We were to learn this all in good time.I saw,however,on consulting the map,that we avoided a good deal of this rough country,by following the winding and desolate shores of the sea.In reality,the great volcanic movement of the island,and all its attendant phenomena,are concentrated in the interior of the island;there,horizontal layers or strata of rocks,piled one upon the other,eruptions of basaltic origin,and streams of lava,have given this country a kind of supernatural reputation.
Little did I expect,however,the spectacle which awaited us when we reached the peninsula of Sneffels,where agglomerations of nature's ruins form a kind of terrible chaos.
Some two hours or more after we had left the city of Reykjavik,we reached the little town called Aoalkirkja,or the principal church.It consists simply of a few houses-not what in England or Germany we should call a hamlet.
Hans stopped here one half hour.He shared our frugal breakfast,answered Yes,and No to my uncle's questions as to the nature of the road,and at last when asked where we were to pass the night was as laconic as usual.
"Gardar!"was his one-worded reply.
I took occasion to consult the map,to see where Gardar was to be found.After looking keenly I found a small town of that name on the borders of the Hvalfjord,about four miles from Reykjavik.I pointed this out to my uncle,who made a very energetic grimace.
"Only four miles out of twenty-two?Why it is only a little walk."He was about to make some energetic observation to the guide,but Hans,without taking the slightest notice of him,went in front of the horses,and walked ahead with the same imperturbable phlegm he had always exhibited.
Three hours later,still traveling over those apparently interminable and sandy prairies,we were compelled to go round the Kollafjord,an easier and shorter cut than crossing the gulfs.Shortly after we entered a place of communal jurisdiction called Ejulberg,and the clock of which would then have struck twelve,if any Icelandic church had been rich enough to possess so valuable and useful an article.These sacred edifices are,however,very much like these people,who do without watches-and never miss them.
Here the horses were allowed to take some rest and refreshment,then following a narrow strip of shore between high rocks and the sea,they took us without further halt to the Aoalkirkja of Brantar,and after another mile to Saurboer Annexia,a chapel of ease,situated on the southern bank of the Hvalfjord.
It was four o'clock in the evening and we had traveled four Danish miles,about equal to twenty English.
The fjord was in this place about half a mile in width.The sweeping and broken waves came rolling in upon the pointed rocks;the gulf was surrounded by rocky walls-a mighty cliff,three thousand feet in height,remarkable for its brown strata,separated here and there by beds of tufa of a reddish hue.Now,whatever may have been the intelligence of our horses,I had not the slightest reliance upon them,as a means of crossing a stormy arm of the sea.To ride over salt water upon the back of a little horse seemed to me absurd.
"If they are really intelligent,"I said to myself,"they will certainly not make the attempt.In any case,I shall trust rather to my own intelligence than theirs."But my uncle was in no humor to wait.He dug his heels into the sides of his steed,and made for the shore.His horse went to the very edge of the water,sniffed at the approaching wave and retreated.
My uncle,who was,sooth to say,quite as obstinate as the beast he bestrode,insisted on his making the desired advance.This attempt was followed by a new refusal on the part of the horse which quietly shook his head.This demonstration of rebellion was followed by a volley of words and a stout application of whipcord;also followed by kicks on the part of the horse,which threw its head and heels upwards and tried to throw his rider.At length the sturdy little pony,spreading out his legs,in a stiff and ludicrous attitude,got from under the Professor's legs,and left him standing,with both feet on a separate stone,like the Colossus of Rhodes.
"Wretched animal!"cried my uncle,suddenly transformed into a foot passenger-and as angry and ashamed as a dismounted cavalry officer on the field of battle.
"Farja,"said the guide,tapping him familiarly on the shoulder.
"What,a ferry boat!
"Der,"answered Hans,pointing to where lay the boat in question-"there.""Well,"I cried,quite delighted with the information;"so it is.""Why did you not say so before,"cried my uncle;"why not start at once?""Tidvatten,"said the guide.
"What does he say?"I asked,considerably puzzled by the delay and the dialogue.
"He says tide,"replied my uncle,translating the Danish word for my information.
"Of course I understand-we must wait till the tide serves.""For bida?"asked my uncle.
"Ja,"replied Hans.
My uncle frowned,stamped his feet and then followed the horses to where the boat lay.
I thoroughly understood and appreciated the necessity for waiting,before crossing the fjord,for that moment when the sea at its highest point is in a state of slack water.As neither the ebb nor flow can then be felt,the ferry boat was in no danger of being carried out to sea,or dashed upon the rocky coast.
The favorable moment did not come until six o'clock in the evening.Then my uncle,myself,and guide,two boatmen and the four horses got into a very awkward flat-bottom boat.Accustomed as I had been to the steam ferry boats of the Elbe,I found the long oars of the boatmen but sorry means of locomotion.We were more than an hour in crossing the fjord;but at length the passage was concluded without accident.
Half an hour later we reached Gardar.
