REYKHOLT
“I think that I would wander far to view
Such scenes as these, for they would fill a heart
That lothes the commerce of this wretched world,
That sickens at its hollow gaieties.”
—_Southey_.
The present house at _Haukagill_ is finished inside with unpainted spruce
from Norway, beautiful as old mahogany, having become soft reddish brown
with age and frequent polishing with fine sand. Our bed chamber contained
the pride of the family, a Connecticut clock adjusted to strike the hours
and the quarters. Its gong was far from musical. The bells of Bruges had
raised havoc with our sleep with their persistent struggle to be heard,
but this clock, on a shelf at the head of the bed, reminded us every
fifteen minutes that it also came from New England as well as we and was
clamorous for recognition. After hours of sleeplessness we wished it had
never left the Nutmeg State.
At nine in the morning we turned our backs upon this charming valley,
climbed the steep hill and looked down at the farm house, the last we
were to see for two days. We were now fairly upon the great plain of
_Grimstungaheiði_, Grim’s-Tongue-Heath, an extensive tract of desolation
between the fertile valleys of the north and the glaciers of the great
central plateau of Iceland. For a while there was a trace of a trail
which soon disappeared. Hour after hour we plodded on, guided solely by
the glimmer of the glaciers on the horizon and an occasional tumbled-down
cairn of former days.
This tract is a broad and fresh moraine from the recently receded
glacier, chaotic, empty, vast and dreary. There is nothing to relieve the
monotony of the scene save the increasing mass of ice as the glaciers
loom higher above the stony horizon. The angular fragments of lava,
somber, gray, variously riven and confusedly hurled in piles, are as
though some vast mountain had been crumpled like an eggshell and the
fragments scattered by a titanic hand. No touch of verdure enlivens the
cold ruin and weary waste, save at the margins of the numerous ponds and
pools which glimmer like sheets of light in the dim distance. Otherwise,
everything everywhere is like everything everywhere else. This heath
is similar to the vast interior of Iceland, except that the traces
of vegetation found here are often entirely wanting throughout large
sections, notably north of _Hoffs Jökull_, as my pack train had occasion
to testify in the summer of 1913. There are large sections of bristling
lava, life-destroying sands and death-presaging glaciers which man has
never explored.
All day we rode to the southward, and, save the wild swan on the ponds,
no living creature crossed our trail. It was three in the afternoon
before we found sufficient grass to afford the hungry ponies a bite;
this was at the margin of a pool of glacial water that had filtered
through the moraines. We regaled ourselves from the contents of our
packing boxes, rested an hour, changed saddle horses and then pushed on
over an unusually rough mass of terminal moraine at the foot of _Láng
Jökull_. We turned towards the southwest, crossed a bog and arrived at
the small _saelhus_, refuge, at _Arnavatn_, Eagle-Lake. This shelter of
turf and stones was built for the protection of the sheep gatherers, who
resort hither in the autumn to gather the sheep that have strayed to the
highlands during the long summer.
[Illustration: _The Glacier of Láng Jökull in the Kaldidalr._
_Láng Jökull._ _Eiriks Jökull._
_Glaciers and Moraine on Arnavatnsheiði._]
This shelter stands on the shore of the lake just under the shoulder
of _Eyriks Jökull_. As this was one of the most unusual so was it the
choicest of our experiences this summer. In front of the hut is a
waterfall which connects the upper with the lower lake. Here upon this
point of land _Grettir_ lived for many years during his exile, six I
believe. In ancient days this desert was infested with outlaws, desperate
men, living upon sheep and cattle stolen from the farmers along the
borders of the desert. Usually these were men who had taken human life
and were ready to take others if it would secure to them their wild
liberty. Considering the history of the place, its rough and weird
aspect, its proximity to the life-destroying glaciers and the chaos so
heavily stamped upon the land, it is not to be wondered that imagination
has peopled this unfrequented area with trolls and witches, nor that a
few people may be found to-day who tell their children that outlaws still
live in the interior around the glaciers and in the lava caves.
In the summer of 1913 I was camping at _Hvitávatn_, White-Lake, on the
east side of _Láng Jökull_ with the same Icelander, Ólafur Eyvindsson,
who was with us in 1910. He said that he first visited White-Lake in 1909
and that after he had retired with another Icelander to their tent which
was beside that of Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Wright of Washington, D. C.,
they were thinking about the outlaws and Ólafur wondered if there was
really any truth in the current stories of outlaws living here at the
present time. At the close of conversation when sleep had fallen upon
him, he awoke as with the sound of two men talking in a low tone in the
Icelandic. He cautiously put his head out of the tent and with something
like fear. He listened a few moments, the men drew nearer and he went to
meet them.
To his pleasant surprise he found them to be a well known physician and
his friend from _Reykjavik_. And this is all the truth there is to-day
about outlaws in the interior of Iceland. There is only one thing to
fear,—shortage of grass for the ponies. Grass the pony must have and
feeding it to him is like feeding shavings to a roaring furnace. It is a
rare sight to see an Icelandic pony lying down, for he will carry you all
day and feed all night.
During the evening Ólafur and I shod the ponies, for the rough blocks
had made havoc with their little feet. This was my first experience
in the art of farriery. We hobbled them for the night and turned them
into the bog beside the upper pond. Then we made great inroads upon our
provisions. We gathered a few fragments of birch twigs and roots and some
dried sheep manure and with this fuel were able to warm two cans of soup
and to smoke the hut thoroughly. The smoke had the wholesome effect of
driving out the dampness.
That evening is long to live in memory. We were fortunate in having no
fog and a perfectly clear atmosphere. The vastness of the lava-riven
plain, rolling away to the distant mountains, the network of ponds and
glacial streams, glimmering in the lingering sunlight of the Arctic
summer night, the great glacier, with blue-green walls and prismic
domes, upon whose front hung scores of streams like strings of shining
pearls,—such was the framework of the picture. The smoke from our root
fire curled lazily upwards into the clear and rarified air from the
diminutive pile of turf and lava that was to be our shelter for the
night. The swan led their young from lake to lake in front of the camp
and sang throughout the glorious night.
The hardness of the improvised bed of boards and saddles, or, perhaps it
was the charm of the landscape, forbade my lengthened morning slumber and
three o’clock found me crouched in the shelter of the cairn, drinking
in the wonders of the scene,—glacier, lake and rolling moraine with the
sunlight over all.
Eight in the morning, breakfastless, found us in the saddle. The ponies
had fared poorly here, and if we were not to spend another night in the
desert we must ride until we found grass, where pony and man could eat to
repletion.
The heath over which we took our morning ride is uninviting, dreary and
somewhat awe inspiring. There are many beds of flowers in sheltered
places. The purple armaria, sandwort and stone-crop are the smiles of
Flora upon the face of an Arctic desolation. As one reclines upon the
flowered mounds between the tussocks of grass, basking in the genial
sunshine and piling the empty tins around him, he forgets for the moment
that he is under the cliffs of a mighty sheet of perpetual ice, that he
is entirely dependent upon his ponies and the scanty grass they are now
so greedily eating. Breakfast over, we rode for hours under the front of
_Eyriks Jökull_, with many a stony moraine to climb and glacial torrent
to ford. There is a legend concerning the name of this mountain which is
worth relating as it shows something of the stirring times of the old
days in spite of the absurdity of the conclusion.
A band of outlaws assembled in the great cavern of _Surtur_ and
lived upon ponies, sheep and cattle stolen from the farmers near
_Kalmungstúnga_, Kalmungs-Tongue, and became a great menace to the entire
region. Many attempts had been made to capture them but without avail.
