of all forms of civilized religion when not clouded by fanaticism,
more especially among those whose lives are spent in close contact
with the ruder elements of the world.
The beautiful clear sunny weather continued, enabling us on the
following day to obtain a good view of the distant hills of
the Mývatn, across the arid waste of the Mývatns Örœfí, where
occasional puffs of wind were raising small clouds of the light
volcanic sand, carrying them high into the air. Sometimes, too,
circular currents raised screw-shaped columns of sand, which now
and then increased to rather formidable dimensions, and even
crossed the Jökulsá, blinding the chance traveller, and scaring
any stray sheep that might be cropping the tufts of scant herbage
sprinkled at long intervals over the plain.
The volcano in the Dyngjufjöll was smoking away with greater
ferocity than ever, and the dark columns which formed the centre of
the great mushroom of vapour which still hung over these remarkable
mountains showed that something heavier than steam was being
ejected.
Paul returned in the evening with a man from Grœnavatn, named
Thorlákur, who was to accompany me to the Ódáðahraun and the
Dyngjufjöll, but my difficulty lay in not having sufficient horses,
as Paul had found it impossible either to buy or hire more than
two, and they belonged to Thorlákur; and as I could not afford to
wait for my own, I was compelled to modify my plan of operations.
Requiring a fresh supply of necessaries, I first despatched Paul
to the stores at Vopnfjörðr, and then, with the rest of my men
and Thorlákur, set out for the Ódáðahraun on foot, one horse
carrying hay and the other provisions. Our first stage was to be
the Grafalandá, where there was plenty of grass, and our next some
point between the Dyngjufjöll mountains and the river Svartá,
within easy reach of the baggage I had left behind. From here I
determined to start with Thorlákur and Eyólfur, while the rest
returned to the Grafalandá with everything we did not absolutely
need, directing them in the meantime to fetch more provisions
from Grímstaðir, and a sufficient number of my own horses (which
doubtless by that time would have arrived) to carry us and our
belongings from the Grafalandá to Mývatn.
In the evening two of the farm servants, who were refugees from
some of the devastated farms in the Jökuldalr, recounted their
experiences during the eruptions of last spring, which, however, by
no means damped the ardour of my men.
The next day was spent in completing my preparations, and in the
evening, we bade adieu to Paul and our good friends at Grímstaðir,
after which we again turned our faces towards the mountains.
My supplies now consisted of 50 lbs. of pemmican, 25 lbs. of bread,
10 lbs. of butter, two large dried trout from Mývatn, and about
half-a-gallon of corn brandy.
Having crossed the ferry, my attention was arrested by a small
crater orgjà (chasm), as the natives called it, which had opened
in the plain about two miles to the west; it was an ancient vent,
named Hrossaberg, and many similar to it occur in the plain of
the Mývatns Örœfí. The fissures which had erupted in the spring
were of a like nature, and the heated lava from them we could just
perceive farther to the west, looking like a black bank, while from
it little clouds of steam were occasionally rising, and a thinnish,
darker vapour overshadowed it; and even at the distance we stood
from it pungent exhalations were perceptible. We continued on our
way towards Herðubreið in a southerly direction, over a desert of
sand and lava streams which had intersected and flowed over one
another, but my foot still greatly inconvenienced me, though I had
given it entire rest during my stay at Grímstaðir. At five A.M. we
stopped for half-an-hour to let the horses refresh themselves at
a patch of wild oats which here grew rather abundantly in patches,
generally in shape and size rather resembling ordinary haycocks, so
that in the distance they often made the plain appear as if it were
covered with hay in cocks all ready for carting. The peculiarity of
their form is doubtless due to the roots that protect the sand in
which they grow, while the sand on the surface of the surrounding
plain is being constantly swept away by the wind.
