THE INTERIOR--STRYTUR AND ITS LAVA
I commenced my survey the next morning before breakfast, when I went
out to the first position on the lava-peaks and there set up the
plane-table, that table which had so badly come to grief at the heels
of the runaway pony a few days before. My drawing-paper had been kicked
to pieces and was quite useless, and it was only by a chance that I was
able to attempt a survey at all. At Edinburgh, just before starting,
Thomas bought two or three small sheets of drawing-paper for his own
work, in order to be independent of my supply; it was lucky that he had
done so, for I was thus able to borrow from him. The size of the sheets
was much smaller than mine, and they did not nearly fill the table;
it did not much matter though, for part of the table was quite unfit
to work upon, because of the long holes where splinters were missing;
of course, the area of country capable of being mapped on a sheet was
reduced according to the size, and it meant the use of a greater number
of sheets of paper, which was a disadvantage; but the board of the
plane-table _could_ with care be worked upon, and there _was_ paper
available. Having set up the plane-table in position, I erected a
flag-post and returned to camp to breakfast. I found that Thomas had,
in the meantime, made a small survey on his own account of a line of
fissure running through the hot springs of Hveravellir, and had located
the position of the springs on that line.
The morning was so beautifully fine, and the sun shining so brightly,
that we breakfasted in the open at tables erected in front of the
tents. We photographed the camp and the party, with the guides at ease
close by. The frontispiece is from a negative, the property of Miss
Hastie, which was taken by the conductor. Our meals were not always
taken under such favourable conditions--the weather, as a rule, was
not good enough. We generally had them under cover of a tent, where
we messed in much closer quarters, small accidents being not uncommon
in consequence. One morning they were more numerous than usual: the
soup took a long time to boil, and when at last it was hot enough, the
conductor stumbled and spilled some of the precious liquid over the
"handy man," who would have preferred an internal application; then
somebody upset the coffee; soon afterwards ominous creaks were heard to
proceed from where the "nautical adviser" was seated on his camp-stool,
which finally collapsed, and our heavy-weight measured his length on
the ground. But such incidents as these, trivial as they were, served
to enliven us; they were specially diverting when the weather was
adverse.
The weather gave promise of great things, so Thomas and I started away
for our first position full of good intentions. I soon got to work, and
made excellent progress with my plane-tabling; but gradually there was
a change, the sky clouded over, and before long rain began to fall;
now, to work at a plane-table in the rain is impossible, so I had to
stop. We decided instead to measure along our base line towards the
second position at the other end of it. We started in a drizzling rain,
which increased as we proceeded; it was very difficult work, for the
line was over the roughest possible lava-field. We made good progress,
however, but when we had measured thirteen-sixteenths of a mile, it was
raining so heavily that, wet through as we then were, and with boots
filled with water, we resolved to abandon work for the day. After we
had started in the morning, the rest of the party proceeded to the
next camping-ground, a few miles farther on, at Thjofadal--a valley at
the foot of the big mountain of the region, Hrutafell. For this camp
we made tracks over a perfect wilderness, where the fantastic shapes
assumed by the lava were most wonderful. There were vents innumerable,
including a number of the fissure type; arches, too, that had resulted
from side pressure; also many other peculiar forms: pillars, circular
vents, etc. On nearing Thjofadal we emerged from the lava and entered
upon the moraines at the foot of the range bordering the great
ice-field of Lang Jökull. Passing over one of the spurs running down
from this outlying range, we dropped by a steep descent into the valley
of the Thjofadalsá, a small stream on the south side of the ridge
known as Kjalhraun (lava ridge) that crosses the lava-field by way of
Strytur, the highest spot in it.
The next morning Thomas and I returned to our first position.
Originally most of us had intended to make an attack upon Hrutafell,
the giant peak of Lang Jökull; but the rain had delayed my work by
the greater part of a day, so Thomas and I had to give up all idea of
attempting the ascent. The idea was finally abandoned by the other
members of the party, but a preliminary survey of the difficulties was
made by the conductor, who thought that he could see a way that might
render a successful ascent possible. The "handy man," being released
from the Hrutafell expedition, offered to lend a hand in measuring
the remainder of the base line, so he accompanied us back to position
number one; we also took Thorlakur, one of the guides, with us. On the
way, which was along the foot of the range outlying Lang Jökull, we had
to pass over a small snow-field, close to which we came upon a good
specimen of ropy lava.