Finally a lad volunteered to leave his home and join the outlaws and act
in the capacity of a spy. He did his work so well that he won the full
confidence of the outlaws for he killed sheep belonging to his own father
and brought them to the cave. The time came when, at the signal from the
boy, the farmers assembled to take the outlaws unawares. Gathering at the
entrance of the side cave in great _Surtshellir_ in large numbers they
slew all of the outlaws except _Eyrik_. This man was the strongest of all
men of his time and made a stout resistance. However, the farmers hacked
at him with their swords and cut off both feet at the ankles and both
hands at the wrists. Having no way in which to longer defend himself,
_Eyrik_ turned a cartwheel on his bloody stumps across the blistered
lava, up the ice slope and to the very summit of the glacier. In this
manner he escaped and if you doubt it you can still see the blood red
crags of fire scorched lava over which he rolled a human wheel. He is, if
this story is true, the only man who has ever gained the summit of this,
the second mountain in height in Iceland and from him the mountain takes
its name.
In the afternoon we came upon the great _Hallmundarhraun_,
Hallmundar’s-Lava, twisted, crumpled, cracked and tangled, grey with
lichens and Icelandic moss in patches and alive with ptarmigan, plover
and whimbrels. Beneath this lava sheet is _Surtshellir_, Surtur’s-Cave.
Before we explore this chamber of fire origin it is well to pause for a
moment and glance at the Norse mythology relative to _Surtur_.
In the _Edda_ of _Saemund_, the Wise, we find the “Song of
_Vafthruðnis_.” This is a dialog between _Odin_, who, under the disguise
of _Ganrade_, visited the _Jötunori_ to converse with their gigantic
chief _Vafthruðnis_, to determine which was the wiser. Their discourse
was concerning the origin of the world and the races of men. When _Odin_
entered the giant’s hall he was accosted by the master as follows:—
“What mortal he who dares to come,
Unbidden, to my awful dome
To hold discourse? For never more
Shall he his homeward way explore;
Unless he happly should exceed,
What wisdom is to me decreed.”
After a lengthy and interesting dialog, _Odin_ proposes a question which
the giant can not answer, so _Vafthruðnis_ replies:—
“None know since time its race hath run
What _Odin_ whispered to his son.
The fate of gods and mystic lore
With thee no longer I explore.
Thou, by the hand of knowledge led,
The fatal stroke of death has fled;
And since thy wisdom I have tried,
Hear _Vafthruðnis_ thus decide,—
‘In mysteries of every kind,
Thou are the wisest of mankind.’”
_Trans. by Cottle._
In this Ode we are told that _Surtur_ was the adversary of _Odin_, that
he dwelt in the Antarctic,—
“Where decked with many a shining car,
Gods and great _Surtur_ rush to war.”
This was on the fabled plain of _Vigriði_, where “a hundred miles around”
on the wreck of the fiery elements the gods battled with their enemies
and with the enemies of the mortals whom they protected. One article of
the Norse mythology states that _Surtur_, the black prince of the nether
regions, should come from the south and set the world on fire. Here where
the devastation of volcanic fire blast is terrible, where a whole valley
is filled with the scorched and blistered lava flow from the ice-crowned
volcanoes, here where the great, black cavern extends for a mile under
ground, the early settlers located the abode of the dread black prince,
_Surtur_, and most fittingly. It was with a knowledge of this cave in
his mind that Jules Verne wrote his story of “A Journey to the Center of
the Earth.”
Beside the entrance and on a mound of crumpled lava stands a _varða_,
cairn, to mark the way. Hundreds of these cairns have been built in the
past centuries throughout the travelled portions of Iceland to guide
the traveller over the mountain passes, across the sandy deserts and
extensive wastes of glacial moraine as well as to point the direction
to places where grass may be found for the ponies. There is a style in
Icelandic cairns as in women’s clothes and one can tell by their outward
appearance at what period they were built. They reminded _Henderson_ of
the passage in Jeremiah xxxi, 21,—“Set thee up way-marks, make thee high
heaps.”
A portion of the roof of the cavern fell in at some remote period and
this is the entrance. We climbed down with some difficulty to the snow
bank and found a ptarmigan perched upon a block of stone. I had no
difficulty in approaching within ten feet and she waited for me to take
two photographs. This is the largest and the longest lava tunnel known.
It is not, by any means the largest cave, but the largest underground
passage by which lava formerly flowed that has been explored. It was
formed by the lava filling the floor of the valley and cooling on top and
then draining out underneath to some lower level. It was in exactly this
same manner that the great lava flow came down from _Skjalbreith_, filled
_Thingvellir_ and then drained out and left the great plain between the
mountains to fall to form that wonderful formation previously described
in chapter six.
Vergil says,—“_facilis descensus Averno_” but we did not find it easy
to descend into the _Averno_ of _Surtur_, nor to follow the cavern once
we had made the descent. We purchased candles at _Akureyri_ for this
purpose and lighting them we entered the chamber with one in each hand;
there being three of us we had six candle power. “How far that little
candle throws his beams,” of Shakespeare, was all too short a distance
in this blackness. A little beyond the entrance is a side passage which
we entered and where we found hundreds of bones of sheep and horses.
This was the place formerly occupied by the above mentioned outlaws and
thus far the legend above related is a truth. There being no animals in
Iceland large enough to carry flesh into this corner it is clear that
they were taken here by the hand of man. There are many hundreds of them
showing what an extensive use was made of the retreat in the old days.
Henderson mentions them in 1817 and Olafsen and Povelsen found them in
1753 so there is no doubt of their great age and we may justly conclude
that these bones are those left by the outlaws. As I write I have two of
them before me, one a vertebra of a sheep and the other a rib of a pony.
This rib had been broken while the horse was living and had been healed
again as the callosity testifies. As I look at this ancient bone I often
wonder what a story it could relate of the cave where it has rested these
hundreds of years and of the deeds of that lawless age.
For the first quarter of a mile the floor of the cave is strewn with
great basaltic plinths that have fallen from the roof from time to time.
Each stone was damp, dripping wet or coated with ice from the water
that has percolated through the roof. The blocks were so large that in
climbing over them we frequently found ourselves in holes up to the
waist and as our candles gave only a baleful glimmer it was difficult
to make progress. One can not step down into these holes without first
assuring himself where the bottom is. Once down he must crawl up over the
slippery stones on the opposite side.
The cavern runs straight as if laid out with a theodolite and the roof is
arched with plinths and the walls are covered in places with patches of
lava stalactites, which spread their nets of lace-like lava in strange
fantastic forms. The dome is from forty to sixty feet high and the cavern
is about thirty feet in width. As we proceeded we found more and more
the deficiency of our candles in giving sufficient light for us to take
advantage of the way, if indeed there is any advantage of one place over
another.
After a weary climb over the slippery rocks we came to the reaches of
ice, the accumulations of water that seep through the vault. Here the
roof is hung with ice stalactites that often extend from the dome to
the floor and present a wonderful sight, for the light of the candles,
which refused to reflect from the blackened walls, glitters and plays
on the ice in a beautiful manner. Great stalagmites of ice stand out of
the murky gloom like spectres of the departed outlaws who haunted these
underground chambers in the ancient day of Iceland’s lawlessness. We
fastened the candles in the top of these huge white candlesticks and
made a flashlight of the ice wall before us, which had brought us to an
abrupt stop and where the journeys of most of the tourists end. The vapor
hung heavily in the freezing air and the smoke from the candle flame, in
the absolute quiet of the air, hung suspended or twined in long, curling
bands of moisture laden smoke, which assumed fantastic forms, reminding
us of the wraiths that disturb the midnight slumbers of guilty dreamers
in the castle-haunted dungeons of mediaeval days.
At first it seemed impossible for us to scale the ice wall with any means
at our disposal but by dint of much exertion it was accomplished. We knew
that Povelsen in his visit and later Henderson, had deposited coins in
the cairns which Povelsen had built at the far end of this cave. We had
brought with us two Lincoln cents of the date of 1910 for the express
purpose of placing them in the cairn. Ólafur ascended on my shoulders
and gripping the lava stalactites on the wall managed to ascend. With
his feet engaged in the crevices of the wall, he reached down and drew
up Mrs. Russell, who stood on my shoulders. The two then formed a living
chain by which I climbed to the top of the ice. Under the ice wall there
was some water but the passage was too long and the ice columns too near
together for a passage in this direction. Once on the top the way became
easier. The ice sloped in a gentle declivity to the floor of the tunnel
and when we left it we found a continuation of the heavy blocks of stone
for some distance. This was followed by finer material and eventually by
sand which made the walking much better. At the end of an hour of hard
labor we arrived at the end of the tunnel and found the ancient cairn.