We were now in a line west of the hills of Grímsfjall, which are
not marked upon Olsen’s map. We pursued our journey with the
morning sun, and it is surprising what an effect the sunlight
has upon one, to refresh, cheer, and revive one’s strength. I
have often remarked (and others have told me they have done the
same) that, when travelling all night, the sensation of weakness
and weariness is most felt between the hours of one and three
o’clock in the morning, but as soon as the sun appears there is a
consciousness of refreshment almost as though one had slept.
We perceived a small quantity of steam, perhaps from a hot spring
or a fissure in the lava, about seven miles to our west, but I
could not spare time to inspect it.
We next reached the Grafalandá, which is a small river taking its
rise north-west of Herðubreið, and flows north-east into the
Jökulsá. This water no doubt comes from patches of snow upon the
Dyngjufjöll, the Trölladýngjur mountains and Herðubreið, and as
is generally the case around these mountains, loses itself in the
sand and lava at their base to reappear as a stream when it can no
longer find a subterranean passage. The banks of this stream were
covered with dwarf birch and salix, but the larger wood was dead,
and this would seem to show that the woods were more extensive and
of a stronger growth in bygone years than at the present time. I
have observed this in other parts of Iceland. There was also here
an abundance of grass, making it an excellent halting place for
anyone desirous of exploring the adjacent mountains. It was in
this vicinity, tradition tells us, that the last of the Icelandic
outlaws found a shelter, and, as late as a hundred years ago, one
man, named Eyvindr, lived here for a considerable time, and a cave
in the north of Herðubreið hill memorialises his handy-work, in
the shape of a horse carved upon its roof or walls. He appears,
however, to have been by no means of terrible character, and was in
great favour with the country people.
We next moved on to the river Lindá, about four miles in advance,
and three miles north-east of Herðubreið. Here there was good grass
for the horses, and angelica grew abundantly, and the stems and
roots of it were very acceptable and refreshing in a region so
void of vegetable life as this. I wonder the inhabitants do not
more cultivate it in their gardens, for I believe it would be quite
possible for them to acquire a national fondness for it as a staple
article of vegetable diet.
A short trudge over the lava brought us level with Herðubreið,
and here we soon began to observe signs of the volcano in the
Dyngjufjöll in the shape of the peculiar vitreous pumice I have
before mentioned.
Weary, weary work for sore feet this pumice-deluged country. Many
masses were four or five feet in circumference, but the majority
varied from the size of a man’s hand to that of a wine cork. In
many places it had drifted into huge beds, which was bad enough
for us to travel over, but it was still worse for the poor horses,
who seemed much fatigued with their journey. In ascending and
descending these large cinder heaps, great quantities would often
suddenly shift, leaving us deeper than our knees in dust and
pumice. We were steering west of the course we had taken from the
Vatna Jökull, and the pumice was thicker than we had yet found it;
while occasionally we met with round white masses of lava glazed
over upon the outside, but when broken they disclosed a highly
vesicular nature in their interior. This stony shower must have
been appalling, especially when accompanied by darkness, floods of
scalding water, and mephitic vapours.
The dust occasioned by our progress was excessively trying to the
eyes, and even penetrated our clothes. In many places floods of
water had evidently flowed from the direction of the volcano. The
pumice was rapidly decomposing under the action of the atmosphere,
especially where it was wet, and a great deal of it appeared
to have been ejected in a wet state, and had since absorbed a
kind of wet earthy matter, which seemed materially to assist its
decomposition. These floods of water from volcanoes which are
neither glacial nor snow-capped mountains, can only be explained
in two ways, either by supposing the water to have accumulated as
a subterranean lake in the chimney of the volcano, or that it was
previously entangled in the very elements of the matter ejected.
We were now leaving the Vaðalda hills to the east, and we could
see by what a tortuous course we had travelled by keeping so close
to the river Jökulsá on our journey to Grímstaðir. At two A.M. we
rested and gave the horses some hay, for they were very tired, and
most of my men had scarcely recovered from their long march. After
an hour’s rest, we again moved on; the men were suffering much
from thirst, for Icelanders drink more water when on a walking
expedition than any people I ever met with, which I suppose is
because they are accustomed to consume a great quantity of milk
when at home.
