south of Iceland, the shortest being, however, the most difficult
road, which lies across the Sprengisandr, and the longest, but
easiest, across the Stórisandr. Mr. Locke, with Herra Guðmundson
and his sister, had resolved to go by the Stórisandr to Reykjavík,
and I wished to go by the Sprengisandr to the east, so that I might
visit the Skaptar Jökull. Although I intended to have left early,
it was night before we got away from Akreyri, for leave-taking
always occupies an indefinite time in inverse proportion to the
size of the place. Re-crossing Vaðlaheiði, we reached Ljósavatn
(where I had left my baggage and baggage-horses) with the daylight,
from whence we proceeded along the Skjálfandifljót to Stóruvellir.
The river Skjálfandifljót runs down a broad fertile valley shut
in by hills of basalt, which rise in some places as much as 1300
feet above the level of the river. From thence a broad stretch
of grass-land, extending some 25 miles long, brought us to
Stóruvellir, a flourishing farm surrounded by grass-lands. The
people, we found, were all busy hay-making; so I ascended the
hills behind the farm to look at the surrounding country, but
before I could reach the summit it had clouded over, and I could
see but a very short distance. Early next morning a man brought
word that a fresh eruption had broken out in the Mývatns Örœfí.
This was news indeed, and as it was Sunday, when some of the more
distant population would be assembled at the neighbouring church, I
despatched Paul to ascertain from them the accuracy of the news. In
the meanwhile, however, accompanied by the farmer’s son, I ascended
the hills to reconnoitre, and when about half-way up I espied a
tall dense column of white smoke in the east, which announced the
correctness of the intelligence we had received. On arriving at the
summit I looked again, and then perceived six smaller columns in a
line with the larger one, rising to about half its height. These
columns of smoke had evidently originated in the Mývatns Örœfí,
and rose in perpendicular columns, which spread out at the apex
like phantoms of giant palm trees in the calm atmosphere of that
early autumn Sabbath morning! The position I occupied commanded a
magnificent view of the Dyngjufjöll mountains and the Kverkfjöll,
both of which volcanoes lie south of the Mývatns Örœfí; neither
of these, however, seemed to be particularly disturbed, but the
mushroom-shaped cloud of smoke which had been there all the summer
still hovered over the Dyngjufjöll. There appeared, however, no
increase in the three thin columns of vapour I had before observed
rising from the Kverkfjöll. Looking in another direction I found
the country to the east obscured by what seemed to be a fog, which
was, probably, vapour and ashes from the fresh eruption drifting
slowly towards the Vatna Jökull. Presently the large volume of
smoke from the Mývatns Orœfí disappeared, leaving in its place a
cloud of thin black vapour, but before many seconds had elapsed it
again sprang up in three distinct bursts to more than its former
height. Hastily descending, I ordered the horses to be saddled, and
at once we rode away at full gallop towards the seat of the new
eruption.
By evening we reached the farm of Grœnavatn, where I had the
pleasure of again seeing Thorlákur and his brother-in-law, and I
forthwith made preparations for visiting the point of volcanic
activity the following morning, but my plans were frustrated by a
violent storm of rain, wind, and snow, which made it a matter of
impossibility to cross the hills; so, chafing at the delay, I was
compelled to postpone my expedition. During the previous night a
man had arrived from Grímstaðir, upon the eastern side of the
Mývatns Örœfí, and reported that between ten and eleven o’clock on
Sunday morning, August 15th, a smart shock of earthquake was felt
at that place, travelling from north-east to south-west, while
almost simultaneously columns of smoke were seen upon the plain
of Mývatns Örœfí, and forthwith an eruption commenced from the
same place as in the previous spring. Upon the 17th the storm had
sufficiently abated, so, accompanied by Jón, who had been my guide
to Fremri-Námur, I set out for the eruption. Upon entering a valley
in the mountains of Mývatn, by which we intended to gain access to
the Mývatns Örœfí, a few columns of smoke in the distance warned
us that the eruption lay before us, and as we emerged from the
glen, a line of some twenty columns of smoke burst upon our view,
while at the north end lay two clusters of black mounds in close
proximity. From the most southerly of these sprung up two columns
of dense black smoke, which struggling to ascend, were beaten back
to earth again by the wind in a foul heavy mist that spread itself
out for miles over the lava streams, both old and new, which lay
to eastward, clinging to the higher crags in dark, ominous-looking
masses, and obscuring large patches of the more level plain. From
its neighbour to the north a high column of stones, ashes, and
dust proclaimed the principal volcanic vent, and as we gazed upon
the scene, suddenly, with a roar, every particle seemed on fire,
