to wish them God-speed and good luck in their venture.

A bright 12th of August dawned at sea as we left the Hruta Fjord, and steamed again towards the Arctic Circle and Cape North. When we met at breakfast the conversation naturally turned upon grouse, and 12th of August sport in general, and the gentlemen wished themselves in Scotland, and exchanged their last year's experiences there. I remembered mine also, for I was staying in a country house in Lanarkshire, and some dozen men ready equipped for sport stood staring out of the windows of the breakfast-room, grumbling lustily at the pouring rain, and finally having to abandon their shooting expedition for the day, and content themselves with dancing Scotch reels, and otherwise amusing 'we girls,'—sorry consolation for the 12th of August!

The day wore on, and we had the unusual treat of a calm sea, but as the wind blew straight across from the ice regions, it was fearfully cold, pack-ice being seen in the distance, whilst an hour or so later we were enveloped in a thick fog.

The captain looked uneasy, as he had discerned ice ahead, and during his last voyage this fog had betokened its dangerous proximity. To turn back now and go round the Island to Reykjavik would be a serious loss of time. We slackened speed, the fog-horn was blown, and several times the sailors took deep-sea soundings.



At dinner-time the captain handed me a parcel containing a tiny shell and a piece of coal black lava, drawn up from 66 fathoms of water S.-E. North Cape, and 27 miles from the same. Though only 10 miles from land, the fog so entirely hid the coast that we missed one of the prettiest views of Iceland.

The next day, however, was lovely, and under a cloudless blue sky the coast-line showed to the greatest advantage. The sunset that night was one of the finest I have ever seen. Snaefell Jökull, with its snow summit, stood out against the most perfect sky, the colours deepening from yellow to orange, and vermilion to carmine, and constantly changing, like a kaleidoscope.

At 11.30 P.M. the sun had not set, but was illuminating the heavens with the most gorgeous colouring, reminding one of the distant warmer regions of the south, although at the same time the thermometer stood far below freezing point as we steamed within the Arctic Circle.



CHAPTER VIII.

REYKJAVIK.

Reykjavik is the capital of Iceland. It has a population of about 4000, and is pleasantly situated on the shores of a small bay to the north of a headland, which forms an excellent harbour. Several islands lie so close to the shore that they can be reached on foot at low water. We had anchored here at night, and when we left our berths in the morning, the town looked quite imposing as compared with the smaller ones we had already seen.

We were somewhat disappointed to hear from the captain that he could not remain a minute longer than four days at Reykjavik, possibly only three and a half, during which time, in order to pay our visit to the Geysers (the chief attraction in our trip), we should be obliged to ride 160 miles over very rough ground; and even calculating our riding powers at 40 miles a day, no time would be left for contingencies, or a visit to Hecla, which had been an object of our ambition.

It was, however, a question of being contented to see what we could in that time, or remaining in Iceland for the next steamer, a disaster we did not look forward to at all, as we had heard of travellers who had been left for weeks at Reykjavik, from failing to present themselves on board at the appointed time. Vaughan and Mr Gordon were up early, and went ashore before breakfast, carrying an introduction to 'Herr Zoega,' the chief guide and pony owner in the capital; and they engaged for our excursion to the Geysers twenty good ponies and two guides, one of whom could speak English, at the same time bringing back on board four pack boxes to fill with eatables and such necessary clothing as we required for the trip. These boxes we packed as tightly as possible, so as to prevent the things rattling about on the ponies' backs. They were about 18 inches long, 12 deep, and some 8 inches wide, consequently the necessary luggage for five of us quite filled two of them, notwithstanding that we took as little as possible.

Our provender consisted of potted meats, half a ham, biscuits, beer, and whisky, and with dinner utensils, such as enamelled metal plates, tumblers, knives, forks, etc., from our luncheon basket, quite filled the boxes. To carry one's own food on such an excursion is absolutely necessary, unless you can live on coffee and skyr.

When calculating the number of ponies to be hired, you must allow two per head, whether for riders or for luggage, as from the rough nature of the ground the animals soon tire, and frequent changes are necessary.

A tent had also to be sought for and hired, and while this was being found, and our ponies laden, and rugs and mackintoshes strapped on to our riding steeds, we were told by our guide that at least two hours must elapse before they would be ready for us to start, so we decided to see what we could of the town meanwhile.