The pumice became finer and less deep as we advanced, and
remembering it had fallen in the winter, I dug through it to reach
the snow, which greatly relieved our thirst. We were now between
the Vaðalda and the Dyngjufjöll mountains, and from the top of a
lava field, almost buried beneath the pumice, we beheld the broad
sand plain we had crossed upon our journey from the Vatna. I here
noticed some rounded masses of lava, which were just the reverse
of the bombs I had seen before, being harder and more compact in
the centre than upon the exterior. The pumice now grew less and
less, and a gentle slope brought us to the sand plain; so, having
deposited our loads about one mile south-east of the Askja, and two
west of the southern extremity of the Vaðalda, I despatched two men
with the horses to seek the remainder of the belongings we had left
a week before upon the sand, about four miles away to the S.S.E.
We then pitched by the side of three or four large shallow pools
of water, formed by several small streams which here run from the
Dyngjufjöll and lose themselves in the sand, re-appearing, as I
have before described, as the Svartá, a few miles to the S.S.E.
The sand was very trying, for a westerly wind filled the air with
clouds of a most irritating dust. It was some time before the
men returned, when they informed me they had seen several sheep,
looking plump and well, and had found some grass near the source of
the Svartá, where they had given the horses a rest. Having taken
a good meal, I sent three of my men on their return journey, for
we had not sufficient hay to keep the horses any longer. I was
now left with only Thorlákur and Eyólfur, so we pitched our tent
in order that we might take a good sleep before setting out for
the Dyngjufjöll. The wind had died away upon the plain, the sand
no longer troubled us, the sun was shining warmly, so after our
long journey we were rewarded by a most refreshing sleep. Seven
P.M., however, saw us again on our legs. I had determined that the
volcanoes of Öskjugjá must be north-west of our present position,
and therefore decided to take a northern course along the E.S.E.
face of the mountains, and take the first _gill_ which should
anyway lead in a westerly direction. I also arranged for five days’
provision to be taken with us, and the remainder to be _cached_
upon the sand. Our whisky was now reduced to two small bottles
full, for I had been compelled to be rather liberal with it the
previous night. I therefore directed that a pint or more of water
should be placed in the keg, and this we left in the cache to await
our return.
Having crossed a few small streams to the north, which flowed into
the pools by which we had encamped, the road became tolerably good,
being formed of very fine pumice, sand, and mud that had evidently
been cast up by the volcano in question. This, in all probability,
had been showered down towards the termination of the eruption,
when the pumice had been many times ejected and swallowed again by
the volcano, thus reducing it to very small pieces, lapilli and
mud,--while at the same time the eruption itself was waxing feeble.
Our good road terminated after about three hours’ walking, and then
we trod again upon a series of heaps of large and most execrable
pumice. All night we continued our difficult progress, but no
_gill_ presented itself, up which we might turn towards the object
of our search.