We removed the capstone and with the wax of our candles cemented the two
Lincoln cents, left our cards, replaced the capstone and retraced our
weary way.
The return was as arduous as the inward journey, for we had slipped over
the icy rocks and into the holes so often that our woolen gloves were
cut to threads and our boots still show the scars of those ignominious
slides. Nowhere else in Iceland have I ever felt the least fear of
danger, neither in fording the glacial rivers, in the terrible deserts,
on the ice mountains, nor in sleeping in the crater of _Askja_, Bowl,
with ice beside my tent and columns of steam and sulfur gases rising
from the solfatara in front, but, in this cave the thought was ever
present with me,—“those blocks of stone, some of them weighing a ton,
each has fallen from that lofty dome, when will the next one fall?”
The experience was worth all the labor for we had been in the actual
home of the outlaws, had worked our way to the far end of the longest
and grandest lava tunnel known, we had seen the beautiful ice barrier,
beautiful as the altar screen in the great cathedrals of Europe and we
had left positive proof of our labor in the ancient cairn. No one should
omit this visit if he is near this portion of Iceland. When he has issued
from the darkness into the sunlight, if he desires more of the same
experience he will find a similar tunnel not far from _Surtshellir_,
which was discovered in 1909.
That night we reached _Kalmungstúnga_, a prosperous farm within the
shadows of _Geitlands Jökull_, Goat-Land, and _Ök Jökull_, Yoke. This is
a new farm house with spacious and airy rooms and well furnished. The
farmer is obliging though he has a reputation of overcharging his guests.
After a well cooked dinner we repaired to rest, not having slept more
than three hours out of the last forty-eight. A little after midnight I
was aroused by Mrs. Russell, who was saying:—
“There is some one in our room.”
After a little I awoke sufficiently to see a man standing at the foot of
the bed occupied by Mrs. Russell. I asked,—
“Who is there and what is wanted?”
“It is Ólafur. The Governor of Iceland with his daughter has arrived and
he wishes a bed,” replied the guide.
“Well, let him have one if he can find it. We are too tired to give up
these.”
“The farmer does not want them, but there is one folded up under your
bed. If I can get it the Governor will have it set up in the hall and
sleep there.”
So saying, he took away the bed and we were soon asleep and did not
awaken till the Governor sent word to us at ten in the morning that
he would like our company at breakfast. The farmer’s wife prepared a
special breakfast, cooking a young lamb. The good wife brought our her
best dishes and loaded the table with her choicest food, for even in
Iceland, it is not every morning that the Governor takes breakfast with
the peasants.
The farmer at _Kalmungstúnga_, in former days, was accused by English
writers of overcharging travellers. In comparison with other Icelandic
rates it must be stated that there is still some truth in the assertion.
However, he is enterprising, has built a fine large house with many
arrangements for comfort and all his supplies have to be transported
from the coast on the backs of the ponies. These things are expensive.
If the traveller enjoys unusual comfort here or elsewhere in Iceland it
is no more than common justness that he should pay unusual prices for
his accommodation. On this farm there has recently been constructed a
reinforced concrete stable, spacious enough for housing 500 sheep besides
numerous horses and cows. The Governor pointed out to me the signs of
prosperity while we were saddling the ponies and stated that more of the
farmers might do as well if they had the enterprise. I might say with
reference to our own bill at this farm that it was moderate but this is
possibly due to the fact that I had been of some assistance in treating
one of his favorite ponies that had a bad saddle gall on the shoulder.
It was one in the afternoon when we parted with the Governor to meet
him some days later in his beautiful home in _Reykjavik_. We then rode
down the green slope, and through the birch copse to the river, which we
found easily fordable, though it has a bad reputation. Looking up from
the hayfield, with its harvest in the full gathering, with men and women
busy, the ice-crowned pyramids stand,—
“Like giants clad in armor blue,
With helmets of a silver hue.”
This view is of great interest and beauty and I gazed longingly to the
peaks that enclose _Thórisdalr_, Thief’s-Dale, and desired to climb
those ridges of tumbled moraine and examine that great wall of eternal
ice that hangs above. The lack of sufficient time made it impossible.
This pleasure was experienced in 1913 when I came into _Kaldidalr_,
Cold-Valley from the opposite direction, having pitched my camp at
_Brunnar_, Springs, for several days. This view from _Kalmungstúnga_
leaves no doubt in the mind of the traveller that he is in the land of
_ice_; but when he turns towards the west, passes into the green valley
of the _Hvitá_ and comes into close proximity with the numerous hot
springs scattered over the plains and along the banks of the river a more
temperate climate is suggested.
Having crossed the _Geitlandsá_, Goat-River, we followed it down to
the _Barnafoss_, Child-Falls, so named because of the drowning of some
children at this place by accident. Some guide books call these falls the
_Geitlandsáfoss_, Goat-River-Falls. In ancient times, when places were
named in Iceland there must have been many goats in various portions of
the country for we came across the name in various places; thus there are
several “goat” mountains, “goat” gullies, “goat” rivers, etc. Personally
I have seen one flock of goats only in the entire range of my travels and
that was near _Ljósavatn_. The explanation is that they will not stand
the wet climate as well as the sheep. When the cold driving rains sweep
down the mountain slopes the goats run to shelter while the sheep will
continue their feeding.
At these falls the water, in a series of three strong leaps, drops over
one hundred feet into the canyon. The rock formation at this point is of
interest to the geologist, for there is a large mass of metamorphosed
obsidian. It is the only rock formation of this character that I have
ever witnessed, either in position or as samples in a collection of
minerals and rocks in science museums. An examination of this formation
leads to the following conclusion. In an early eruption a large mass of
obsidian was formed at this place. During a more recent lava flow the
heat of the adjacent flowing rock rendered this mass of obsidian plastic;
this caused it to stick to the passing lava stream, like molten glass,
and it was thus pulled, twisted and stretched into its present shape.
This is a lovely series of _fosses_. The water from the rapidly melting
glaciers pours out of the narrow confines of the basaltic canyon and at
the foot of each fall forms a grand basin of emerald green water in a
weird rock setting. Towards _Kalmungstúnga_ there is a good sized forest,
for Iceland, and the grass plains, through which this canyon cuts a great
gray gash, form a real oasis in this elevated lava waste, shut in by
towering mountains capped eternally with adamantine ice.
But by far the greatest interest here is the series of waterfalls, at
the foot of the _Barnafoss_, which pour out of the lava in a half-mile
series of cascades and waterspouts. North of _Kalmungstúnga_ the waters
from _Eyriks Jökull_ flow into the lava and doubtless into subterranean
channels like the tunnel of _Surtshellir_. This river flows many miles
under ground and reappears at this point beside the brink of the _Hvitá_
canyon. The rock formation which makes this strange waterfall possible is
as follows:—
A rift in the ancient basalt, doubtless the result of an earthquake,
formed the canyon of the _Geitlandsá_; later, another flow of lava
swept down the valley and stopped at the very brink of this rift so that
two great lava flows stand in sight, one above the other. Between these
two sheets of lava flows the lost river from the glaciers and here it
spurts out in a long series of cascades side by side. It is one of the
finest sights in Iceland and one that the traveller in Iceland usually
misses because it is off the regular trail. The guides do not always
call attention to it and I fear that many of them do not know of its
existence. It is a fact that few Icelanders know their own country, even
the portion of it which they sometimes attempt to show to tourists. There
are a few guides who know the travelled portion and know it thoroughly;
these men look askance upon their fellows who act as guides and do not
know every detail of the route, its history and its legends. The real
Icelandic guide will, if you encourage him the least bit, show every
point of interest and relate all the history and the legends. A story
is told by the guides at _Reykjavik_ of one of their fellow countrymen
who attempted to guide a man from _Geysir_ to _Gullfoss_, a distance of
from one and a half to two hours ride. After wandering about the country
all day and a part of the night they returned to _Geysir_ without having
seen the falls. He will never hear the end of it in _Reykjavik_. We have
Ólafur to thank for many profitable hours in his beloved land. The real
guide loves every spot to which he takes you and he feels that there is
nothing like it, nothing half so good anywhere else in the world. The
enthusiastic guide, filled with the love of his country and steeped in
its traditions is a boon to a traveller, no matter in what land he seeks
new scenes.
