GEYSIR AND THINGVELLIR
We were very near the margin of the desert interior, for within two or
three miles we arrived at the farm-house of Bratholt, the first human
habitation that we had seen for ten or twelve days. We had traversed
the uninhabited country and were then entering upon the final stage of
the journey across the island, where we expected to see some of the
better class of farms and farmers. Bratholt farm-house seemed to be
one of the superior kind--it was certainly the best that we had seen
so far. We lunched there, and while the meal was being prepared were
shown over the premises by the farmer's wife and daughters. A fine
specimen of an old kitchen attracted my attention, and I determined to
try to photograph it. The housewife was most anxious to help with the
camera. I had a difficulty in setting it up in a suitable position, so
she volunteered to hold it wherever I wanted it to stand. I tried to
explain that she could not hold it still enough, and that it would have
to be kept in one position for nearly ten minutes; she stood in the way
looking on till I fetched a guide to explain matters, when she left me
to my own devices. It was quite a picture, this kitchen; one of the
curiosities it contained was an old quern with a bone (human?) for a
handle. The room was as smoky as most of the Icelandic kitchens usually
are; in the roof there was a number of skins that had been hung up to
dry or placed there for preservation. Some three-legged pots stood in a
corner on the floor; a fire was burning in a fireplace built of lumps
of basalt, and the smoke that arose from the smouldering peat bricks
hung in the air till it gradually escaped through a hole in the roof.
We invaded the work-room and bed-chamber, which is usually called the
_bathstofa_. As its name implies, this chamber was once the bath-room
of the house; but bathing has gone much out of fashion with the
Icelander, and he no longer considers a tub at short intervals to be
desirable. The _bathstofa_ is now used as a living-room; it is fitted
up with a series of open bunks ranged along the sides, in which the
various members of the family repose at night; but the bunks serve not
only for sleeping purposes--they are often the receptacle for all sorts
of things, and we could hardly help noticing in one a miscellaneous
collection consisting of sugar, stockings, skin shoes, tea, etc. There
were several spinning-wheels in the room, and at our request the lady
of the house set to work at one of them. The family made cloth, various
articles of clothing from it, sheep-skin shoes, and bone spoons with
"Gullfoss" carved on them, for the "trippers" who call when on the way
to Gullfoss. One of the daughters was an expert in the use of vegetable
dyes; she was not at home, but we saw some of her work. We bought a
few things: shoes, stockings, gloves, rugs, etc., and the "handy man"
cleared out the stock of cloth and called for more, but more was not to
be had there. Later in the day, however, we passed another farm where
cloth could sometimes be bought; the "handy man" heard of this, and
we lost sight of him for more than an hour while he was, ostensibly,
making further purchases, though he did not seem to be overburdened
with their weight when at last he turned up. In the evening he remarked
on the beauty of a girl that he had seen at the farm, which raised
grave doubts as to whether the charms of this beauty had not been the
_real_ cause of his long stay there. We thought it mean of him not to
have informed us when in the neighbourhood, and told him so; he smiled
serenely, for we were then a safe distance away--half a day's journey.
We expected to camp that night at Geysir; so when the "handy man"
appeared with his bundle of cloth, we pushed on for that interesting
spot. We had to cross the river Tungufljot on the way; it is a rather
deep and swift-flowing river, but we made an excellent crossing at a
recently discovered ford where the water did not reach much above the
level of our stirrups.
At Geysir there is a region of hot springs, geysers, and blue, boiling
cauldrons, where one can stand on the sinter margins, look deep down
into the blue waters, and imagine whence they come. There is also a
number of holes where liquid mud bubbles and splutters. There are
geysers active, and others quiescent and extinct. Among the latter is
the celebrated Strokur--a few years ago it was very active, but now
it is quite dead; it died during an earthquake that occurred in 1896.