After taking several photographs from my first position, we proceeded
along the base line to where a staff had been left to mark the point
already reached, and thence continued our measurements to the second
position at the other end of the base. We found the two positions
to be nearly a mile and a quarter apart. A more difficult piece of
measurement could not be imagined, taken as the line was over the
extremely rough surface of a broken-up scoriaceous lava-field. We
remained at the peak forming the second end of the base line for
several hours, during which period I was very busy at the plane-table.
We then proceeded towards the volcano, Strytur, across the lava, and
found it a scene of the wildest and most fantastic desolation--a
constant succession of rough lava, ropy surfaces, vents, arches,
snow-fields, and small lakes of icy coldness formed by melting snow.
Occasionally we had an unpleasant variation, for there were many bogs
that appeared to be quite solid until the plunging of a pony, as it
sank into one of them, told us that the apparently hard-looking surface
was a mass of mud with a number of lava blocks and stones set in it.
Arrived at Strytur, another indescribable scene of desolation met our
view. The lava was twisted and contorted in the wildest manner, and
mixed in the utmost confusion. The volcano has two craters, inner and
outer; the former rather more than three-eighths of a mile, and the
latter nearly five-eighths in diameter. The two horns are of peculiar
shape: the western horn being but an isolated pinnacle rising less than
a hundred feet above its surroundings; the eastern horn is another
isolated peak, but though one side of it is perpendicular, and goes
deep down into the inner crater, the other side falls gradually away in
the typical slope of a volcano. These two horns stand up as distinct
landmarks, and can be seen from a great distance to the north; in the
south, however, they are hidden, by intervening hills and mountains,
from many places that are but a short distance away. The inner crater
contains much lava debris, some of the blocks being of enormous size,
while in several places there is snow of unknown depth.
My third position was on the highest point of the eastern horn. The
wind was very cold, blowing as it was direct from the ice-field, and
my companions who had but little work to do had a trying time of it
in such an exposed position. They stood shivering in the cold, but
descended after a while to the foot of the horn, whence they whistled
away at short intervals in an endeavour to hurry me over the work;
but as there was no rain, I had, in spite of cold winds, to stick to
it, and take advantage of the opportunity to work at the plane-table.
I was hailed with delight when I did descend--delight at the prospect
of getting away from such a bleak, inhospitable spot. The view from
Strytur looking towards Hrutafell and the ice and snow field of Lang
Jökull is very fine. Once more we crossed the lava-field and made the
best of the way to our camp at Thjofadal.
Next day I was obliged to go on with my work without a companion,
and had not a smooth time of it altogether; things did not go right.
Over-night I had determined to fix my fourth position on the mountain
Rauthkollur, the highest point at the southern end of the outlying
range of Lang Jökull. I set out alone, for Thomas was in trouble with
his side, and the "handy man" did not look upon the expedition with
much interest, for the weather was most unfavourable for any one
not having special work to do--rain, hail, snow, and blow were the
conditions that held during the whole of the time that I was away from
camp. The way lay up a steep gorge between the mountain and a spur
running down from near the end of the range; the slopes of the gorge
were covered with scree that gave way at every step, and often I slid
back several yards before I could stop myself. The climb was a stiff
and very uncomfortable one, laden as I was with instruments, glasses,
camera, and plane-table; but by sticking to it I gradually ascended
yard by yard. I got off the scree whenever possible, and climbed up
the course of a small mountain stream; but there were many waterfalls
that could not be climbed, which caused me to return to the scree again
and again, often sending the loose material flying down in a series of
landslips. Higher up I skirted several small snow-fields, where better
progress was possible, for the scree at the edges of the snow did not
slip away so freely. The ascent would have been easy enough had I not
been so heavily and awkwardly laden, or had my hands been free.
