the east and west slopes of the Bláfjall and Hvannfell. Proceeding
in a S.S.E. direction we crossed the lava which occupies the
entire eastern side of the valley of Mývatn, and began to ascend
the hills at the base of the Bláfjall. We here inspected two small
but perfectly-formed craters, both of which had discharged lava
streams into the valley beneath. A little further up the hill to
the north of the Bláfjall we came upon the tracks of the Sulphur
Exploring Expedition, under the conduct of Capt. Burton, who had
passed that way a few days previously. From this point the hills
commanded a striking view of Mývatn, Krafla, and the neighbouring
mountains, with a glimpse to the south-west of Arnarfells Jökull
in the far distance. This we found was a difficult route for the
horses, and it did not improve as we reached the lava which had
flowed from the Fremri-Námur at the time of its latest eruption.
This lava stream had flowed into a valley between the Bláfjall
and the Hvannfell, destroying all herbage except a little “island
of green,” which it almost encircled; this small patch of verdure
is called Heilag (holy valley). Here, choosing a spot where there
was the most grass, we rested and lunched. The grass, however, was
not plentiful, the greater part being what is called kinder-grass
(sheep’s grass), or a mixture of straggling birch and salix
intermixed with coarse grass and herbage. The sheep eat this with
avidity, but horses must be very hungry before they will feed
upon it. As we were about to depart a heavy snow storm burst upon
us. My guide had no waterproof, but I had a large oilskin that Mr.
Kent, one of the sulphur explorers, had given to Paul; we therefore
took shelter under the lee of a crag in the ancient lava stream
underlying the grass-land, and improvised a roof with the oilskin
and our whips. We were imprisoned for more than an hour; so violent
was the storm that it was impossible to see many yards around
us. Eventually it cleared up; we had almost succeeded in keeping
ourselves dry, and I think our drenched and shivering horses were
only too glad to resume their journey.
It was getting on towards night; the wind was blowing from the
north-west, making our soaked saddles anything but pleasant, for so
suddenly had the storm come on that we had not time to unsaddle our
horses. We next followed the lava stream for some distance until
we sighted the yellow depression which marked the commencement of
the sulphur mines. As we decided that it would be more pleasant to
travel on foot, and that by doing so we could make better progress,
we fastened our horses each with his head tied to the tail of his
companion, and steered for the light yellow patches, from which a
few wreaths of steam were curling. A short climb brought us to
the most regularly-formed crater I have seen in Iceland. This was
an oval depression, with a circumference of about half-a-mile and
nearly 150 feet deep, called the “Great Kettle;” it was formed of a
scoriaceous basaltic lava. No lava stream had actually flowed from
this crater, but it seemed as if it had been tapped by a fissure
some distance westward, whence a great quantity of lava had flowed,
although all traces of such fissure or opening were now obscured by
lava. The principal sulphur mines are upon the north and east side
of the mountain, extending upon the latter right away up to the
edge of the crater, and breaking out even within the crater itself
upon its eastern side. I followed in the track of the exploring
party, as I had done at Hlíðar-Námur, and dug into several parts
of the solfataras. The sulphur here, as at the above-named place,
rests upon a bed of calcareo-siliceous clay, and is strewed in many
places with pieces of gypsum and fragments of lava coated with
various sublimations; in some parts I found the pure sulphur to
be upwards of two feet in thickness, the average thickness being,
perhaps, half-a-foot. These deposits are much more extensive than
those of Reykjahlíð, and I believe I did not inspect the whole of
them. Returning to the summit, the extensive view was anything
but a cheering one. To the east lay the Mývatns Orœfí, with its
black patches of new lava, the thin vapour which was rising from
it making it dim and indistinct; further to the south we looked
across the Trölladýngjur to Herðubreið, whose snowy cone was alone
brightened by the sunlight, which had long forsaken the dark,
shadowy waste of the Ódáðahraun; due south were the Dyngjufjöll
mountains, and upon them the night clouds were brooding heavily.
A strong wind was raising great clouds of dust upon the plain
which lay to the east between us and the Jökulsá. A fresh storm
was rapidly shutting out the twilight in the west, and an ominous
gloom had settled upon the rocks around us. A hunt after our horses
in a blinding storm would have been anything but pleasant in such
an inhospitable region, so we returned with all haste to our poor
trembling steeds. Then with our clothes stiffly frozen, and our
saddles covered with ice, all night long we rode in the face of a
blinding storm, at a snail’s pace, on account of the darkness.