Although the earthquake stopped Strokur, it seems to have caused Great
Geysir itself to play with increased energy. Strokur had to be coaxed
into activity, but it was easily done by feeding it with lumps of turf,
which were thrown into its yawning mouth, wide open always and ready
for a meal. It never failed to give a display when properly fed. It was
when it had had a surfeit, and was likely to be choked with the turf,
that it erupted, ejecting the turf violently, and at the same time
shooting upward a column of boiling water and steam. But all this is of
the past--no quantity of turf will provoke it into activity now; it is
dead, and there is no indication that it was once the scene of violent
disturbance; nothing remains as a record of former glories but a hole
in the ground a few feet in diameter.
It was late in the evening when we arrived. The weather was not what we
should have liked, for it was dull and rainy; there had been much rain
at Geysir during the previous few days, and we were informed of the
fact by a farmer living in the neighbourhood. It is said that Geysir
erupts more frequently during and after a period of much rain, and also
when the wind blows from a certain quarter--I forget which quarter,
but that is immaterial now, for the all-important thing is that it was
then blowing in the favourable direction. Whether there is any real
ground for the reports I do not know, but I record the fact that during
a stay of about fourteen hours Geysir erupted six times, and that the
average is said to be one in twenty-four hours. The first eruption
occurred while we were at supper at about 10.15 P.M. There was a dull,
deep-seated thud somewhere below, a sort of subterranean rumbling
that caused us to inquire of our conductor, who was rather deaf,
what it was. We had previously been informed that certain premonitory
rumblings always preceded an eruption; but we were doubtful whether
what we then heard was the warning. The conductor had not heard it,
and he was endeavouring to explain to us the nature of the sound when
a guide rushed to the door of the tent to inform us that Geysir was
about to play. We hastily left our meal, made an abrupt exit from the
tent, and rushed to the spot. Surely enough it was in eruption, for
great clouds of steam were rising from the crater and rolling towards
us. We got to windward of the steam, and looked towards the crater, and
what a sight it was! High into the air, sixty, seventy, eighty feet up,
there was shooting stream after stream of boiling water, which fell in
showers of spray all around, some descending towards the crater and
meeting on its way the outgoing streams. A ring of sinter surrounds the
crater; it is raised ten to fifteen feet above the general level of the
ground, so the hot water that fell upon it ran off in a ring of little
cascades. It was a wonderful sight, this enormous natural fountain;
it continued to play for two or three minutes before it gradually
subsided and stopped--all was then still, save that the last of the
water was streaming over the edges of the sinter ring, whence a little
steam was rising. As soon as the eruption came to an end, we climbed
upon the ring, which has a diameter of something like a hundred feet;
there is a large depression or basin in it that is filled with water
before eruption, but it was then empty. In the middle of the basin
there is a funnel, said to be about sixty feet deep; at the surface
it is about sixteen feet in diameter. We stood on the edge of this
funnel or crater, looking down into its depths, the water then standing
at a level of something like fifteen feet below that at which we had
previously seen it.
[Illustration: THE SINTER RING OF GEYSIR.]
We returned to our interrupted meal, congratulating ourselves that
we had arrived just in time to witness the fine display, without at
all expecting that we should have another opportunity of seeing such
a spectacle. But, as I have stated, we were lucky enough to see in
all six eruptions, three of which occurred at short intervals during
the night. The first occurred at 10.15 P.M.; the others at 1.30,
3.30, 6.30, 8.30, and the last of the series at 10.45 A.M. The finest
displays were the first, second, and last. The second, that at 1.30
A.M., occurred just after we had turned in, but the warning rumblings
sounded before we had gone to sleep. Each made a dash at some articles
of clothing, and hastening into them, made a blind rush through the
rain to the side of Geysir, where we presented a curious spectacle: we
were a very motley assemblage indeed, and the various costumes it would
perhaps be better not to describe accurately. I have not a photographic
record of the scene--there had been no time to get out cameras, and the
light was very bad.
[Illustration: THE FUNNEL OR CRATER OF GEYSIR.]
There is a smaller geyser, known as Little Geysir, distant about a
quarter of a mile from its more important neighbour. Now, this happened
to be in good working order, for it erupted while we were finishing our
evening meal, sending up spray to a height of from ten to twenty feet,
and continued more or less active during the rest of the night.