My position may be imagined by the reader supposing himself toiling
over vast piles of rotten cinders, with 20 lbs. weight on his back,
in wet skin socks, with villanously sore feet. The circumstances
demanded a halt, for the sun was beginning to show itself in an arc
of misty, crimson light, which grew broader and broader and more
vivid with approaching day. To our left there arose crags to the
height of over 1000 feet above us, their sides being draped with
slopes of lava and shifting pumice. Around us were misshapen rocks
and conical eminences, carrying our thoughts back to eruptions
in bygone ages of the volcanic fires beneath. Here was a chasm,
yawning widely where it had not been filled up with pumice,
while many others cut deeply into the flanks of the surrounding
mountains. These were probably the result of the earthquakes
which had preceded the recent eruptions; while in the north of
the volcano we were now ascending they were very numerous, but I
did not observe any to the south of it. The wind was blowing from
the east, and hitherto the volcano had not troubled us with its
noisome smell; but as the heavy midnight clouds began to roll down
the mountain sides, a pungent sulphurous odour reminded us that
the dread power which had created the wilderness around was still
alive, though somewhat feeble, in the heart of the mountains which
seemed to scowl upon their nocturnal intruders. The snowy turban of
Herðubreið, however, was glowing in the sunlight, and the bright
face of the luminary broke through the eastern mists, showering
beautifully upon the cinder-strewn country around us the heavenly
gift of morning sunlight. “Já blessuð sólin,” exclaimed both my
companions. “Aye, the blessed sun!” and we all for some minutes
silently watched the approach of the tutelar spirit of Icelandic
travellers. Who can wonder at the uneducated or the uncivilized
worshipping the sun? Crude nature always regards what it cannot
understand with superstitious fear, and sometimes with love and
worship, and if we did not recognise in all a great Primeval Cause,
we might worthily deify the sun; but it was useless to lay dreaming
and it was too cold to lie still, and lying still would not get us
up the mountain, for up the mountain we were fain to go. We had
already gone too far to the north, and as there was no gill, we
must needs climb straight up, and steer for the thickest steam and
the foulest smell; in short, when our eyes failed, to follow our
noses.
Toiling up the sides of the mountain, the mist thickened, while
dense clouds settled around us as though they would draw us
into the volcano; the smell grew sickening, and the pumice more
muddy. What was falling, rain or sand? Neither; it was a kind of
fatty loam, falling in coarse granules, the smells from which
were most offensive, and it was very fortunate we were almost to
windward of the volcano, or progress would have been impossible.
My aneroid here marked 3500 feet, and as higher and higher we
climbed the mist cleared a little, until we stood upon the top;
while beneath us lay a pandemonium of steam and hideous sounds.
Suddenly a fearful crash made us stand aghast; it seemed as if half
the mountain had tumbled in upon the other side of this horrible
valley, and for some time we could see nothing for the dense
clouds of steam which seethed up before us, and the heavy rain of
loam which was falling, while the most hideous shrieks, groans,
booming and screaming sounds rose from all parts of this terrible
depression, the bottom of which was now utterly obscured. Again
and again came a crash and a roar from the opposite side, and also
occasionally from the side we were standing upon. The sides of
the crater were evidently falling in, and huge wide cracks, even
where we stood, showed us that our position was not altogether a
safe one; but the wind was clearing the clouds away, so, seating
ourselves upon some large blocks of pumice, we lit our pipes and
waited until we could obtain a better view. One thing was certain,
this was evidently the volcano of the Öskjugjá which had wrought
so much devastation in the Jökuldalr and its vicinity, and we were
upon the eastern wall of its crater! Presently the clouds lifted in
the distance, and as gap after gap, and space after space cleared,
we could see the scorched and blasted country which stretched for
many a league behind us. Mountain after mountain gradually shook
off the clouds in which the night had enfolded them, and as the
mist cleared toward the north we could distinguish a three-cornered
plain, encircled except at one point, N.N.E., by semi-detached
sections of volcanic mountains, some of which had broken out in
ancient times, and by their insignificant lava streams had helped
to swell the widely-extending lava stream of the Ódáðahraun.
The crater upon the eastern edge of which we stood was situated
in its southern corner. This plain was the Askja (or oval wooden
casket). It is about six miles long, and from three to four
broad, and at this end was some 4000 feet above sea level. I
believe it could be easily reached by a glen upon the N.E. side
of the Dyngjufjöll. Presently, apparently about a mile away to
the north, we could see the rim of the crater, at a great depth
beneath us, and while we were looking at it, a great crack opened
upon the margin, and a huge slice slipped with but little noise
into the crater, deep down beyond the range of vision. The mist,
however, somewhat cleared away, and then a shaft, like the mouth
of a large coal-pit, was disclosed to the N.N.E. corner of the
valley, but beyond the rim of the crater, from which a straight
column of pitch-black vapour was issuing. Boom, boom, from its
hoarse black throat, was succeeded in a few seconds by a heavy
shower of the coarse earthy granules before mentioned; then a
long line of chasms and holes burst to view in the dark floor of
the crater, from which issued screaming noises, intermingled with
inky vapour, patches of steaming ground, and gaping rifts and
chasms. The sun now broke through, and almost simultaneously the
clouds lifted from the valley, shaking off the Plutonic vapours
which had chained them during the night, and, as if ashamed to own
their temporary bondage in the presence of the lord of day, they
slunk away to windward. By this time we could see the whole of
the crater and its surroundings, except in places where the thick
smoke and steam intervened. I felt it was well worth taking the
journey from England to stand even for a moment and look into the
abyss which opened at our feet, with its black pits and grim chasms
all contributing to the general aggregate of steam, and loam, and
stench, and horrid sound; while behind us stretched a wild waste of
glen, desert, and mountain, a country moaning in ashes, and howling
with desolation.