The principal buildings—none of which were of any architectural beauty—were the Cathedral, the Senate House, the Hospital, and the College.

I must not forget to mention the Gaol, the only one in the Island. It is unlike any other I ever heard of, as it very rarely has an inmate! Honesty amongst the people themselves is wonderful, and murder is almost unknown.

Near the Cathedral, on a grassy space in the centre of the town, stood a monument to Albert Thorwaldsen, the sculptor, who was of Icelandic descent, although, I believe, claimed by Denmark, as one of her gifted sons. Reykjavik also boasts a small Antiquarian Museum, which, strange to say, is to be found in the Senate House, and for the size of the town (4000 inhabitants) there is a good Free Library, in a loft under the roof of the Cathedral.

We were pointed out a really interesting sight in the Cathedral-a rude wooden crucifix, which had been discovered in a lava cave, and is believed to be a Chaldean relic. There was also a collection of 13th century ecclesiastical garments and enamelled crucifixes. In the adjoining Museum we saw a number of weapons of war dating from the 4th century, as well as rare old drinking-cups of walrus ivory, beautifully carved, and some old-fashioned tapestry. Some of the old silver ornaments were really quaint, and the carving on the flat-irons much interested me, as I had never seen so many or such fine ones before.

In the library is the first Bible printed in Iceland, at Holar, in 1584; also a very curious work on 'Magic;' two old versions of the New Testament, dated 1540; whilst its shelves boasted quite a large collection of modern works on all subjects.

There are two small inns in the town, as well as a club house, post office, and stores, besides a druggist, a photographer, and two or three silversmiths. As to vehicles, there were none, and the silence of the streets reminded one of Venice.

Tradition says that the town was founded in 877, by one 'Tugolfi,' a Norse settler. The early Icelandic settlers are reputed to have had a curious mode of determining the spot on which they should build their homes. On approaching the coast, the head of a family threw overboard the pillars on which the seat of honour in his former home had been raised, and wherever these pillars floated ashore, there he believed the gods of his ancestors wished him to erect his new dwelling-place.

Tugolfi's high seat pillars had drifted into 'Reykjavik Bay,' consequently he there took up his abode, and thus laid the foundation of the only prosperous town in Iceland.

Our time was too limited to visit many stores in Reykjavik in search of curios, but being possessed with the idea that some good old silver articles were to be obtained here, we tried our best to find them. But the idea turned out to be an illusion, for after inquiring at three of the shops, the only things we succeeded in finding were two silver buckles, for which, after much bargaining, we paid 39s. each; certainly not cheap, but they served us as mementoes of Reykjavik.

We had brought ashore a parcel of letters, which we carried to the post office for despatch, but learnt that they would go no sooner than ourselves in the Camoens. As there was a great possibility of our not returning from our trip to the Geysers in time to catch the steamer, we left our letters, in order that folks at home might receive some news of us if we failed to reappear at the appointed time, and suggested therein we might be detained. In such a case, we should have been obliged to wait for a Danish boat, which would touch at the capital in about a fortnight's time.

While we were gleaning this information, Vaughan had been asked by a Scotchman (the husband of our ship's companion in the brown silk) to go and see his son. He and the boy had ridden from Akureyri to Reykjavik, while we steamed round the Island. The poor boy, while resting his pony near the mud springs, had run off to see them nearer, when suddenly the earth gave way, and one leg was in boiling mud to the knee, and the other immersed above the ankle. Luckily his father was near, and extricated him; but for that, and the fact of his wearing high riding boots, he might have been burnt to death, or lamed for life—as it was, the boiling mud had burnt the boots through before they could be pulled off, and the knee above had been severely hurt. Nothing could be done but ride on, and the brave little chap managed to stick on his pony, although in awful pain, until he reached home a day and a half later.

My brother suggested all he could think of to alleviate his suffering, and, when we returned from the Geysers, had the pleasure of finding his little patient very much better, though likely to remain a cripple for a considerable length of time.

At a bookseller's in Reykjavik, we procured an Icelandic translation of an English book by one of our standard authors, selecting it from a number of well-known works, such as Shakespear, Scott, Byron, Dean Stanley, John Stuart Mill, George Eliot, etc., all of which stood in long rows, translated into the Norse tongue. We also carried off a neat little Icelandic newspaper, printed in the capital; but, unfortunately, not one of our party could decipher its contents.