At the summit of Rauthkollur a glorious view rewarded me. In front
stretched the great ice-field of Lang Jökull; away to the left was
the giant Hrutafell: three of its glaciers faced me, while a fourth
could just be seen at right angles to the others. The back of this
mountain merges in a series of hills that are set in the ice of Lang
Jökull. Below Hrutafell, and at the foot of the ice-cap of Lang
Jökull, a perfect network of streams came from the snow and ice; it
was interesting to trace their meanderings as they ran into stream
after stream, until finally all joined in one swift-running torrent
and flowed at the foot of the moraines below Hrutafell. Away to the
right I looked along the outlying range, on the end peak of which I was
standing, and down into the valley between the range and the ice-field.
In spite of the adverse weather, my plane-tabling was very successful
from this station; its commanding position enabled me to obtain a good
view of the surrounding country, not only over the ice-field, but
also over the country from which the ascent had been made. I looked
down into Thjofadal, right over the mountain Thjofafell, across the
lava-field to Strytur and Kjalfell, and to the ice-field of Hoff Jökull
beyond. Showers had to be dodged and plane-tabling done when it did
not rain or snow; but I filled up the intervals by taking several
photographs, and by making a boiling-point observation for altitude,
also clinometer observations for calculating the heights of surrounding
peaks.
The return to camp was made at a quicker rate than the ascent; but I
met with a nasty accident, by slipping on a stone in the gorge and
diving head first down a small waterfall into a pool of water below.
The plane-table turned over, and coming upon me, pinned me down in the
water for a few seconds; the camera was underneath in the water, which
was flowing through it, for the outside case was not water-tight. I
extricated myself in course of time, not much the worse for the fall;
a badly bruised knee, the loss of a quantity of skin from hands, and a
few minor bruises, being all the damage that I had received--it might
have been much worse, laden as I was. On arrival in camp I was patched
up, and the "nautical adviser" busied himself in preparing soup and
other comforts for the inner man, for which attentions I was grateful.
The other members of the party had not done very much in the bad
weather, one or two small excursions to spots in the neighbourhood
excepted. Late in the afternoon we struck camp and moved on a few miles
farther, to a spot known as Gránanes, right on the other side of the
lava-fields. Our way lay round by Hrutafell by the side of the river
Falakvisl, which runs in a deep gorge at the foot of the mountain. From
this river we struck across rough lava, then moraine matter, and again
lava right up to the river Svatá. The rivers, as a rule, run along at
the edges of the lava flows; there are some exceptions, however, and
one instance, in the west of the island, I will refer to in its proper
place. One very fine vent we came upon when crossing the lava. Gránanes
was on the other side of the Svatá, just by a spot where the water
falls ten or fifteen feet over a hard ledge of rock extending across
the river. Beyond the river all was moraine matter, great moraine
hills, the material of which has come down from Hoff Jökull and has
been piled up for miles along its margins. Many very fine erratics are
dotted about on the surface near Gránanes.
[Illustration: A VOLCANIC VENT OF THE FISSURE TYPE.]
It was on the moraine side of the river that we made our camp. Round
about there was lying a number of twigs and dried roots, the remains
of dwarf willows that had grown there when the conditions were rather
more favourable. Miss Hastie suggested that we might be energetic and
collect some of these in order to make a fire. It was a cold night, and
the idea of a camp-fire commended itself to us. We gathered together a
number of the twigs and roots, and Hill tried to ignite them. He raised
a dense smoke, but though he worked hard and fanned industriously he
was unable to induce a satisfactory blaze. Anyhow, it was cheering
to see the smoke rising into the air, and we did not mind being half
stifled when occasionally it was blown into our faces.
[Illustration: A SURVEY PHOTOGRAPH (NO. 169) FROM GRÁNANES ([Sun symbol]
E) LOOKING TOWARDS LANG JÖKULL.]
Next morning, after breakfast, I went up to a terrace of the moraine
where I made my fifth station, and fixed its position on the map; I
also did some plane-tabling while preparations were being made for an
expedition to Kerlingarfjöll.