By two A.M. we arrived at the foot of Bláfjall. The snow had turned
into rain, and amid a thick woolly fog we made our way over the
lava stream which lay between us and Grœnavatn. Our pace was of
necessity very slow, and it was not until four A.M. that we reached
the farm. Here we found materials for a hearty meal spread out
for us by the good folks, who had long since retired to bed. After
doing justice to the catering of our unconscious hosts, I posted up
my diary and turned in. On awaking again next morning I took a swim
in the lake, and breakfast preparatory to my departure with Paul
for Húsavík, where I hoped to have the pleasure of falling in with
the exploring party. Passing to the south of the Lake of Mývatn,
we crossed the Laxá (salmon river), which takes its name from the
abundance of salmon found in the more northerly portion of its
waters, and considerable time was here taken up in drinking coffee
with an old friend.
The river Laxá, I may here remark, rises in the west end of the
lake, and after flowing out a short distance is joined by the
Kráká. From Mývatn Lake to Grenjaðastaðir (which may be called
the upper portion of the river) its waters abound with trout and
char, but at that point a waterfall (the Brúarfoss) prevents the
salmon ascending the river any further. From the Brúarfoss to the
sea there is, however, some of the finest salmon and trout fishing
in Iceland, as many an English sportsman can testify. The Laxá, I
found, emptied itself into the sea at the Skjálfandifjörð, not very
far from the store at Húsavík.
Crossing the Mývatns Sandr, the road lies through an undulating
grazing country, and upon the high ground to the south of the
little Lake of Laugarvatn we caught sight simultaneously of the
steam from the hot springs of Reykir, to the north-east the
Arctic ocean, which washes the northern shore of Iceland, and the
mountains of Theistar-reykir, where a third series of sulphur mines
is located.
On, on we sped, as fast as our horses could carry us, as the
English steamer, for anything we knew, might be on the point of
starting. The Mýrarkvísl, however, was reached in good time, and
as I had stopped behind to give my horse a drink, leaving Paul to
go on before me, upon crossing the river I was pleased to find him
in conversation with Mr. Kent, who had been fishing. Great was my
joy, too, on finding that the steamer had not gone, and that the
exploring party was still at Húsavík. Soon after we proceeded to
the farm of Laxámyri, which was the best farm I had seen in the
country, and must have cost a great sum for an Icelander, as it
was built by Danish workmen, with a wooden carving of a salmon and
an eider duck over the front door to indicate the sources of the
owner’s wealth. Here I made a good meal, and after half-an-hour’s
nap we were off again, in company with Mr. Kent, for Húsavík, where
I met with a most hospitable reception from the members of the
Sulphur Prospecting Expedition, and Herra Guðmundson, the merchant.
The sulphur party, I found, were submitting to an enforced stay,
for their steamer was a week behind the time she was expected
to arrive. They were all lodged in the house of the sheriff,
which happened to be vacant, and a merry time they were having,
especially the sporting portion of their community, who, I have no
doubt, for a long time will sing the praises of Laxá.
Besides the veteran traveller Capt. Burton, there was another
member of the party known to fame, Mr. Baldwin, a companion of
the late Dr. Livingstone in his travels in Central Africa, whose
“Twelve Years of Sporting Experience in South Africa” presents a
series of vivid pictures of sporting travel.
Húsavík is pleasantly situated at the foot of Húsavík-urfjall, upon
the eastern side of the bay of Skjálfandi, and has a good harbour
except when the wind is blowing from the north. The mountains of
Víkna-fjöll upon the western side of the bay form a great addition
to the scenery; they were covered with snow even at this season of
the year.
Having so long followed in the wake of the exploring party, it
was impossible for me not to speculate upon the prospects of
“the North Iceland Sulphur Company,” and my lucubrations ran in
the following strain:--There is certainly no lack of sulphur
both at Hlíðar-Námur and at Fremri-Námur, and the report of the
_prospectors_ on the smaller solfataras of _Theistareykir-Námur_ is
a good one. The road between the sulphur mines and the sea is not
of such an impracticable nature but that it would be quite possible
to construct a road, or to sledge the sulphur down in the winter.