This little newspaper had been printed after our arrival in the Camoens, and furnished the only news the Icelanders had of the outside world since the advent of a Danish ship a fortnight previously. Iceland has not yet been annexed by cable, and knows nothing of the marvellous scientific invention which now flashes news so quickly round our world.

The hour was now approaching when our caravan was to make its start for the Geysers, so we returned to the town. Here the landlord's daughter, at our request, exhibited herself in her fête attire, in which she made a quaint and pretty picture. The dress consisted of a thickly-pleated black silk skirt, very full and somewhat short, embroidered round the bottom with a deep band of gold thread; a black bodice, also similarly embroidered with gold down the front and round the collar; a handsome necklet and girdle of silver gilt, and a high head-dress of white muslin, in appearance resembling a Normandy cap. This, she told us, she always wore on Sundays and great occasions, dressing like an Englishwoman on week days.

We found our ponies all in readiness at the appointed hour, and our excitement may be imagined when we caught sight of our cavalcade, with its appendages, drawn up in order before the so-called hotel, for our former excursions were as nothing compared to the undertaking which now lay before us, and we realised that all our energy would be required for the enterprise.

Behold our party, then. Two ladies and three gentlemen; two guides, one being employed as pony-driver; seven ponies for riding, and seven for changing on the road; three pack ponies, two laden with our luggage, and one with tents; and three unladen ponies for exchange weights: twenty in all, a goodly company of quadrupeds, well selected and sure-footed. The ponies, too, besides being picked ones for the work, were well 'trapped,' and newly shod, with the saddles, girths, straps, and buckles all in order. So at least 'Zoega' told us, with an assurance that we might depend on his forethought, adding that if we ladies could really accomplish the 160 miles' ride in three and a half days, his ponies should not be found lacking, but he had never yet known any lady do it under five, and he did not think we knew what rough riding lay before us. Miss T—— and myself, not daunted by the difficulties presented, made up our minds, if possible, to compass the ride, see the 'Geysers,' and be back at Reykjavik in time to catch the steamer, for we had no mind to be left in Iceland another fortnight; so we laughingly told Zoega we would show him what English ladies could do in the way of riding, and he might expect to see us back on the appointed day.

Up we all mounted, to the amusement of the crowd, which had collected round the cavalcade. The words, 'Are you ready?' were quickly answered by 'Yes;' but when one of the bye-standers saw we ladies were furnished only with men's saddles, there was quite a commotion. 'The ladies will never be able to ride all that way in that fashion; only native women can ride so, not real ladies,' and so terrible did they make out the prospect of the road, that we were persuaded to take two wretchedly uncomfortable side-saddles with us as far as Thingvalla, which we never used, far preferring our own arrangement.

That start from Reykjavik was a memorable one. It was a glorious morning, the outcome of a splendid sunset the previous night, and the air so genial and warm that for the first time since we set foot on the Island we dispensed with our furs.

A picturesque party we made as we rode on our way towards Thingvalla, a stretch of seven hours' hard riding, one of the guides and Vaughan driving before them the thirteen loose ponies. These were not attached to each other, but followed the leader, and went very well, only now and then one or two strayed from the path, when down jumped the guide, ran after them, and with a curious shriek brought them back in line. Our guides were most dexterous riders, and proved also most kind and attentive. Their names were Signithur Sigurthsen and Jon Eriksen. We had been cautioned that if treated with hauteur the guides often became sullen, whilst kindness ensured their devotion and courtesy, and as we never tried the former tone, we were capital friends with them.

The guide-books had led us to believe that after we had left Reykjavik a mile or so we should find no roads whatever. This is strictly true, as there are no made roads, but here and there we came across long stretches of level land and peat, where we could get really a good gallop, whilst on the other hand there were many parts of our route where no beast could go faster than a walk, and others which only a mule or an Icelandic pony could compass.

A road or bridle path is being constructed between Akureyri and Reykjavik, and some 20 miles is already roughly made, although it will probably take years to complete.

Herr Zoega had certainly been as good as his word, and supplied us with excellent ponies, some of which excelled in trotting, some in cantering, and others in pacing, but the latter motion was very trying, and I always objected to mounting those which had been trained to pace.