Many were the boiling and bubbling springs that we saw along a line
of fissure nearly half a mile in extent. The basins of some of them
were very beautiful, one especially, where the water was of a bright
blue colour and the edges of the sinter basin quite white. The basins
and terraces are composed of the silica that was at one time held in
solution in the water that flowed over them; it was gradually deposited
layer upon layer, slowly lining the vent through which the water was
ejected, and building up the terraces and basins.
We were loth to leave the neighbourhood of Geysir and continue on our
way; but we could not linger, because time was of importance to some of
the members of the party, who had to reach Reykjavik, the capital of
the country, in time to catch a certain steamer. Another day could not
be spared, so on we had to go. We proceeded at first over a quantity of
sinter debris, and then through some hummocky land. After a while we
came to a wood--an Icelandic forest, or one of the nearest approaches
to a forest that Iceland can boast. It consisted of a quantity of
scrubby birch and willow "trees," mere bushes, averaging three to five
feet in height, though some, it is true, attained the height of six or
even seven feet; interspersed amongst them were some geraniums (_G.
silvaticum_). The river Bruará flows through the middle of the wood,
and we had to cross it on our way. The crossing was a peculiar one. At
the spot there is a rapid in the river, with a waterfall just below.
Hard rock stretches from side to side, forming a barrier that is cleft
in the middle of the river; the water flows with very picturesque
effect over the ledge and into the cleft, which is bridged by a wooden
platform; the crossing is effected by the bridge, and by fording the
river on each side of it. While I was photographing the spot with some
members of the party on the bridge, my pony ran away, and crossed the
river, leaving me on the wrong side of it. However, the runaway did not
get very far before its career was checked; it was then brought back,
and I followed in the track of the others.
Farther on in the wood we halted at a wayside farm-house for lunch,
and to rest for a while before continuing on what was likely to be a
long journey. Away we went again, though, through the wood, until we
overlooked the Bruará at a spot where it had worn down the valley to
the level of a plain of denudation, of which it is a fine specimen.
There, below, was the river meandering in a winding course over the
plain; there also were two small lakes, one of which, Laugarvatn,
is of historical interest, for it was there that the Icelanders on
being converted to Christianity were baptized; they objected to cold
water, but a hot spring in this lake causes the water to be warm,
so the objection was overcome, and they were baptized in the warm
waters of Laugarvatn. We gradually descended to the vicinity of
Laugarvatnshellirar, a peculiar volcanic district, where a number of
castellated-looking rocks on the hillsides are very suggestive of
ancient ruins. To the left of them rises the Kalfstindar range, the
peaks of which are the hard plugs of ancient volcanoes that have become
exposed by the erosion of the softer material of the original cones.
Here we came upon recent lava again, and during the rest of the day's
journey we were obliged to travel very slowly, for we had to pick our
way over very rough ground.
The ponies stumbled along hour after hour, much to the discomfiture of
the "nautical adviser," who was in a helpless state, suffering great
pain. Earlier in the day he had been stung on the eye by an insect.
At first he did not feel much inconvenience, but as time passed, his
eye became inflamed and very troublesome; so intense was the pain at
last, that his eyes had to be bandaged. Thus blindfolded he had to ride
on, just balancing himself, and allowing his pony to pick its own way
through the lava as it followed one or another of us. It was a very
dangerous proceeding, because the lava over which he had to pass was
of the roughest possible kind; the ponies had to perform all sorts
of peculiar antics while dodging from side to side, or in climbing
over boulders or outcropping rocks, now going up a steep slope, then
descending one at a dangerous-looking angle. When three or four miles
from Thingvellir, our destination that night, we came to a great rift
in the earth known as Hrafna-gjá (Raven's Rift), a crack going deep
down into the earth, and extending three or four miles in a line
parallel to another even greater rift that will be again referred to.
On reaching Hrafna-gjá, we had to climb down its steep side, there
being a drop of something like a hundred feet to the lava at its foot.
The steepness and unevenness of the descent rendered it necessary for
us all to dismount and lead our ponies down. The day was dull and the
light then becoming bad; but we had to plod on. We were not many miles
from our destination, Thingvellir. We presently saw right ahead what
looked like a line of high precipitous cliffs with a white patch in it.