If the company set about their work in the right way and keep their
undertaking in the hands of some half-dozen capitalists, they will
probably not only enrich themselves, but also add another valuable
export to needy Iceland. If, however, the shares are sent into the
Stock Exchange, the chances are the undertaking will be weighted
with too much capital, and thus be at the mercy of cliques of
speculators belonging to that body.
After spending a night with the travellers, whose hospitality and
agreeable society added greatly to the pleasure of my stay at
Húsavík, the merchant, Herra Guðmundson invited me to stay with
him, and, as I needed rest, I accepted his kind invitation.
Nothing could exceed the kindness of my host, and I do not know
how the sulphur expedition would have fared had it not been for
his kindness and assistance. I was beyond measure sorry, on my
return to England, to see a long article in a Scotch newspaper,
from one member or some members of the party, disparaging almost
everything at Húsavík, and making invidious remarks about the wine
which Herra Guðmundson had supplied us with from his own cellar,
and which we had all partaken of with him at his house. Several
members of the expedition whom I have since had the pleasure of
meeting agree with me that it is a matter to be thoroughly ashamed
of. After a few days’ rest I left Húsavík to visit the remarkable
cliffs of Ásberg, which Herra Guðmundson had informed me were
equal to those of Thingvalla: his sister and nephew joined me,
so that, with Paul, we made up quite a pleasant little party.
Unfortunately, however, none of the other visitors were able to go
with us, for they were afraid the steam ship might arrive, and not
be able to wait their return. The road we took to Ásberg lay across
a monotonous stretch of country (the Reikjahlíð), which for the
greater part of the way was undulating high ground, covered with
ancient lava, partly grown over with dwarf straggling birch and
herbage. The track which leads across it is called Bláskógavegr,
or the way of the Blue forest. Bláberrie bushes are apparently
the largest trees one meets with here; they, however, were rather
abundant, and in some instances grew almost to the height of the
long straggling apologies for birch brush which were occasionally
to be met with. If it had not been that we were a merry party, I
should have felt the journey decidedly dull; but it was not, and
ultimately we arrived at the small farm of Ás about midnight, a
short distance to the west of the river Jökulsá, where we took
coffee, bought a lamb, and, accompanied by the farmer, proceeded
at sunrise to the cliffs of Ásberg. We found Ásberg to consist of
a V-shaped valley some 300 feet deep, surrounded by perpendicular
walls of basaltic lava to the east and west, while it opened out
towards the north, inosculating an elongated cliff of basaltic
lava, like a rocky island, towards the northern and widest part
of the valley. This glen is a little more than a Danish mile in
circumference, occurring towards the termination of an ancient lava
stream, supposed by Capt. Burton and the geologist who accompanied
his expedition to have been the work of pre-historic oceans, and
that the walls of the valley are old sea cliffs--probably they are
right.
The valley contains the finest wood I have seen in the island,
consisting of a thick growth of birch and willow, in many places
attaining to the height of thirty or forty feet.
Our guides informed us that in the spring time large streams
flowed over the cliffs at the south end of the valley, forming
magnificent cascades; and we noticed that in three places they had
worn water-courses for themselves, over which there now trickled
only a feeble stream. There were also two deep pits filled with
water, that appeared to have been hollowed out by the waterfalls
which in the spring empty themselves into them. It was a beautiful
day, and the fragrant birch reminded me of many a glorious ramble
in North West America. Here we bivouacked, and cooked our lamb to a
turn, under the supervision of our lady friend, and after enjoying
the meal we shouted ourselves almost hoarse in awakening the echoes
which probably had slumbered for years in the old grey cliffs, so
it was not until ten in the evening that we started on our homeward
journey. Right well and bravely did our lady ride, in spite of the
fatigue which she had undergone, over rough ground and smooth.
We stayed at a small farm called Geîtar Staðir (goats’ farm) for
coffee and a drink of goat’s milk, and arrived at Húsavík at 6 A.M.
The exploring party we found, with the exception of Mr. Tennant
and Mr. Baldwin, were about to start for the Dettifoss, intending
to take Ásberg in the way; so I passed a convivial evening with my
host, but was not sorry to turn in rather early. I was, however,
soon awakened abruptly by two voices which seemed familiar enough,
calling me to get up again. My early visitors proved to be Mr.