It was late when we left the falls and so we hastened across the rolling,
grass-grown hills to _Reykholt_, Steam-Stead. Down the long slope and
across the usual grass bog we rode and into the enclosure by the house
where we were welcomed and given comfortable quarters by the pastor. This
is historic ground, the site of the stead of _Snorri Sturlason_, “The
Herodotus of the north.”
Snorri was born in 1178, when only three years of age he went to
fostering at the home of _Saemund_, the Wise, at _Oddi_. _Saemund_ died
when Snorri was nineteen. Snorri’s father had considerable property but
after his death, Snorri’s mother, described as a “gay young widow” wasted
the substance and left the son to enter life’s activities with little.
In 1199 Snorri married the daughter of _Bersi_, the Wealthy, who lived
at _Borg_, the home of the famous _Skallagrim_. Snorri was now twenty
years old and he entered directly into public affairs. He early became
embroiled in partisan feuds but continued to gain power and following.
This lead to his attaining the position of the _Goði_ of his district.
The _Goði_ was a priestly ruler whose power and influence was supreme.
If one desires to know more of the life and functions of this ancient
official of the early days of Iceland he can get no better account than
that left in the writings of Snorri.
Snorri at this time obtained the stead of _Reykholt_ as a freehold and
at once separated from his wife. The date of this occurrence is prior to
1209 for we read that the Bishop of _Hólar_ spent the “winter of 1209 at
_Reykholt_ with _Snorri Sturlason_.” He had thus won the choicest holding
in the entire valley as well as the enviable position of _Goði_. “He
now became a great chieftain with ample means.” In 1215 he was elected
Speaker-at-Law, at the early age of thirty-seven and for a term of three
years. This was the highest honor in the land.
Snorri was a statesman, a poet, a scholar and a historian. It is in the
latter capacity that he is of the most interest to us. In 1218 he went
to Norway and was made a welcome guest at the homes of several of the
Earls and at the court of King _Hakon_ on account of his winning ways,
his ready wit, his commanding presence and the songs that he composed
in honor of his friends. He tarried two winters in Norway and it was
during the second winter that his love of wealth and power was used by
the King as a lever to influence him to betray Iceland into the hands of
the Norwegian monarch. Snorri and his warlike brothers had often been
embroiled in feuds especially with the masters of the trading ships
from Norway and from Orkney. From his position as _Goði_, Snorri had
the power to fix the prices and he often took advantage of his power to
enrich himself at the expense of the foreigners. The result of these
troubles was that an armed expedition was to be sent to Iceland by the
orders of King _Hakon_ under the conduct of Earle _Skuli_ to avenge their
countrymen who had been put to death in Iceland. Snorri knew what would
be the outcome of this expedition, how it would develop into a long
and hostile strife between the two countries and with most persuasive
language he assuaged the anger of the King and his Earle and held out
prospects that Icelanders might become the vassals of _Hakon_. This
suited the King, so Snorri was made a “landed-man,” the highest position
to which one of the King’s subjects could be elevated. Snorri, as a
vassal, immediately gave to the King all of his great estates in Iceland.
The King immediately returned them all to Snorri as his “landed-man” and
in the form of a Royal Grant. This swapping for an empty title was the
greatest mistake of Snorri’s life, and one that eventually led to his
premature death. The Icelanders never knew the real reason for this act
and they could bear no treason. Snorri, with all of his shrewdness, did
not forsee the outcome. In 1220 he returned to Iceland with great gifts
from both Earle and King. When he landed in the Westmann Islands in pomp
the people became suspicious of him and made slurring jests about him
even making parodies upon his own poems which cut Snorri to the quick.
[Illustration: _Árhver, River Hot Springs near Reykholt._
_Reykholt, Ancient Stead of Snorri, Typical Icelandic Farm._]
But he recovered his power and again won the confidence and esteem of
nearly all of the people and in 1222 they again made him Speaker for the
second time. It is quite probable that Snorri repented of his plan to
betray Iceland to Norway and we know that his excuse was to save Iceland
from immediate invasion. It is to be regretted that Icelanders did not
fully understand his reason. Most of Snorri’s troubles came from feudal
strife with his own relatives, especially his nephew, _Sturla_. At one
time this ungrateful nephew appropriated all of his uncle’s estates in
_Borg_ and endeavored to make himself the mighty man of Iceland. We can
not enter into the long conflict, how the people took sides with both
parties, how a thousand armed men marched down on peaceful _Borg_, how
Snorri in sorrow returned to Norway, tarried awhile and then came back to
his home in _Borg_ only to meet death in the cellar of his own house. It
may all be read in the story written by his nephew, _Sturla Thordson_.
Snorri was a man of peaceful disposition, avoiding arms when arbitration
could be employed, a man of business but not a man of action as men were
active in his day. He did not choose the turmoil of political strife into
which he was drawn. It was love of wealth and vanity that led to his
weakness at the court of _Hakon_ and which was misunderstood in Iceland
and which gave his enemies an opportunity. This was the one great mistake
of his life and he endeavored to atone for the weakness, but his enemies,
though they never knew the full story of this affair, never forgave him.
He paid for his error by being hewn to pieces in the cellar of his
home at _Reykholt_ on September 22, 1241. The mound of the great house
that was pulled down upon his remains has never been disturbed and the
beautiful marguerites have bloomed above it for centuries.
As a historian Snorri will always hold high rank. The _Heimskringla_,
the Story of the Kings of Norway, is a faithful picture of the times,
impartial, straightforward,—it is the story and not the historian that
the reader has before him when he opens these pages. Only once in that
long history is there any comment by the author. There is none of the
so called “philosophy of history” which has fogged so many historical
pages that have been written in modern days. Writers may well take a
lesson from Snorri, who “_let facts deliver the verdict_, keeping his
own judgment to himself.” Here in the dale of _Reykholt_, beside his
steaming springs and with his flocks and herds about him, Snorri writes
of the great kings of Norway, of their wars and their wanderings, their
labors for Christianity and the uplifting of their subjects. He bears
us away to Scotland and to England and often to Ireland, we learn of
the correspondence with the Emperor Frederick and King Louis of France,
we learn of James of Aragon, of William the Conqueror and Alphonse of
Castile,—he takes us to far away Algeria, to Tunis and to Greece, to
Venice and Constantinople and to holy Jerusalem. In 1300 he was described
as “a man to our knowledge most wise and fair-minded.”
Snorri’s language is simple, yet dignified, clear in thought and vivid in
the picture portrayed and in scenes described. His sentences are short
and graphic, clear and concise. His dialogs are frequent and to the
point. Silence, where it is sure to arouse the interest of the reader,
is artfully employed as is shown in the kidnapping of _Harek_ and in the
mysterious loss of two of King _Olaf’s_ ships at _Faroe_. In humor,
also, Snorri is a master and brings into his story bits of mirth and wit
that make his pages sparkle and give point to the story he is writing.
Witness the good wife who objected to the King’s using the middle of
the towel in the morning to wipe his face when he should have used the
lower end in the morning, the middle at noon and the top at night, thus
saving her two towels. His wit and his stories give point to his writings
and will insure their life as long as people love to dwell upon the
customs of their predecessors. Impartial, faithful, clear, Snorri brings
the story of the ancient times among the Norsemen down to his own day,
weaving into his warp the threads of fact that bound the Viking to the
British Isles, the sunny Mediterranean and the Holy Land as well as to
his beloved Iceland. He has erected for himself an enduring monument.