This crater, which perhaps we may be allowed to call Öskjugjá,
or “the chasm of the oval casket,” is triangular in shape, and
is about five miles in circumference, the base of the triangle
being to the N.W., and about 1¼ English miles across. From this
base, which was nearly at the level of the plain of Askja, a
perpendicular wall of rock cut off all communication with the floor
of the crater, which sloped gradually towards the centre, to the
depth probably of four or five hundred feet below the plain above
described; but I had no opportunity of measuring it, as I could not
get down to the crater at any point, neither could I see nor hear
the stones which I flung in strike the bottom, as they gave back no
sound, on account of the soft mud into which they must have fallen;
for the floor of the crater appeared to be covered with the same
soft loam which was at intervals rained upon us.
[Illustration: THE ÖSKJUGJÁ.
_Page 88._]
The eastern and western sides of the crater converged towards the
south, being shut in by lofty mountains, which rose in some places
to the height of 1000 feet above the plain of Askja; so that they
appeared to be shorn of their inner faces by the violence of the
eruption, which had left perpendicular cliffs of great height. The
edges of the crater, too, were rapidly tumbling in, and had formed
in several places steep slopes of pumice and débris, which it was
quite possible to descend; all access to the floor of the crater,
however, was prevented by an interior rim of precipice immediately
at the bottom of these heights. How long this shape will remain
unaltered is, however, a matter of great doubt, for during our stay
there, sometimes scarcely a minute elapsed between the roar of
the stony avalanches, which increased the din and gradually altered
the form of the crater! Three principal lines of fissures, pits,
and irregular openings diverged from the centre of the crater to
the south-east and west respectively. These, together with black
patches of steaming ground and several minor cracks, were all that
remained of the huge chasm which at one time must have occupied
this valley.
I now selected a spot where there had been a considerable fall in
the wall of the crater, forming a slope of a much smaller angle
than anywhere else, and exposed a stratum of the previous winter’s
snow which enabled us to obtain sufficient water for our breakfast.
My men slept here while I posted up my diary, but I was presently
disturbed by a peculiar rushing sound. I instinctively looked
towards the crater, and there saw what at first sight seemed to
be a fog-bow amongst the steam, but presently the increasing
noise gave sufficient evidence of its true character. It was a
huge column of water springing up from a fissure in the bottom of
the crater, which, being ejected in a slanting direction, almost
described an arc, rising to a much greater height than even the
level of the spot we were encamped upon, was, of course, converted
into spray long before it reached such an elevation, and falling
with great violence upon the opposite edge of the valley, caused
a great portion of the wall of the crater at that point to fall
away with a prodigious noise, the concussion of which produced a
series of avalanches in various other parts of the volcano. One
could imagine, from the effect of such a comparatively small body
of water, what a terrible scene must have presented itself when the
mountain was in a state of general activity, and when the entire
crater vomited a vast volume of pumice, mud, and water, and the
whole valley beneath was a seething cauldron of fire and water! We
next removed to the lee of a large rock of agglomerate, and having
scooped a bed in the pumice, slept comfortably, with the tent
spread over all of us like one large blanket.