Slimond and Mr. Wight, of Leith, whose acquaintance I had the
pleasure of making in the previous spring, giving me warning that
the steamer Buda had arrived and was lying in Húsavík bay. On
hearing that, I hastily dressed, and having given orders to Paul to
take the best horses and start forthwith, bearing a note to Capt.
Burton and his party, with the letters which had arrived for them,
I proceeded with all haste to the Buda, to ask my newly-arrived
friends to breakfast with me.
Upon nearing the ship, Mr. Slimond called out that they were
just off to Borðeyri, and asked if I would join them. The steps
were just about to be hauled up the ship’s side, but I accepted
his offer, and in five minutes we were steaming out of the Bay
of Skjálfandi and sitting down to a genuine English breakfast.
After rounding the island of Flatey, which lies at the mouth of
the Skjálfandi, we obtained a beautiful view of the mountainous
coast of the north of the island. The weather was delightful, and
the pleasant society of old acquaintances, with the interesting
occupation of looking through the latest news from England, made
the twenty-four hours pass with amazing rapidity; so in fact I
felt quite sorry when the next morning found us steaming up the
Húnaflói upon the S.W. extremity of which Borðeyri is situated.
Here Capt. Cockle, whose acquaintance I had previously made, had
been waiting a whole fortnight with some 300 Icelandic ponies, the
delay having been occasioned by the break-down of the engine of the
Fifeshire, which Mr. Slimond had first chartered for his Icelandic
trip. Mr. Slimond, I must explain, entirely commands the Icelandic
horse trade, and has done more towards developing that branch of
commerce in Iceland than any other man. During the time he has been
in connexion with it, it is stated that he has spent over £50,000
in the country. This amount has wonderfully helped many of the
Icelanders to improve their dwellings, and it cannot fail to have
exercised a very beneficial influence in stimulating Icelandic
trade as well as assisting the development of other branches of
industry.
The horses were at last all penned into a corral, and by the time
the Buda was fairly anchored in the Húnaflói, the obstreperous
cargo was ready for shipment--a rather difficult matter, for the
horses had to be conveyed to the ship in small boats, and as their
respective ages varied from two to five years, as may be expected,
the trouble of getting them all conveyed to the ship, hoisted on
board, and stowed away can scarcely be described. While the process
of loading was going on I took a walk on shore, in the company of
Mrs. Slimond, her sister, and Mr. Wight, and I must say we neither
of us received a very favourable impression either of the place or
the people.
Borðeyri itself is uninteresting in the extreme, as most of the
more fertile parts of Iceland are; it is neither barren enough to
exhibit the desolate grandeur of many other portions of the island
through which I had travelled during the two previous months,
nor fertile enough to be pleasant to the eye. By dint of great
labour on the part of Mr. Slimond, Captain Cockle, and some of the
ship’s crew, together with the tardy assistance of some of the
inhabitants of the place, the animals were at length stowed away,
the Buda steamed out of the Húnaflói, and we arrived at Húsavík
the following morning. Here the Sulphur Company came on board with
all their belongings; Mr. Locke, however, remained, as he had
some further business to transact at Húsavík and Reykjavík; so I
took leave of Mr. Slimond and his party with many thanks for his
hospitality, and, having shaken hands with the other members of
the company, we parted with mutual good wishes for our respective
journeys.
Accompanied by Mr. Locke, I climbed into the little boat that was
waiting for us, and returned to our kind host, Herra Guðmundson,
while the good ship Buda sped on her way to Scotland. Mr. Locke,
Herra Guðmundson, and his sister were bound for Reykjavík, but I
intended to cross the Sprengisandr, and pay a visit to the Skaptar
Jökull. We therefore agreed to journey part of the way together,
and I was easily persuaded to accompany them as far as Akreyri,
as I wished to see the place--town it can scarcely be called--of
second importance in Iceland. The next day, therefore, Mr. Locke,
Herra Guðmundson, his wife, his sister, his little son, and a
servant, Paul, Olgi, and myself, all set out first for Mývatn,
where I inspected the solfatara I had cleared of its sulphur about
three weeks before, and found it had quite a yellow tinge, although
there was no appreciable fresh deposit of sulphur. From Mývatn we
advanced towards Akreyri, and crossing the river Skjálfandifljót
(quivering flood), we turned to the N.W., to view the waterfall
of Godafoss. This waterfall is but a tame affair after Dettifoss,
and the fall is about thirty-five feet; but the Skjálfandi is a
much smaller river than the Jökulsá. There is, however, a finer
waterfall higher up, upon the Skjálfandifljót, a distance of about
a day-and-a-half’s journey. We halted at the farm of Ljósavatn, and
next day took the road past the Lake of Ljósavatn (Lake of Light)
for Arkeyri, but at the lake Mrs. Guðmundson, her son, and servant
left us, and we rode briskly on, up the pass of Ljósavatnskarð. In
clear weather this must be a beautiful pass, but the clouds were
hanging so low upon the hills they obscured the view, and deprived
us of what otherwise would, no doubt, have been a grand prospect.