The Icelandic fashion of making the pony go fast is to kick its side incessantly with the legs, which a native does for hours together, and so accustomed is the pony to this 'clapping,' that he slackens his pace as soon as it ceases.

The scenery along our route was in many parts very fine and wild in the extreme, huge boulders of lava and rock intersecting our path, and standing like massive ruins on either side, the lava having evidently cooled down in an almost liquid state, and presenting a most uncanny appearance.

Professor Geikie, speaking of the Icelandic volcanoes, says,—

'On several occasions the ashes have fallen so thickly between the Orkneys and Shetlands that vessels passing there have had the unwonted deposit shovelled off their decks in the mornings. In the year 1783, during the memorable eruption of Skaptar-Jökull (80 miles east of Hecla), so vast an amount of fine dust was ejected, that the atmosphere over Iceland continued loaded with it for months afterwards. It fell in such quantities over parts of Caithness—a distance of 600 miles—as to destroy the crops. That year is still spoken of by the inhabitants as the year of "the ashie." Traces of the same deposit have been observed in Norway, and even as far as Holland.' ...

The most stupendous outpouring of lava on record was that which took place from the Skaptar-Jökull.

'Preceded by violent earthquakes all along the southern coast, it burst out with great fury, drying up the river in twenty-four hours, and filling its bed. The lava in some places was 600 feet deep and 200 wide, flowing like a mighty river towards the sea, wrapping whole districts in flames, re-melting old lavas, opening subterranean caverns, one of its streams reaching the ocean. It was in full activity for two and a half months, and did not entirely cease for six months.

'It took the lava more than two years to cool. One stream was 50 miles long, 12 to 15 broad on the plain, and from 1 to 600 feet deep; another was 40 miles long, and 7 wide. Pasture lands 100 miles around were destroyed by the pumice sand and ashes. The matter ejected has been estimated as twice the volume of Mount Hecla, or one hundred thousand millions cubic yards, probably as large as any single mass of the older igneous rocks known to exist—according to Bischoff, greater than the bulk of Mount Blanc.

'Man, his cattle, houses, churches and grass lands were burnt up, noxious vapours filled the air, and the earth was shrouded by clouds of ashes.' ...

A few instances of the actual outbreak of a submarine eruption have been witnessed. In the early summer of 1783 a volcanic eruption took place about 30 miles from Cape Reykjanaes, on the west coast. An island was thrown up from which fire and smoke continued to issue, but in less than a year the waves had washed the loose pumice away, leaving a submerged reef from 5 to 30 fathoms below sea level. About a month later followed the frightful outbreak of Skaptar-Jökull, a distance of nearly 200 miles from this submarine vent.

The bluest of skies was above our heads, and the atmosphere so clear we could see objects many miles distant, among them 'Hecla,' whose snowy cap glistened like silver in the sun.

The air was so pure and invigorating, that it acted like champagne on all our party, and we were in the highest spirits. About every two hours we halted and gave our ponies a brief rest, letting them nibble the short grass near, when any such was to be found, then changing our saddles to the backs of the reserve animals we started afresh, the wild mountain paths becoming steeper and rougher as we advanced.

We had only passed two farms on our way, and our guide informing us there was not another for many miles, feeling very hungry after our long morning's ride, we dismounted by the side of a babbling brook for lunch, and did full justice to the ham and tinned beef we had brought from London with us. While eating our meal, our twenty ponies were allowed to wander at will with the reins thrown over their heads, and had there been any passers-by we might have been taken for a gipsy encampment.

Luncheon over, everything had to be washed, and securely packed, but despite all our previous care we found some of our china had been sorely smashed, and the biscuits shaken to perfect powder.

Our guides shared our repast, respectfully taking their seats at a little distance from us, and their delight at tasting our tinned beef and mustard entertained us greatly. The latter stung poor Jon's mouth till the tears ran down his cheeks, but, nothing daunted, he persevered in taking the condiment, till he grew so fond of it as to ask for it with every kind of food, even spreading it on an Albert biscuit.