It is a tumbled mound, this grass-grown pile at _Reykholt_, but it is
all that is left of Snorri’s stately manor. In the quiet of the evening
I stood upon the heap, and the past of Iceland’s history rushed before
me, its long Viking period, the coming of the Cross and the troublesome
times that followed; in the story of Snorri I had learned of Norway’s
ancient days and Iceland’s matchless heroes. It is the same quiet meadow
at my feet and the same blue ridge in the distance that met the gaze of
Snorri, the people are the same in race and customs but in other things
how changed. The Cross has wrought its full influence. Were this mound
in other lands the spade would long since have explored its recesses in
search of relics and mementoes of this great man. It is sacred to the
Icelander and has never been disturbed.
Beside the mound is _Snorrilaug_, Snorri’s Bath. Next to the
_Heimskringla_ the bath is his greatest monument and serves better to
perpetuate the memory of the Sage of _Reykholt_ than any thing that
other hands could have wrought. It is circular in form, fifteen feet in
diameter and constructed of split stones which were fitted in an exact
manner and joined by means of a cement made on the spot by Snorri himself
out of the pulverized geyserite. The floor of the bath is of split tufa
and cemented with care. A stone bench, capable of seating thirty persons
is built around the inside of the bath with the wall for a back. A hot
spring, called _Scribla_, is located 500 feet from the bath and from
_Scribla_ to the bath Snorri constructed an underground passage out of
stones all carefully cemented together. In 1733 this conduit was shaken
by an earthquake and the Rev. Finn Jonson, Bishop of _Skálholt_, repaired
it. Aside from this incident, the bath stands to-day as when Snorri was
killed beside it. The steps from his house led directly down into the
bath. It is a masterpiece of work that remains intact after the centuries
so that one may turn on the hot water from _Scribla_ and use it to-day as
did Snorri during the first half of the thirteenth century.
The valley of _Reykholt_ contains many excellent hot springs, some of
which have lost part of their former power and do not spout because of
the disarrangement of their tubes by recent earthquakes. On a quiet
day steam rises from many places in the valley and along the banks of
the river. There is one spring of unique formation and peculiar in its
situation, the _Áhver_, River-Hot-Spring. It is in the middle of the
river that divides the valley. The river is broad but shallow and the
water is cold. In the middle of the stream rises the mound of the hot
spring several feet above the water. This mound contains three orifices
out of which boiling water pours vigorously. We waded out to this hot
mound and climbed to the top. There is no danger of being scalded because
the springs no longer spout as in former days on account of the before
mentioned earthquake, which has disturbed the tubes. In place of the
former periodical spouts of hot water there is now a continuous flow
in which the water rises one or two feet above the mouth of the tubes
and escapes with much spluttering and accompanied with large volumes
of steam. These tubes are a foot or more in diameter. It is a singular
location for a hot spring but there is another phenomenon even more
surprising. Below the mound of geyserite in the channel of the river
there is a long series of holes in the river bed out of which boiling
water spurts with such violence in places as to eject steam up through
the cold water. Our ponies in fording this stream were quite shy of these
hot holes in the bed of the river and insisted on going far down stream.
The valley is rich in grass, with many fine herds of cattle and flocks of
sheep. It was one of these rich pasture lands at the foot of the snowy
mountains, in Iceland that led Henderson, who realized how dependent was
the farmer upon the grass, to quote from Proverbs as follows:—
“Be thou diligent to know the state of thy flocks and look well to thy
herds; for riches are not forever, nor doth the crown endure to every
generation. The hay appeareth and the tender grass showeth itself, and
the herbs of the mountains are gathered. The lambs are for thy clothing,
and the goats are the price of thy field. And thou shalt have goat’s
milk enough for thy food, for the food of thy household and for the
maintenance of thy maidens.”
Yes, Iceland, the grass is thine and the flocks are thine. Nature has
cruelly deprived thee of mines and forests, of warmth for cultivating thy
rich soil; but she has peopled thee with a noble race, cradled amidst thy
fire-born hills which are crowned with everlasting ice. She has given to
thee sufficient grass for thy numerous flocks that thou mayest be clothed
and fed. An Arctic ocean “laves the feet of the White Lady” and its
every billow teems with the choicest of fish. In exchange for these the
merchant brings to thy marts those products of modern life which Europe
calls necessities but which to thee are luxuries.
A land of wonder is thy birthright, marvellously wrought by fire
and ice. It appeals to him who four times has visited thy shore and
has explored the inmost recesses of thy deserts, it appealed to thy
ancestors ten centuries since as a haven of liberty; mightily it appeals
to thee to-day. Thy sons upon Dakota’s plains, thy daughters by the
Winnipeg,—truants from thy hallowed dales and sloping greens,—oft feel
the wrenching of the heartstrings and oft turn back to fatherland and
home. Thy thousand years and more of warfare with the elements and thine
own internal strife, thy centuries of thraldom to priestly power and
greed of foreign merchant, thy years of famine and devastation by shaking
earth and burning mountain have left their mark deep graven in thy
forehead. But,—Thou art FREE. Before thee the future opens with promise
her ever widening portals, a promise radiant as the bow of _Baldar_
which oft spans thy misty vales. Let not internal strife, the copying of
foreign fashions and the jealousy of prospering neighbor be thy undoing.
Out of the terrible past hast thou come with many a reprimand and many a
sign to point the way which thou shouldst go, as plainly as thy _varðr_
guide the fog-bound traveller upon thy mountain moors.
If a foreigner, who has long studied the factors of thy problem and knows
something from experience of thy living struggle, may offer advice and
not offend,—it would be the quoted wisdom of Solomon:—
“_Be thou diligent to know the state of thy flocks_,” and then the words
of the poet will be thy experience:—
“Still, even here, content can spread a charm,
Redress the clime, and all its rage disarm,”—
and thine own saying will be full of truth:—
“ICELAND IS THE BEST PLACE ON WHICH THE SUN SHINES.”
FOOTNOTES
[1] See The Story of Harald Hairfair, Saga Library, Vol. III.
[2] _Fell_ is an isolated mountain while _fjall_ is the termination
applied to a mountain showing that it is a portion of a group or a range.
[3] _Fljót_ and _á_ each mean _river_ but there is the same distinction
between them as between _river_ and _brook_. _Fljót_ is a large river
with broad lake-like expansions and _á_ is an ordinary stream.
[4] Swinestye is ironical for _Swinefell_, Swine Hill, the home of
_Flosi_, the man who did the burning.
[5] With the exception of the last records, 1854 and 1913, this data is
compiled from the letters of _Von Troll_, Upsala, Sweden, 1777.
[6] Through fires placed under deceitful ashes.
[7] This was Baron Axel Klinckowström, of Stockholm, a member of our
scientific corps.
[8] About seventy-five per cent. of the molluscs that lived at this
period of the world’s history are represented by living species to-day.
[9] _Heimskringla_, Vol. I, Chap. LXXX.
[10] _Ibid._
APPENDIX
ICELANDIC PRONUNCIATION
Accent:—The _stress_ is always on the first syllable.
Vowels:—The vowel sounds vary considerably from the modern English and
much resemble the old Anglo-Saxon. Some changes have taken place in these
sounds since the classical period of the Icelandic literature which was
in the eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth centuries.
The following key will assist the reader to pronounce the Icelandic terms
in this volume.
a is pronounced like A in far.
á ” ” OU ” loud.
e ” ” E ” let.
é ” ” YE ” yellow.
i ” ” EE ” meek.
í ” ” I ” pit.
o ” ” OA ” road.
ö ” ” U ” murmur.
ý ” ” EE ” meet.
ae ” ” I ” prize.
au ” ” OI ” coin.
ey ” ” AY ” hay.
ei ” ” AY ” hay.
Consonants:—The alphabet was taken from the Latin with the addition of
two characters Þ _thorn_ and ð _ith_. The two have the sound of TH in
_thin_; the first is initial and the second may be in any syllable if it
is not initial, as ð in _Seyðisfjörðr_, pronounced say-this-fur-thur.
The consonants have practically the same values as in English except the
following, which should be noted:—
f _before_ L or N has the sound of B, thus,—
Krafla is pronounced as if spelled _Krabla_.