At first we were very doubtful what the patch could be; but on drawing
nearer we heard the splash of falling water, and from the sound, judged
that the volume was pretty large. We could see nothing distinctly,
though, for it was approaching midnight and the light was failing
fast, so we pushed on along a line parallel to the cliff, unable to
distinguish anything clearly.
It was at Vallholt, close to the margin of Lake Thingvallavatn, that
we halted. There we reached modern civilisation suddenly, for we came
to a large galvanised iron structure which we found to be a hotel,
so we pulled up and dismounted. On inquiring for our tents, we were
informed that they had not been erected, and that we were to take up
our quarters at the hotel. We had not expected this, and as we had
all become somewhat attached to our canvas quarters, we grumblingly
entered the hotel and went in search of our boxes. The arrangement
of the interior was peculiar: a large hall occupied the middle of
the building, extending the full width, and reaching from floor to
roof; at each end of the hall, a passage led through to the end of
the building. On each side of one of these passages there was ranged
a number of cabin-like rooms, each of which contained two bunks, one
above the other, and in a corner there was a wash-hand basin, the whole
being fitted up like the interior of a cabin on board ship--this was
accounted for by the fact that the arrangement had been designed by a
sailor.
Thomas and I had piloted the "nautical adviser" and given his pony a
lead during the last part of the journey, so we three were rather late
in our arrival; but we were met with the cheering intelligence that
supper (it was 11.30 P.M.) would be ready in a few minutes, and that
we were to "hurry up" and make whatever change of costume we deemed
necessary to celebrate the return to some of the conventionalities of
modern civilisation. We were hungry, very hungry, and did not waste
time over an elaborate toilet, but soon put in an appearance in the
large central hall. Here we were regaled with a most sumptuous and
excellent banquet. The soup was all that could be desired, and it was
hot--a very comforting thing when one is half frozen. This whetted our
appetite for the other good things that were to follow: salmon that was
cooked to perfection; then came another excellent dish, and last of all
delicious pastry and cream--the Icelanders, as I have already stated,
are noted for the quality of their pastry. We had growled on finding
that we were to take up quarters in a tourists' hotel, but the quality
of the dinner quite reconciled us to the return to civilisation. We
had been living for more than a fortnight on tinned foods, so we fully
appreciated the good things that "mine host" had provided for us. We
were disappointed in one way; but when a hungry man has fed well he is
not disposed to quarrel with things in general--especially when they
take the form of a fairly comfortable bunk and more room in his cabin
than he would have had in his tent.
Thingvellir and the neighbourhood is a most interesting and historic
place, for it was there, in the tenth century, that the Althing, or
Parliament, used to assemble. The spot whereon it once met, known as
the Logberg (Law Rock), is now a verdure-covered hill, lying between
two remarkable rifts in the lava. Thingvallavatn is the name of the
largest and most picturesque lake in Iceland; the view of it which
we had obtained the day before from above Hrafna-gjá was very fine,
but the atmosphere had not been quite clear; we had seen enough,
however, in spite of rain and haze, to enable us to form an idea of the
beauty of the scene. We were favoured on this occasion, for the air
was clearer and the light brighter, so we were better able, from the
elevated site of the Logberg, to enjoy the fine view. The meeting-place
of the Althing was removed from the Logberg to one of two islands
lying in the lake, but to which of them is questionable, though it is
supposed that it used to meet on the long flat island near Thingvellir,
close to the shore of the lake.
Not only is this neighbourhood interesting historically, but
geologically it claims attention. I have already mentioned the
remarkable rift, Hrafna-gjá; there is another at Thingvellir--I am
not referring to the two rifts at the Logberg, for though noticeable
in themselves, they are but minor rifts when compared with that of
Hrafna-gjá, and still more so when comparison is made with Almanna-gjá
(All-men's Rift) at Thingvellir. It is a most extraordinary break in
the earth, extending for three or four miles across the country in
a line parallel to Hrafna-gjá, showing a face of lava with a drop
of something like a hundred feet. Now what has happened to cause
these extraordinary rifts? The whole of the land between Hrafna-gjá
and Almanna-gjá has fallen in, dropped through about a hundred feet,
and forms a "rift valley." The lake derives its water chiefly by
underground rivers from the ice-field of Lang Jökull, though one small
stream, the Oxará, runs into it. This river tumbles over the edge of
the cliffs by a fine cascade into the rift of Almanna-gjá; but it does
not flow very far (less than a mile) before it escapes through a gap
in the outer wall of the rift by a second and smaller fall. Above the
smaller fall there is a pool known as the Murderesses' Pool, in which
it was once the custom to drown women found guilty of infanticide or
adultery.