while explosion after explosion hurled the larger fragments to a
height beyond our view in the dense canopy of vapour which hung
over us, making the ground upon which we stood and the rocks around
us tremble. While the lava sloped over the most northerly side,
the large column of fire sank, and only stones and cinders were
ejected. This column of _débris_ I noticed continually varied both
in size and volume, sometimes clustering like a large swarm of bees
in the smoke, apparently scarcely a hundred feet above the crater,
while at other times it shot up into a tall column with explosive
violence, the masses of scoriæ shrieking in their passage through
the air. This was followed by a calm, and then again by a rending
sound, as a new crater opened on the north side of the mound, which
ejected a stream of white hot lava that tumbled in a cascade of
fiery froth upon the old lava stream of the previous spring. At
this point a dense smoke and the sound of splitting rocks marked
its progress till it oozed in bright red viscous masses through the
interstices of the older lava, forming pools beyond the limit of
the elder stream, which glowed for a moment only and then turned
black. As we looked on these wonderful changes of the face of
nature, a dim twilight supervened, although only six P.M., so we
stopped upon a patch of wild oats which grew profusely upon many
parts of these sands, and here we left our horses to feed while we
took our evening meal upon a sand-bank commanding a full view of
the eruption, which was rather more than a mile away. The scene was
grand, but our horses did not appear to be particularly frightened
at the eruption, for after standing some time looking at it, they
quietly went on grazing.
On approaching the volcano as closely as the heated lava would
allow, I found it to consist of a cluster of black mounds,
describing together an irregular cone, from the centre of which,
and probably towards the termination of the spring-eruption,
a large crater had been formed, apparently little more than
half-a-mile in circumference; its northern wall had now evidently
been broken down, while from the centre rose the conical walls of
the crater then erupting. There was a breach also in the north
side, from which the lava poured at intervals, while numerous
cracks in the walls of the cone caused the glow from the intense
burning within to shine through with such brilliancy as to give the
summit the appearance of being wrapped in flames. As I intently
examined this, two smaller craters became suddenly visible, one
in the north base of the erupting mound and the other some little
distance further north, in the lava itself. Both these were burning
with a brilliant white light, and emitted a rending, crushing
sound, although erupting with little violence. From these two
craters the principal lava streams were advancing with considerable
rapidity, encircling from time to time patches of ancient lava
and sand which formed the plain, and finally overwhelming them in
its fiery embrace. As night closed in, the heated lava and the
noxious gases arising from it prevented me from getting nearer than
within a few hundred yards of the volcano, so I lit my pipe at the
nearest lava _coulée_ and returned to camp. There again, while
sitting by my tent, upon a high bank of volcanic sand, I gazed for
a long time upon the mighty fountains of volcanic fire, which in
one continuous stream assailed the sky with a glorious display of
natural pyrotechnics. All through the dark hours of the night the
volcano burned and roared, followed by explosion after explosion,
which shook the desolate waste around to its very foundation.
When I rose at midnight to take another look at this grand and
terrible spectacle, it was still energetically erupting with a
grandeur the equal of which I may never have another opportunity
of witnessing; for the grim sands and lava fields of the Mývatns
Örœfí were bathed in an unwonted light which reddened the lurid
sky and deepened the shadows amongst the weird crags of lava,
rendering them still more unearthly in that fire-blasted wilderness
in the midst of which we were encamped. The wind still blew freely
from the north-west, from which quarter, fortunately, it had been
blowing all the evening, so that I was enabled to reach a neck of
land almost encircled with lava within about two hundred yards of
the crater which was erupting. From this coign _d’avantage_ I was
able to examine minutely the progress of the eruption; but the
heat was very great even at this distance, while my field glass
shewed me that the fiery column seemed to be made up of myriads of
molten atoms. The whole scene was, in fact, utterly indescribable,
yet I could not but reflect how meagre and insignificant was even
that glorious display in comparison with those mighty fires which
have been occasionally let loose from such mountains as the Vatna
and Skaptar Jökulls, and how terrible! how utterly unapproachable
must have been their outburst! Yes, that is the unsatisfactory
part about them; when they are in full working order there is no
getting near them, and at other times one can only climb, shudder
and freeze over their temporary tombs.