Hitherto our path had wound over a range of hills amid which we saw several small lakes, and the view looking westward towards 'Snaefell Jökull,' which rises like a pyramid of ice from the sea, was charming. Our lunch had been taken in the valley of the 'Seljadalr,' and now once more in our saddles, we followed a bridle-path upwards towards the plateau of 'Mosfellshei,' passing through a wild rocky glen of great natural beauty. The 'Mosfellshei' is a long, stony, dreary waste, several miles in length, so wild and rough as to render riding no easy task, the path leading through dreary tracks of lava, over which the ponies stepped with cat-like agility, hardly if ever stumbling, and going up and down hill as easily as on level ground. After two hours or more of this rough riding, suddenly, at a bend of the hill, we came upon our first view of Thingvalla Lake, and were charmed with it and the surrounding country. It was like going out of a desert into fairyland. The lake, which is 45 miles long, and of a deep cobalt blue, can be seen only in part, as the hills around project to such an extent as to apparently divide the water into a series of lakes, instead of one broad expanse. It was a glorious day with a bright warm sun, and a clear blue sky, and everything around looked fair and peaceful. We were so delighted with the spot, that we stopped to make sketches, allowing the pack ponies to get ahead of us.

Not long after remounting and calmly jogging on our way, we suddenly came upon the verge of a tremendous chasm, which, opening at our feet, divided the barren ground on which we stood, from a lovely sunlit plain of many miles in extent. Winding our way down, we entered the Almannagya by a narrow fissure. The path leads for nearly a mile, the rocks rising as perpendicular walls on either side from 80 to 100 feet; so narrow was it in some places that there was little more than room for the path. In other places where it widened, patches of snow still remained.

Here was indeed a halting-place full of interest, and we accordingly dismounted, and prepared to spend some time in lionising a spot so replete with historic records.

Running parallel were two or three such chasms, of minor magnitude, over the less steep parts of which we managed to scramble, before remounting our ponies, which it was necessary to do, although Thingvalla Farm lay but a few yards distant, because of the intervening river, which we had to ford.



CHAPTER IX.

THINGVALLA.

Independently of the beauty and natural curiosities of the spot, Thingvalla is so associated with the early history of the Norse people, its government and its laws, that it deserves a longer notice here than has been given to any other of our halting-places.

We had descended into the 'Almannagja' by a steep rocky causeway made between cloven rocks, and reached the narrow islet where, in times gone by, when feudal despotism was the only government acknowledged, the chiefs of the Island met to regulate the affairs of state. Whenever it might have been that the volcanic eruption which had shivered the rocks into their present fissured condition had occurred, it had left this spot so surrounded by deep crevices as to render it impregnable, save by the rude causeway which connected it with the exterior level. This plain was, as already recorded, chosen by the founders of the first Icelandic parliament for their sittings. At the upper end of the plain, we were shown the stone seats which the principal legislators and judges occupied during their deliberations. Not far from here lies also the 'Logberg,' or 'law rock,' a large mound from whence the laws were proclaimed or judgments given to the people who assembled on the outside slope of the eastern wall of the rift, in view of the proceedings below. Our notice was likewise directed to the 'blood stone,' on which, for certain offences, the criminals were condemned to have their backs broken, after which barbarous punishment they were hurled backwards, and fell into the chasm below.

In Lord Dufferin's 'Letters from High Latitudes,' he thus describes this spot:—

'Long ago—who shall say how long—some vast commotion had shaken the foundations of the Island, and bubbling up from sources far away amid the inland hills, a fiery deluge must have rushed down between their ridges, until, escaping from the narrower gorges, it found space to spread itself into one broad sheet of molten stone over an entire district of country, reducing its varied surface to one vast blackened level.

'One of two things must then have occurred, either the vitrified mass, contracting as it cooled—the centre area of fifty square miles must have burst asunder at either side from the adjoining plateau, and sunk down to its present level—leaving the two parallel gorges, or chasms, which form its lateral boundaries, to mark the limits of the disruption; or else, while the lava was still in a fluid state, its upper surface became solid, and formed a roof beneath, while the mother stream flowing on to lower levels, left a vast cavern into which the upper crust subsequently plumped down "and formed this level plain."'

For three hundred years did the little republic of Iceland hold their parliaments within this romantic precinct, three hundred years of remarkable independence, but during which period Paganism and spiritual darkness prevailed throughout the Island. In the organisation of the first 'Althing,' priestly power predominated, no less than thirty-nine priests having seats. During the early settlement of Iceland, the land was divided into four quarters, each quarter sending its quota of priests to parliament, while each priest thus nominated a member of the Althing, was accompanied by two retainers, or assessors, as they were termed. Inclusive of the President, the Log-men, and its numerous sacerdotal representatives, the members of the Althing are said to have numbered 145 persons.