Hrafn, (raven,) is pronounced as if spelled _Hrabn_.
h is given its breathing sound.
h _before_ VI has the sound of Q, thus,—
Hvitá is pronounced as if spelled _Quee-tow_, O like O in cow.
ll when L is doubled the first L has the sound of T, thus, _fell_ is
pronounced _fetl_.
ð is sounded like TH in _thin_.
There is a tendency among the uneducated people to lisp or to smother
their words behind closed lips. When spoken by an educated person the
language is musical and pleasing.
* * * * *
Page 82,—_Family Names_:—The system of nomenclature given in Chapter VII
is the prevailing one, still there are a _few_ family names in Iceland.
This is due to settlers from foreign lands, who have kept their family
names and bequeathed them to their children. As an illustration I mention
the _Zoëga_ family, which, if my informant is correct, came from Italy
many years ago.
* * * * *
Page 84,—_Kárastaðir_:—Possibly a more probable derivation of this name
lies in the fact that in the early days of the settlement of this portion
of the country one of the settlers bore this name, _Kára_. Thus it should
be translated, the stead or the farm of _Kára_.
* * * * *
Page 89,—_Öxerá_:—It was not till the summer of 1913, a year after
Chapter VII was written, that I learned a most interesting thing about
this river so famous in Icelandic history. It seems that in ancient days
the river followed a natural channel near the ridge that rises above the
heath near _Kárastaðir_. It did not enter the lake, _Thingvallavatn_, by
the way of _Almannagjá_ as it does to-day.
The Vikings dispatched _Geitskour_ in 965 throughout the country to
choose a suitable place for the meeting of the _Althing_. After a summer
of travel he chose this sunken valley and named it _Thingvallir_. The
Vikings then turned the river from its ancient bed and caused it to
tumble into this rift. What joy there must have been in the hearts of
those sturdy old fellows as they stood on the opposite wall and watched
the torrent make its first plunge into the abyss! Hence _Axe River_, the
river whose channel was fashioned by their axes.
* * * * *
Page 92,—_Measuring Stone_:—Various authors have perpetuated the story of
this peculiar stone, as given in Chapter VII, that stands in the church
yard at _Thingvellir_. They tell us, and so do the guides, that it was
the standard of measurement adopted by an ancient _Althing_, from which
all linear measures in the country were taken.
Since writing Chapter VII, I have had another opportunity, in 1913, to
examine this stone with more care. I emphatically state that it was not
made by the hand of man and that the so-called “measuring marks” on it
are nothing but steam holes blown through it by the great pressure when
the stone was molten and cooling. The stone has been split open and the
marks have the appearance of having been placed there by man. To further
substantiate this I would refer to the fact that in 1913 Mr. J. C. Angus
of York, England, and myself saw numerous blocks of lava in various
places at _Mývatn_ with identical markings. Mr. Angus fully agrees with
me in the above statement about the “measuring stone.”
Further, if the people who examine this stone in the future will go
around it, examine it on all sides and near the ground they will find
actual holes that penetrate deeply into the stone in several places.
These have evidently escaped the eyes of those who like to point to this
as the “first standard of linear measurement ever prepared by the people
of northern Europe.” It is a pretty story and affords the guides a lot of
amusement,—but _facts are facts_.
* * * * *
Page 104,—_Brúará_:—There is another story differing from the one I gave
in Chapter VIII, though that one is correct, relative to the way in which
this river received its name of Bridge River. In the old days there was a
natural lava arch spanning the stream just below the site of the present
bridge. The story relates that a woman on the side of the river nearest
to _Geysir_ was widely known for her hospitality. In those days it was
the custom of the people to go “guesting” in the autumn and stay until
spring. The _Sagas_ are replete with such incidents.
At length this good lady became weary because of the large number of her
uninvited guests from across the river. She dispatched two of her thralls
in the autumn to break down the lava arch. This they did but they both
lost their lives in the flood when the arch fell. The natural arch gave
this stream the name of Bridge River. The illustration facing page 114
was taken from the present bridge.
* * * * *
Page 134,—_Galtalaekur_:—During the severe earthquake that preceded
the eruption of _Hekla_ in the latter part of April 1913 these ancient
buildings were entirely demolished. It was one of the oldest of
Icelandic turf houses. It has sheltered nearly all the people who have
ascended _Hekla_ for many generations.
* * * * *
Page 215,—_Skútustaðir_:—This should be derived, not from the Icelandic
_skúti_, cave, but from an old Viking who settled here by the name of
_Skúti_. I am indebted for this correction to Thorður Floventsson of
_Svatákot_.
* * * * *
Page 216,—_Kraká_:—This word is more correctly derived from the Icelandic
_Kraká_, the name of a witch. In Chapter XIII I derived it from _kraki_,
crow or raven. The following story was related to me in 1913, while
struggling along its boggy margin by my guide, Ólafur Eyvindsson.
“There was a witch by the name of _Kraká_ who lived in the mountains up
the valley. She became angry with a farmer over a piece of fine meadow
land which he refused to convey to her under any condition. Thereupon
she threatened to destroy it if he did not yield at once. He remained
obstinate. Soon a river poured out from the mountains, laid waste the
farm and flooded the great meadow, as may be seen to this day, especially
if the traveller goes from _Skútustaðir_ to _Svatákot_, Black-River-Farm,
as we are now doing. In this instance his route will be across
_Graenavatn_, Green-Lake.”
_Graenavatn_ is a mighty meadow with water over all of it, but so shallow
that the grass stands in most places out of the water. It is only along
the edge of the river, _Kraká_, where the water has thrown up the black
sand, that it is possible for ponies to proceed.
* * * * *
_Railway_:—I have seen several paragraphs going the rounds of the
American press relative to a railroad in Iceland. I had a chance to ride
on this railroad in 1913. It is less than two miles in length. It is
merely an improvised affair to transport rocks from the quarry to the
two great breakwaters that are being built to protect the harbor of
_Reykjavik_.
There is some discussion in the _Althing_, (winter of 1914,) about the
construction of a railway from _Reykjavik_ into the rich grazing land
near _Eyrarbakki_. At the present writing nothing definite has been done.
It seems that it would be unwise to employ steam and ship the coal from
Scotland, when an electric road can be made much more cheaply and there
is such an abundance of water power for electricity.