However, nothing daunted, at 6 A.M. I started to examine the line
of smoking mounds which marked the course of the great fissure
or gjá (chasm). As mentioned before, this fissure was formed in
the early spring, and re-opened on the 15th August, 1875, to
give vent to the volcanic fires which have rifted and contorted
the surrounding plain. The erupting mound had grown about 50 or
60 feet in the night, but the eruption itself, as I saw it, was
evidently upon the wane. The next cluster of mounds towards the
south contained three craters, but the largest was covered with
whitish yellow sublimations, probably sulphur and sal-ammoniac.
This was tranquilly steaming and had evidently not been disturbed
during the recent outburst; in fact, all along the fissure there
occurred mounds at intervals, and some were smoking violently,
while many other smaller lateral cracks and fissures were likewise
smoking, but not to the same extent. These fissures, I noticed,
were entirely environed with hot lava, apparently of recent
production, and a depression in some places of 50 feet in depth
had sunk around them, varying from two to about four miles in
breadth, while numerous deep chasms crevassed the adjacent plain.
They were mostly parallel to the principal line of disturbance,
and as they approached the depression they increased in size and
depth, while those in close proximity to it ran into one another
where the ground was upheaved by a general chaotic dislocation. The
whole line of smoking fissures appeared to me to have erupted lava
both during the spring and at the eruption in August; the fissures
terminated in a series of cracks, the edges of which were in many
places covered with sublimations of sulphur and sal-ammoniac.
Aided by a strong north-westerly wind, which had fortunately been
blowing throughout my visit to this remarkable spot, and a strong
pair of leather boots, I succeeded at one point in traversing
the still hot lava, till I reached the principal fissure about
half-a-mile from its southern termination. In many places I found
it was four or five feet wide, in some places choked with solid
lava; and in others gaping widely open, but at some points it was
spanned with cinders and lava, encrusted with various sublimations,
which showed that there had been no recent outburst in that
particular spot. In some places, however, similar accumulations had
been scattered around by the recent disturbances, in fragments so
variously encrusted that at first sight I was led to suppose the
fissure had cast out great quantities of party-coloured cinders; at
all events, at all points where the eruption had been particularly
violent circles of cinders and clinkers had formed varying from
one or two to many feet in height, bridging over the fissure and
forming conical mounds wherever the outburst had continued for any
lengthened period. This struck me as being rather remarkable, as I
should almost have expected to find the clinkers, etc., piled up in
banks upon each side of the fissure, instead of assuming, as they
did, such regular shapes, often at right-angles with the fissures
producing them; but where the fissure was not blocked up it steamed
violently, emitting nauseous smells and making hoarse choking
sounds. Its depth I could not ascertain, as the emanations which
arose from the lava I was standing upon compelled me to beat a
hasty retreat, and indeed they made me feel dizzy for the remainder
of the day. This gjá is situated in the Mývatns Örœfí, in a line
parallel with Lake Mývatn, at the height of a little less than
1000 feet above sea level; its direction is N.N.E. to S.S.W. The
length of the fissure is about twelve English miles, and from it
has issued a lava stream of about fourteen English miles in length
and perhaps three-and-a-half broad upon an average, though it is
much narrower at some points than at others, especially towards
its southern extremity. This recent lava, both of the spring and
autumn, had flowed over the ancient lava and sand, rendering so
large a portion of the Mývatns Örœfí a useless desert; while it
had particularly overflowed an ancient lava stream, produced by
a vent in the west portion of the Mývatns Örœfí, called Svínagjá.