As we stood by these time-honoured rocks, where in long ages past ancient Norse chieftains had promulgated their laws, we tried to conjure up the scene,—the rocky entrance to this weird spot, guarded by stalwart Norsemen, the stern senators and law-makers sitting in deep thought, or occupied in stormy debate, while the crowd of interested spectators looked down from the stony platform above. We wondered that although these grand old times of feudalism had passed away, no enterprising artist had been found to transfer to canvas an historic record of such deep interest, and thus make the scene live again in modern times.

It was in the year 1000, on the 4th of June, that Iceland abandoned Paganism, and accepted Christianity. This great change was principally brought about through the instrumentality of a Pagan priest named Snorri, who, while travelling in Christian lands, had been converted, and on his return had pressed his new convictions on the people of Iceland. Many of these accepting his tenets caused quite a division in the Island, and the Althing was summoned to take into consideration the new views which had been introduced.

Snorri was invited to address the assembly, and explain the principles of his new-found faith. The members of the Althing listened with great attention, evidently much impressed with what they heard, for Snorri spoke with the enthusiastic zeal of a fresh convert.

There were not wanting, however, those among the representatives who resented the introduction into the Island of this new belief, hence the debate, so records the 'Njol-Saga,' waxed warm, when a messenger rushed in and disturbed the council by the alarming news that a stream of lava had burst out at Olfas, and that the priest's dwelling would soon be overrun. On this one of the heathen opponents to Christianity remarked, 'No wonder the gods exhibit their wrath, when such speeches as we have just heard against their power have been permitted.' On this Snorri with great dignity rose up, saying, as he pointed to the riven rocks and deep fissures around them, 'At what then were the gods wroth when this lava was molten and overran the whole district upon which we now stand?' To this speech there was no reply, for all well knew that the plain was one of the most remarkable lava tracks in the Island.

It is presumed that Snorri's remark told, and his persuasive eloquence won the day, for shortly after, the Icelanders in a body accepted Christianity as their national faith, and this apparently without either bloodshed or quarrelling.

In the 'Saga' mention is made of many remarkable sittings and debates which took place within the Althing, some of which ended in such animosity between individual members as to be the cause of party feuds and bloodshed.

In connection with the deep rifts which encompass the Althing, a romantic story is told. A Norseman called Flossi, a leader of some conspiracy in the Island, was condemned to death; he evaded this sentence by taking a leap from the blood stone, on which he stood, across the adjoining rift, a feat neither his accusers nor condemners were likely to imitate, and one inspired only by his extreme peril.

In 1800 the Althing was abolished, Iceland having fallen under Danish government; it was re-established again in 1843, but only in a very restricted form, its legislation being cramped in every way by Danish supremacy. In 1845 the romantic precinct where the Icelanders held their parliament was abandoned, and the legislative body was removed to the capital of Reykjavik.

In the 'National Encyclopædia,' we found the following note in reference to the new constitution granted to the Icelanders,—

'In 1874, on the occasion of the millennial jubilee of the Island's colonisation, the King of Denmark visited Iceland, and conferred upon his subjects there a new and very liberal constitution, most of its articles being moulded upon the Danish charter of 1849. It conceded to Iceland, in all matters concerning the Island, its own independent legislation and administration, superintended by an assembly, the new Althing consisting of thirty-six members—thirty elected by popular suffrage, and six nominated by the King. It put at the head of the country's affairs a minister named by the King, and residing in Copenhagen, but responsible to the Althing, and exercising his functions through a local governor residing at Reykjavik. It also fully guaranteed the independence of the tribunals, individual freedom, liberty of faith, of the press, of public meetings, the individuality of property, the self-government of principalities, and the equality of all citizens before the law.'

As will clearly be seen, this is a case of Home Rule, though the Icelanders are still in a measure under the Danish Government; apparently much the same kind of legislature as Mr Gladstone is so anxious to confer upon Ireland. The present Althing or Parliament has two Houses—an Upper and Lower House; there are twelve members in the former, and twenty-four in the latter. They must all be Icelanders, and usually they sit for about six years. We peeped into the Parliament House during the short time we were in Reykjavik; it was then sitting, but much as I should like to have remained and listened to the proceedings, the odours in the gallery in which we were placed forbade it. The impression it made upon me was that it resembled a small English law-court, the governor sitting in uniform at the head of the Council.