INDEX
A
Aasberg, 35
Aberdeen, 35
Aegean, 32
_Áhver_, 296
_Akureyri_, 70, 203, 204, 207, 208, 215, 243, 245, 282
Alexander, 198
Alfred, 18
Algeria, 294
Algiers, 50, 51, 53
_Almannagjá_, 87, 91, 93, 94, 98
Alphonse of Castile, 294
_Althing_, 25, 64
America, 23, 34, 48, 61, 80, 114, 115, 138, 164, 168, 192, 212, 233, 240
Arabs, 215
Arbo, 65
Arctic Club, 151, 233
Ari, the Wise, 28
Arge, Peter, 39, 40, 46
_Ármannsfell_, 88, 89, 93
_Arnavatn_, 257, 276
Arrhenius, 238
_Ask_, 184, 188
_Askja_, 198, 285
Auth, 20
B
Bache, 65
Baedeker, 65
_Baegisá_, 247
_Baegisádalr_, 247
Bagge, 51
Baldar, 298
Baltic, 62
Barbary, 29, 50
_Barnafoss_, 288, 289
Baðstofa, 141
Belgium, 71
Benidiktsson, V., 198
Bergman, 238
Bergthora, 207
Berlin, 203, 237
_Berufjörðr_, 51, 187
Berzelius, 238
Bibliography, 29, 30
_Bihólsfjall_, 194
_Biskuptúngur_, 121
Bjarnafell, 103
Björnsson, G., 63
_Blandá_, 259
_Blesi_, 110, 113
_Bolstaðarhlið_, 258
Borg, 252, 291, 293
Boston, 63
_Botnia_, 185, 200, 202, 204, 237
Brattleboro, Vt., 136
_Breiðifjörðr_, 20
British Isles, 31
_Brúará_, 102
Bruges, 275
Brunnar, 288
Brussels, 65
Bryant-Melville Cask, 198
_Burnt Njal_, 22, 25, 28, 48, 89, 93-95, 137, 154, 158, 207
Burton, Capt., 153
Byzantium, 23
C
Caine, Hall, 83, 92
Cathedral, 65
_Ceres_, 180, 181
Cicero, 32
Coffee, 106
Connecticut, 275
Constantinople, 31, 294
Copenhagen, 28, 34, 67-69, 163, 180
Creameries, 158
D
Danes, 51, 106, 163, 244
Dasent, 22, 28
Denmark, 14, 28, 29, 38, 39, 41, 64, 68, 80, 89, 115, 127, 158, 172,
188, 192, 204, 240
_Dettifoss_, 119, 171, 213, 235
Dickens, 267
Dicuilus, 20
_Djúpá_, 209, 213
Dogs, 236
_Drangey_, 257, 258, 260
Driftwood Bay, 198
Dublin, 20
Dufferin, Lord, 103
E
Eastfirthers, 25
Edinburgh, 63, 136
Einarr, 262
_Eiðisvik_, 196
Eldborg, 172, 175
_Elliðaár_, 78
Emerson, 66
_Engey_, 179, 180
England, 17, 20, 28, 29, 41, 50, 64, 71, 80, 85, 91, 158, 159, 163
Ere-Dwellers, 27
Eric, 14
Erybyggja Saga, 20, 26
_Esja_, 74, 75, 79, 176
_Eskifjörðr_, 184-186, 222
Ethelred, 23
Europe, 17, 66, 70, 96, 114, 136, 138, 169, 179
_Eyjafjalla_, 48
_Eyjafjörðr_, 20, 203, 253
_Eyrarbakki_, 161, 162
_Eyriks Jökull_, 277, 279, 280, 289
Eyvindsson, Ólafur, 6, 78, 129, 204, 227, 238, 252, 256, 260, 277, 278,
286, 290
F
_Faroe_, 17, 18, 36, 37, 41, 43, 45, 56, 184, 192, 196, 197, 295
_Faskrudsfjörðr_, 184, 187, 201
Fata Morgana, 162
Faxa, 18
_Faxafjörðr_, 18, 59, 63, 79, 176
Finland, 268
_Flatey_, 203
_Fljótsheiði_, 213
Floki, 17, 18
Flosi, 48, 93, 94
_Flosigjá_, 96
_Fnjóská_, 206-208
Forests, 102
_Fram_, 198
France, 20, 29, 31, 41, 64, 71, 111, 138, 188, 189
Frederick, Emperor, 294
Frederick, King, 89, 102, 121, 122, 158, 159
Fridtjof, 200
Friedeberg, Walter, 202
Frigga, 21, 250
Fru Neilsin, 162, 163
_Fuglasker_, 58
G
_Galtalaekur_, 134, 141, 148, 157
Ganrade, 280
Gardar, 17, 18
Geirod, Lay of, 249
_Geitlandsá_, 288, 289
_Geitlands Jökull_, 286
Gentleman John, 50
Germany, 71, 80, 91, 106, 108, 115, 122, 159, 172
_Gestavatn_, 174
Geyser Action, 109
_Geysir_, 98, 101, 103-113, 115-118, 290
Gisli, 266
Gizur, 25
Gloucester, 56
Glum, 266
Good Templars, 69
Gorm, 14
_Goðafoss_, 213
_Goðalands Jökull_, 154
Governor of Iceland, 286, 287
Gray, Asa, 128
Greece, 294
Greenland, 23, 34, 48
Grettir, 257, 258, 260, 277
_Grimdavik_, 50
_Grimstaðir_, 224
_Grimstunga_, 268
_Grimstungaheiði_, 275
Griss, 270
Grist Mill, 138
Gulf Stream, 199
_Gullfoss_, 116-121, 213, 290
Gunnar, 91, 95, 154, 166
Gyda, 14
H
_Hafnarfjörðr_, 51, 176, 178
Haggard, H. R., 119
Hakon, 292, 293
Halco, 36
Halfdan, 14
Halfreðr, 269-274
Halgerða, 91, 95
Halifax, 180
Hall, 25, 220, 221
Hallgrimsson, Jonas, 65, 136
_Hallmundarhraun_, 280
_Háls_, 208, 215
Harald Fairhaired, 14, 15, 17, 20, 31, 35, 237
Harek, 294
_Haukadalr_, 105, 112, 118
_Haukagil_, 269, 275
Haying, 139, 168
Hebrides, 17
_Heimaey_, 51, 53, 54, 56, 58, 154
Heimskringla, 28, 292, 295
_Hekla_, 113, 116, 122, 133, 134, 141, 142, 144-147, 152, 153, 157, 158,
226, 233
Hekla’s Eruptions, 145-147
_Helgafell_, 54, 56
Helgason, Kjartan, 125, 128
_Helgustaðir_, 187
Helsingfors, 104
Henderson, 5, 113, 138, 206, 207, 224, 282, 297
_Hengill_, 65, 94, 176
_Heraðsvötn_, 245, 255
Hjallti, 25
Hjaltalin, Jon., 246
Hjörleifr, 18, 47, 48, 53
_Hjörleifshfði_, 19
_Hlíðarendi_, 166, 178
_Hnausar_, 259
_Hofs Jökull_, 153, 257, 276
_Hólar_, 67, 291
Holland, 71
_Hólmar_, 222
_Holyfell_, 26
Hooker, Dr. W. J., 172, 173, 230
Horace, 32
_Hörgá_, 245-247
_Hörgárdalr_, 247
Hospitality, 163
Hotel Island, 60, 69
Hotel Reykjavik, 69
Howard the Halt, 27
Howell, F. W. W., 27, 28, 255, 256
_Hrafnagjá_, 88, 89, 98
_Hrafnarfjörðr_, 18, 178
Hrafnkell, 213, 262
_Hrafntinnuhryggr_, 232
_Hraundrangar_, 248
_Hruni_, 123, 124, 126, 127, 129, 131, 157
_Húsavik_, 17, 200, 201, 219, 235
_Hvamn_, 20
_Hverfjall_, 221, 237
_Hvitá_, 76, 113, 116, 119, 123, 148, 153, 164, 288, 289
_Hvitávatn_, 121, 277
I
Iceland Revisited, poem, 182
Iceland Spar, 186
Ingölfr, 18, 19, 24, 47, 48, 60, 162, 268
_Ingölfshöfði_, 19, 48, 162
Ingmundr, 268
Ireland, 17, 28
Isle of Man, 20
Isleifsson, O., 160
J
James, King, 50
Jan Mayen, 184, 190, 197, 198
Jensen, 244
Jerusalem, 294
Jochumsson, Matt., 136, 245, 256
_Jökullsá_, 119, 198, 235
Jónsson, Árni, 215-217
Jonson, Rev. Finn, 296
Jorgensen, 84
Jötunori, 280
K
_Kaldá_, 177
_Kaldidalr_, 288
_Kálfstindar_, 99
_Kálfstrond_, 236
_Kalmungstúnga_, 123, 279, 286, 288, 289
_Kárastaðir_, 84
Kari, 48, 137
_Keilir_, 74, 75
Kentucky, 240
_Kerlingafjáll_, 121
Kettil, 20
Kirkwall, 35