[Illustration: ALMANNA-GJÁ--IN THE RIFT NEAR THE WATERFALL.]
There are several legends connected with Thingvellir. One of them
refers to a remarkable jump supposed to have been performed by one
Flossi, an outlaw, who, on being closely pursued, escaped by jumping
across one of the lava rifts of the Logberg hill--an impossible feat
with the rift at its present width, but it is supposed to have widened
considerably. In these rifts of the Logberg there is, deep down, some
beautifully clear water standing at about the same level as the lake.
Over one of the rifts there is a small wooden bridge with a hole in
the middle of it; beside the hole we saw a bucket with a long rope
attached. As the clear water of one of the pools was immediately
below, it was not difficult to infer that this was the source of the
water-supply of the hotel which was in the immediate neighbourhood.
After we had seen all that was of special interest at Thingvellir, we
started on the last stage of our journey across the island; but before
doing so we took leave of two of the guides, Josef and Sigurthur, who
were returning to our starting-point, Akureyri, with about a dozen of
the ponies; for we had no further use for the full pack, seeing that
we expected to reach Reykjavik, the capital, in the course of a few
hours. From this place to Reykjavik a road has been constructed--a
rough one at best, but still a road; the only one of any length in all
Iceland, for it is thirty-six miles long. It commences just below the
lower fall of the Oxará; after a short ascent, a bridge crosses the
river between the waterfall and the Murderesses' Pool, whence it rises
by a steep ascent to the level of the country above the rift. This part
of the road has been cut in the side of the fissure of Almanna-gjá.
From above we obtained a fine view overlooking Lake Thingvallavatn,
but after losing sight of the lake we saw no more of the picturesque
until nearing Reykjavik. An exceedingly fine specimen of a glaciated
lava surface attracted Thomas and myself. My photograph shows it
excellently: in it there can be seen the undulating surfaces of lava,
the _roches moutonnées_, just as they were smoothed by the passing ice,
and there on the surfaces are several "perched blocks" which helped in
the smoothing and scratching process. There was evidence all along the
road not only of the work of frost and ice, but also of that of fire
and heat, for we saw in all directions tuff and lava cones and volcanic
necks.
[Illustration: GLACIATED LAVA SURFACE NEAR THINGVELLIR.]
On nearing Reykjavik we met a number of pack-trains conveying goods
of all descriptions to the farms. It was just the end of the season
when the farmers make their annual journey to the capital. They take
in their wool, dispose of it, and then return with whatever goods
they have purchased. Some of the farmer's women-folk accompany him as
a rule. The women ride their ponies on a saddle peculiar to Iceland.
They balance themselves on their ponies seated sideways, with feet
resting on a little platform that hangs suspended from the saddle by
two straps; they ride by balance alone, for there is no horn by which
they can grip the saddle. All goods have to be transported on the backs
of ponies, for as there are no roads (with the exception of that from
Reykjavik to Thingvellir) so there are no carts or waggons in general
use--I did see _three_ carts in Iceland, one of them in Reykjavik, but
they were used only for hauling goods from the wharves into the towns.
Timber and galvanised iron are carried balanced on the backs of ponies,
the galvanised iron having to be doubled up. A pony sometimes looks
very peculiar as he plods along with an unwieldy load swinging from
side to side. He has an awkward time of it whenever there is a heavy or
gusty wind blowing, and that in Iceland is very frequently. Heavy goods
that cannot possibly be carried on the backs of ponies are transported
when the winter snows cover the ground; rough sleighs are then used for
the purpose.