We soon reached the church and parsonage of Háls, and thence
descended into a valley, Fnjóskádalr, in which there is the finest
growth of birch, next to that in the valley of Ásberg, which had
as yet come under my notice. We next crossed the river of Fnjóská,
and forthwith commenced to ascend the heights of Vaðlaheiði, a
mountainous ridge upon the opposite side of the Eyjafjörð to
Akreyri. The summit of these heights was so enveloped in mist
that all hope of benefitting by the view which such an altitude,
viz. 2,118 feet, must of necessity command, was quite out of the
question, we therefore descended straight away to Akreyri, which we
reached by fording the mouth of the Eyjafjarðará, which can only be
done at low tide. Here we put up at the inn, where several friends
soon made their appearance, and a jolly time we had of it.
Although Akreyri is not so extensive a settlement as Reykjavík, it
possesses a much better harbour, being shut in upon the east by
the Vaðlaheiði, and upon the west by the hills of Súlur and the
outlying mountains of the Vindheima Jökull, which rise in some
places to the height of 3000 feet. The town is situated at the
south end of the Eyjafjörð (island firth), taking its name from
the little island of Hrísey which lies in its mouth. The trade of
this small place does not equal that of its sister settlement,
owing, perhaps, to the numerous stores situated in various fjords
in the north of Iceland, whereas Reykjavík and Eyrarbakki command
the trade of the greater part of the south, in consequence of the
iron-bound nature of its coast. Arkeyri is composed of two streets
of wooden frame-houses, one of which runs so close to the sea shore
as to be occasionally flooded, and it has a renown of its own, from
the largest trees in the whole island growing there. These however,
are merely two or three mountain-ash trees, about 25 to 30 feet in
height, flourishing in front of a house facing the fjord, belonging
to one of the principal store keepers!
The luxuriance of their growth is the more remarkable, as all the
attempts which have hitherto been made to grow trees in Reykjavík
have failed, although its mean temperature is much higher than that
of Akreyri. The explanation of this probably is that Akreyri is
one of the most sheltered spots in the island, while Reykjavík is
exposed to the full fury of the east and west winds.
A short distance to the north of the town we found a cluster of
black sheds, the filthy smell from which informed us at once of the
odoriferous business carried on there, which was at full swing. I
had often smelt from afar this same disgusting effluvium, and found
it to arise from the profitable but revolting work of extracting
oil from sharks’ livers. Accompanied by Paul, I determined to
inspect this manufacture, so, passing through an avenue of vats
full of sharks’ putrid livers, reeking and sweltering in the sun,
we thrust our pocket-handkerchiefs into our mouths and plunged
into the boiling-house. Here about half-a-dozen cauldrons of
sharks’ livers were simmering, and slowly “frying out” the filthy
but valuable shark-oil, exhaling the foulest stench imaginable.
Three grimy oleaginous men and a boy, who seemed to thrive amid
their abominable surroundings, were engaged in stoking the fires,
stirring up the stewing livers and baling out the oil, as it
accumulated, into a long trough, which discharged itself into a
large iron tank outside, whence it was drawn off again into barrels
ready for shipment to the various parts of the world where there
is a demand for such a very unpleasant lubricator. The men seemed
quite surprised that we found anything disagreeable in the smell of
the oil, and seemed quite to enjoy giving the cauldrons an extra
stir on our account, which was a pleasure we could have dispensed
with.
In the evening we paid a visit to the apothecary, whose house
seemed to be the rendezvous of all the captains whose ships were
lying in the harbour, and there we arranged to depart the next day.