The new lava appeared to differ from the old only in this respect,
viz., that the ancient lava contained olivine, which the closest
microscopic examination failed to discover in the more recent
production. I also found that no pumice had been ejected from this
fissure up to last August; lava, stones, cinders and ashes only
having been thrown up. This spot may be regarded as the northern
centre of recent volcanic activity, and the Öskjugjá as the
southern, both occurring in the same rectilinear bearing, N.N.E.
and S.S.W., and so coinciding with the great fissure which it has
been presumed bisects the island from N.E. to S.W.
Carefully taking the bearings of the neighbouring mountains from
the south end of the fissure, I made two or three dashes over the
hot lava to look into the grim jaws of a chasm which had been
erupting with especial violence, where the various heights of the
conical mounds gauged the violence and the extent of the eruption;
but a very short distance farther north the heated lava became too
broad to permit of such excursions with any degree of safety, so
I ascended some elevated ground to the west, in order to obtain a
bird’s-eye view of the seat of eruption.
This fissure, as I have before said, extends through a
recently-formed depression, in the direction N.N.E. to S.S.W.,
extending from about one mile north of the road from Grímstaðir
to Reikjahlíð to a point bearing Jörundr 19° N., Búrfell 349°
N.W. It had erupted in seven places with great violence, and had
formed there conical hills, containing several craters. After
inspecting these, I turned my back upon the line of steaming vents,
having seen all that could be seen, and I was well contented with
my little expedition. After a while we reached our horses by a
short cut over the ancient lava, which had flowed partly from
the Svínagjá and partly from the Mývatn hills, then returning to
Grœnavatn, and proceeded thence to Stóruvellir the next day.
We left Stóruvellir amid a heavy gale and were accompanied by
the farmer as far as Halldórstaðir where the priest, who spoke a
little English, would not hear of our leaving without partaking of
coffee, chocolate, or schnapps. We took leave here of the bóndi of
Stóruvellir, who had treated us hospitably and had charged very
moderately.
Leaving here we next made our way to Mýri, where lived an old man
whose father was the first to cross the Sprengisandr, in 1810, as
the south of Iceland previously had been always reached by crossing
the Stórisandr. This old man was pleased to see me, and gladly
gave me an account of the road, written by his father, to guide
future travellers, and my informant I found was eighty-three years
of age. Before leaving my new acquaintance I purchased a spoon
of him said to be fifty years old. This was quite an ingenious
novelty, for when unscrewed it divided into fifteen different
pieces; I also bought a wooden roller which used to serve the
purpose of a mangle a few centuries back, and a rude representation
of the crucifixion in needlework upon green wadmal (Icelandic
homespun cloth), which the old man told me had been worked by
the nuns of an Icelandic convent long, long ago,--he could not
say how long, but he knew that the banner was “eld gamalt” (very
old). He also informed me that when he first went to Reykjavík
for stock-fish no ships came to the north of Iceland, and that in
Reykjavík coffee and sugar cost five marks (about 1_s._ 10½_d._)
per pound, while they could only obtain fifteen skillings (3½_d._)
per pound for their wool. The present price of these commodities,
I may remark, is--coffee, three marks (1_s._ 1½_d._), sugar,
thirty-two to thirty-four skillings (6_d._ to 8_d._) per
pound--while they are now able to sell their wool at 1_s._ 1½_d._
per pound.
I sent Paul and Olgi on with the baggage while I, accompanied by
the old man’s son, went a little out of the way to visit the
waterfall of Alderjufoss, where the river Skjálfandifljót pours
into a rift in an ancient lava stream, about forty-five feet deep.
This sight is well worth going out of the way to see, as it is a
much finer fall than the Godafoss.
The most remarkable feature about these falls, however, is the
wall of rock over which they descend, the bottom of the wall being
composed of perpendicular basaltic columns, overlaid by a compact
basaltic lava of a very crystalline nature, while the columns
themselves are of a compact stony basaltic lava, but in neither
of the specimens I broke off could I find a single crystal. I
am, however, inclined to think that both lavas are of identical
composition, and of contemporaneous production.