_Kleifavatn_, 175
Klinckowström, Baron Axel, 55, 199, 202, 237
Kolfina, 270, 272
Kolskegg, 159
Kolyma, 197
_Krafla_, 172, 221, 229, 232-334
_Kráká_, 216
_Krakatindr_, 148
_Krisuvik_, 116, 157, 170, 172, 174, 175, 230
_Krossaness_, 185
Küchler, Carl, 172
Kyle, 50, 51
L
Labrador, 43, 56, 180
_Lagthing_, 38, 39
_Lambafell_, 148
Landnamabók, 28, 56
_Langaness_, 184, 196, 200
_Láng Jökull_, 112, 116, 118, 153, 257, 276, 277
_Laugardalr_, 100
_Laugarfell_, 105, 107
_Laugarvatn_, 100
Laugarvegur, 61
_Laura_, 34-36, 106, 172
_Laxá_, 123, 131, 164
_Leirnúkr_, 221, 223, 232-234
Leith, 34
Lena, 197
Leper Hospital, 62
Linnaeus, 128, 238
Lithe, 159
_Ljósavatn_, 208, 209, 212, 213, 215, 238, 251, 288
_Ljósavatnsskarð_, 208
_Lögberg_, 29, 65, 93, 94, 96
Loki, 250
Loti, Pierre, 185, 189
London, 63, 92
Longfellow, 271
Louis, King, 294
Luther, Martin, 67
M
Magnus, 36
Manneling, A. V., 104
Margrjet, 53
Mark Twain, 114
_Markarfljót_, 154, 158
_Matador_, 188, 190-192, 194, 196, 199, 200, 202
Matterhorn, 153
Mediterranean, 21, 31, 43, 153
_Meijarsoeti_, 258
Meteorological, 72, 73
_Miklibaer_, 123, 254, 255
_Miðdalr_, 102
Mohammed, 51
Moors, 50
Morad, 54
Mord, 94
Morris, Wm., 128
_Mossfellsheiði_, 83
_Möðruvellir_, 245
Mý, 101
_Mývatn_, 99, 174, 201, 204, 213, 218-221, 234, 238
N
Naddodd, 17
_Námaskarð_, 221, 229, 232
Nansen, 198
Naup, Head, 36
New England, 46, 48, 63, 85, 127, 131, 134, 163, 275
New Hampshire, 77, 127, 140
New York, 63, 81, 179
New Zealand, 107
Niagara, 120, 213
Nicol, 187
_Noefrhólt_, 142
Nomenclature, 82
Norna, 35, 43
North Dakota, 192, 215
Norway, 17, 19, 20, 23, 25, 27, 28, 40-43, 62, 70, 71, 111, 115, 147,
163, 186, 292
Nova Zembla, 199
O
Obi, 197
_Oddeyri_, 245
Oddi, 159, 160, 291
Odin, 21, 24, 26, 48, 95, 220, 280, 281
Olaf, the Holy, 25
Olaf, the White, 20
Old Man of Hoy, 36, 43
_Ölfusá_, 25, 103, 116, 164, 167
_Öraefa_, 18, 19, 229, 255
Orkneys, 17, 19, 20, 35, 41, 43
_Óseyri_, 164
Oswald, Miss, 5, 135, 272
_Öxerá_, 89, 90, 93, 95, 119
_Öxnadalr_, 247, 248, 251
P
Paris, 92
Paul, 50
Pentland, 35
Periodicals, 69
Perret, Frank, 153
Peterhead, 35
Philippines, 192
Pliocene Formation, 201
Ponies, 76, 104, 118, 133, 155, 165, 238
Povelsen, 285
Powell, York, 27
R
Rangar Sands, 54
_Rauðagnúpa_, 198
Religion, 68
_Reydarfjörðr_, 185
_Reykholt_, 28, 290, 291, 294-296
_Reykjahlið_, 223-225, 235
_Reykjaness_, 58, 167, 174
_Reykjavik_, 19, 29, 59-61, 63-65, 68, 70, 71, 78, 81, 92, 104, 130, 136,
152, 162, 175, 176, 178, 179, 188, 204, 212, 278, 287, 290
Rognavald, 15
S
Saemundr, 27, 159, 280, 291
Safnahús, 64, 65
Sámr, 213
Saxo Gramaticus, 111
Scandinavia, 26, 27, 42, 47, 48, 55, 62, 87, 92, 125, 138
_Scandsá_, 53
_Scarpa_, 185
Scheele, 238
Schley, W. S., 151
Schools, 69, 157
Scott, Sir W., 43, 267
Scotland, 17, 35, 40, 62, 240
_Scribla_, 296
_Seyðisfjörðr_, 63, 184, 192, 195, 248
Shakespeare, 137
Shetland, 17, 19, 147
Siberia, 86, 197, 199
Sigurðsson, Jon., 29, 65
_Silfrastaðir_, 254, 255
_Skagafjörðr_, 252, 255, 257
_Skálafell_, 79
_Skálholt_, 68, 296
Skallagrim, 291
Skapti, 137
Skarpðin, 65
_Skipholt_, 121-123
_Skjalbreith_, 257, 282
_Skjálfandafljót_, 213
_Skálfandi_, 201
_Skjalfandifjörðr_, 17
_Skogafoss_, 48
Skuli, 292
_Skútustaðir_, 123, 217, 218, 221, 222, 237, 238
_Slútness_, 224, 225
_Snaefells_, 74, 79, 176
_Snaeland_, 17
Snorri, the Priest, 25, 26, 95
Snorri, Sturlason, 28, 159, 178, 271, 291, 295, 296
_Snorrilaug_, 295
Soap, 109
Solfatara, 172
Spain, 192
Spitzbergen, 198
_Sprengisandur_, 153
Springfield, Mass., 233, 235
Stackhouse, J. F., 184
Stockholm, 55, 200, 237
_Stórigjá_, 224
_Stranda Kirkja_, 170
_Strokr_, 110, 111
_Strömö_, 37, 38, 40
Sulfur, 173, 174
_Súlur_, 93
_Surtshellir_, 280, 286, 289
Surtur, 279, 281
_Sveiflaháls_, 177
Sveinbjórn, 136
Sweden, 71, 106, 115, 170
Syssel, 216
T
Thangbrand, 25, 220, 221
_Thangbrandspollr_, 220
Thinghús, 64, 65, 68, 216, 222
_Thingvallavatn_, 79, 84, 93, 164, 174
_Thingvellir_, 25, 29, 77, 78, 83, 87, 89, 96, 162, 257, 282
_Thjórsá_, 131, 132, 148, 153, 162
_Thjórsáholt_, 132
_Thjórsátún_, 160
Thor, 21, 120, 220, 250, 251
Thordson, Sturla, 293
_Thórisdalr_, 257, 288
Thorlak, Bishop, 67
Thorlaksson, Bishop, 28, 67, 68
Thorlaksson, Sira, 247
Thoroddsen, Th., 66
_Thorshavn_, 36-38
Thorstein, 51
Thorstein, Jon., 52
Thorun, 20
Thorvald, 220
Thorvaldsen, A., 68
_Thverá_, 248
Tilton, Capt. D. N., 198
_Tindfjallajökull_, 153
Tintron, 99, 219, 220
Tryggvason, Olaf, 25, 220, 269, 295
Tubal Cain, 132
_Túngufljót_, 105, 116-118, 121, 164
Tunis, 294
U
United States, 62, 63, 71, 80, 179, 215
Upsala, 203
Utgard-Loki, 120
_Utlið_, 103
V
Vafthruðnis, 280, 281
Valgerðr, 269
_Valhöll_, 89-91
_Varmá_, 164
_Vatna Jökull_, 153
_Vatnsdalr_, 266
_Vaðlaheiði_, 205
Verbruggen, 65
Verne, Jules, 282
_Vestdalsheiði_, 193
_Vestmannaeyjar_, 49
_Vestr-Rángá_, 142
Vesuvius, 148, 149, 153
_Vigriði_, 281
_Vilborg_, 53
_Vilpá_, 53
_Vindheima_, 206, 246
_Víti_, 234, 235
_Viðey_, 180
_Viðimýri_, 257
_Vogsósar_, 171
Von Troll, 146
_Vopnafjörðr_, 195, 200
W
Washington, George, 65
_Waterdale_, 27
Westman Isles, 19, 48, 49, 51, 53, 54, 144, 154, 298
White Mts., 233
William, the Conqueror, 294
_Winterlid_, 220
Worcester, Mass., 127
Wright, Frederick, 277
Y
Yankee, 47, 85, 167, 240
Yellowstone, 107
Yenisei, 197
Z
Zoëga, Geir, 6
Zoëga, Helgi, 6, 60, 61, 77, 204
Zoëga, Johannes, 76, 77, 81-83, 90, 98, 104, 106, 113, 142, 150, 154, 164
End of Project Gutenberg's Iceland, by Waterman Spaulding Chapman Russell