Certainly the ancient mode of transacting affairs of state was a far more interesting one, and the precincts of its primitive Parliament House and law-courts were unrivalled in their rocky architecture and romantic scenery.

Not far from the Almannagya is a very picturesque fall, formed by the waters of the 'Oxara,' which leap in a single bound from an elevation west of the 'Thingfields,' or 'speaking-place' into the 'Almannagya,' flowing through a gap in the rocks, and again leaping into the plain below, forming a large pool.

In this pool it is said in olden times women convicted of witchcraft or infanticide used to be drowned.

Altogether the halt we made at the Thingfields interested us deeply, and the landscape was charming in the extreme. High mountains guard three sides of the plain; among these we had pointed out to us the 'Sular Range,' the dark peaks of the 'Armammsfell,' and the lower ridge of the 'Jornkliff,' below, on the north-east of the snow-capped 'Skjaldbreid,' and the peaks of 'Tindjjalla-jökull' with the more distant 'Langjökull' sparkling like silver. South-west of the lake there is another group of mountains seen, from one of which—Hengill—a cloud of steam ascends, it being evidently volcanic. Among the rocks of the 'Almannagya' we saw some pretty mountain sheep grazing, the only sign of life in this wild region. The Icelandic sheep are very small, and we noticed often wander in pairs, one black and one white: they mostly have horns; the wool of the white sheep is spotless. There are plenty of sheep in the Island, and it is for them as much as the ponies that the grass is cut, dried, and stacked under such woeful disadvantages and in such a marvellously painstaking manner.

Leaving the rift, and crossing over a small river, we arrived at the door of Thingvalla Parsonage. Here it was arranged we were to pass the night. The farms and inns are so few and far between in Iceland, that the parsonages are thrown open for the accommodation of travellers. Formerly the wooden benches of the Thingvalla Church itself used to be converted into sleeping-berths; travellers, however, behaved so indecorously within the sacred walls, that the Bishop forbade the further use of the edifice for this purpose. The church, a simple wooden building, is surrounded by a graveyard, a few iron crosses marking some of the graves. The pulpit dates from 1683, and there is an ancient altar-piece of the Last Supper. The so-called village of Thingvalla consists merely of the church, the parsonage, and a few outhouses for storing winter supplies. When we arrived at the parsonage, we learnt that the clergyman was absent,—further, that a party of travellers from our ship had arrived a few hours before us, and had engaged rooms, the only remaining accommodation being two very small bedrooms, and one sitting-room. To Miss T. and myself was assigned the clergyman's own bedroom. This contained the smallest bed I have ever seen, and having to be made available for two persons, we did not pass a very comfortable night. The only luxury in the room was a well-stored bookcase containing many standard works in various languages. Our three gentlemen occupied the remaining bed and sitting-room.



We ascertained that the party who had preceded us consisted of seven men, who having only one bedroom and a small sitting-room, had most of them to sleep on the floor rolled up in their rugs. These men it appeared were not accustomed to the saddle, and having ridden forty miles on the day they arrived at the parsonage, found themselves so stiff on the morrow as to be barely able to continue their journey; indeed, two of their party gave in, and never reached the 'Geysers' at all.

Among the ancient curios of the Thingvalla Parsonage was an old grinding-machine, such as one reads of in the Bible; at this a girl sat turning its stone wheel with her hand, whilst the corn thus converted into flour fell into a receptacle below. In all the domestic arrangements Icelanders are very primitive, but this operation was, I think, about the most so of any I witnessed. A large jar containing rice attracted my attention, and curiously enough the rice was not to eat but to make poultices of, instead of linseed. We found the commissariat at the parsonage at a very low ebb; in fact, nothing but coffee and skyr were procurable; and but for our provision of tinned meats we should have fared badly.

We could not even procure white bread, simply the black 'pumpernickel' bread so much prized in Germany. Vaughan persuaded a man to go to the lake and secure us some fish for the next morning's breakfast; this he did, and returned with some excellent pink trout, and yellow char, which we much enjoyed.