Having satisfied my curiosity here I left the Alderjufoss behind,
and rode quickly after Paul and Olgi, overtaking them not far from
the lake of Ísholtsvatn, from whence a short ride brought us to the
farm of Ísholt, which was inhabited by a bachelor brother and his
three sisters. Here we enjoyed a good supper of char and potatoes
(for the latter were now of an edible size), and a good night’s
rest, preparatory to our journey across the Sprengisandr.
Although there are no fish in the Skjálfandifljót, there are plenty
in Ísholtsvatn and the Fiskiá, which flows out of it into the
Skjálfandifljót. I suppose this is on account of the turbid nature
of the water in the latter, which is purely a glacial stream.
After resting a while here I left Ísholt in company with the
farmer, and commenced our journey southwards, there being at the
time a severe storm of wind from the N.W., bearing with it clouds
of sand. On our way we paid a visit to the brother of the old man
of Mýri, from whom I obtained some more curiosities in the shape of
ancient spoons, one of which, like the other, could be separated
into fifteen different pieces, and an old Prayer-book, printed at
Hólar in 1742. This man lived at the farm of Mjófidalr (narrow
valley) and had the reputation of being a good herb doctor. I
found him pleased to see us, and before we left he treated us to a
compound of schnapps and angelica root which was very refreshing.
A fierce gale was blowing at the time from the S.W., and the sand
was intolerable, even penetrating through the gauze of our snow
spectacles, and almost blinding us; while at times the sand storm
was so heavy that we were unable to see one another even when
within touching distance. Our poor horses felt it very much, the
eyes of some being completely closed up, so that when we reached
to the grass hills to the north of Kiðagil, we were compelled to
halt and bathe their eyes with water. As the road here lay over
a series of stony hills, grown over in many places with moss and
scanty grass, the dust became less troublesome, and therefore
we were glad to alight in the evening at the song-famed Kiðagil
(goats’ valley). The last grass to be found upon the north side of
the Sprengisandr is in this valley, and it takes several hours’
hard riding before the next grass is reached.
This valley is fertilized by the river Kiðagilsá which runs through
it, and empties itself into the Skjálfandifljót at this spot. The
weather cleared beautifully in the evening, so I climbed to the
summit of Kiðagilshnukur, which commands an extensive view towards
the snowy heights of Arnarfells, the Tungufells, and the white
slopes of the Vatna Jökull, with their black cones and buttresses
protruding through the snow. To the N.E. stretched the country to
the north of the Vatna Jökull, with the well-remembered mountains
which I had traversed with so much interest, and the desert plains
over which I had trudged for many a weary hour, sore-footed and
tired. The wind had sunk to rest with the sun, and the serrated
outline of the Dyngjufjöll grew darker and darker, beneath the
heavy canopy of smoke which still hovered over them, while the
neighbouring mountains grew more indistinct and shadowy as the
light faded from the west.
My tent had been pitched in the valley below, the autumn nights
had now commenced, and the fitful gleam of the aurora told me
my summer work was almost ended. On looking around upon those
old familiar scenes--it might be for the last time--my emotion
was so great that my tongue, in its endeavours to give audible
expression to the sentiments that filled my breast, exclaimed
with all the enthusiasm my nature was capable of, “Farewell,
farewell, dear old Northernland! I came to your rugged and barren
shores an enthusiastic traveller, anxious and resolved to seek
out the wonderful things hidden in your frozen casket; and having
enjoyed your simple and honest hospitalities and gratified my
ambitious curiosity, I must now bid you adieu, bearing with me
an affectionate remembrance of your craters and geysers, your
mountains of eternal snow, and, above all, of the kind and faithful
services rendered me by your hardy and generous sons and daughters.”
Having relieved my emotion by this crude expression of my feelings,
I took one more fond look and then turned in to rest for the night,
feeling amid my regret at leaving old Iceland, something akin to
an inward pride, to think that although so humble a member of the
Alpine Club, I had been enabled to accomplish so much, and that,
too, notwithstanding the doubts of my friends, and the opinion of
Mr. Forbes, who seems to have formed very erroneous notions as to
the Vatna Jökull, or of the determination and endurance a member
of the Alpine Club is capable of if once he sets his mind upon
exploring a mountain.