Lura's Uncle Roy is in Japan. He used to take Christmas dinner at Lura's home. Now he could only write her papa to say a box of gifts had been sent, and one was for his little girl. The little girl clapped her hands, crying, "Oh, mamma! ... Read more of A TURKEY FOR ONE. at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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From: A Journey To The Centre Of The Earth

The weather was overcast but settled, when we commenced our adventurous
and perilous journey. We had neither to fear fatiguing heat nor
drenching rain. It was, in fact, real tourist weather.

As there was nothing I liked better than horse exercise, the pleasure of
riding through an unknown country caused the early part of our
enterprise to be particularly agreeable to me.

I began to enjoy the exhilarating delight of traveling, a life of
desire, gratification and liberty. The truth is, that my spirits rose so
rapidly, that I began to be indifferent to what had once appeared to be
a terrible journey.

"After all," I said to myself, "what do I risk? Simply to take a journey
through a curious country, to climb a remarkable mountain, and if the
worst comes to the worst, to descend into the crater of an extinct
volcano."

There could be no doubt that this was all this terrible Saknussemm had
done. As to the existence of a gallery, or of subterraneous passages
leading into the interior of the earth, the idea was simply absurd, the
hallucination of a distempered imagination. All, then, that may be
required of me I will do cheerfully, and will create no difficulty.

It was just before we left Reykjavik that I came to this decision.

Hans, our extraordinary guide, went first, walking with a steady, rapid,
unvarying step. Our two horses with the luggage followed of their own
accord, without requiring whip or spur. My uncle and I came behind,
cutting a very tolerable figure upon our small but vigorous animals.

Iceland is one of the largest islands in Europe. It contains thirty
thousand square miles of surface, and has about seventy thousand
inhabitants. Geographers have divided it into four parts, and we had to
cross the southwest quarter which in the vernacular is called Sudvestr
Fjordungr.

Hans, on taking his departure from Reykjavik, had followed the line of
the sea. We took our way through poor and sparse meadows, which made a
desperate effort every year to show a little green. They very rarely
succeed in a good show of yellow.

The rugged summits of the rocky hills were dimly visible on the edge of
the horizon, through the misty fogs; every now and then some heavy
flakes of snow showed conspicuous in the morning light, while certain
lofty and pointed rocks were first lost in the grey low clouds, their
summits clearly visible above, like jagged reefs rising from a troublous
sea.

Every now and then a spur of rock came down through the arid ground,
leaving us scarcely room to pass. Our horses, however, appeared not only
well acquainted with the country, but by a kind of instinct, knew which
was the best road. My uncle had not even the satisfaction of urging
forward his steed by whip, spur, or voice. It was utterly useless to
show any signs of impatience. I could not help smiling to see him look
so big on his little horse; his long legs now and then touching the
ground made him look like a six-footed centaur.

"Good beast, good beast," he would cry. "I assure you, that I begin to
think no animal is more intelligent than an Icelandic horse. Snow,
tempest, impracticable roads, rocks, icebergs nothing stops him. He is
brave; he is sober; he is safe; he never makes a false step; never
glides or slips from his path. I dare to say that if any river, any
fjord has to be crossed and I have no doubt there will be many you
will see him enter the water without hesitation like an amphibious like
an amphibious animal, and reach the opposite side in safety. We must
not, however, attempt to hurry him; we must allow him to have his own
way, and I will undertake to say that between us we shall do our ten
leagues a day."

"We may do so," was my reply, "but what about our worthy guide?"

"I have not the slightest anxiety about him: that sort of people go
ahead without knowing even what they are about. Look at Hans. He moves
so little that it is impossible for him to become fatigued. Besides, if
he were to complain of weariness, he could have the loan of my horse. I
should have a violent attack of the cramp if I were not to have some
sort of exercise. My arms are right but my legs are getting a little
stiff."

All this while we were advancing at a rapid pace. The country we had
reached was already nearly a desert. Here and there could be seen an
isolated farm, some solitary bur, or Icelandic house, built of wood,
earth, fragments of lava looking like beggars on the highway of life.
These wretched and miserable huts excited in us such pity that we felt
half disposed to leave alms at every door. In this country there are no
roads, paths are nearly unknown, and vegetation, poor as it was, slowly
as it reached perfection, soon obliterated all traces of the few
travelers who passed from place to place.

Nevertheless, this division of the province, situated only a few miles
from the capital, is considered one of the best cultivated and most
thickly peopled in all Iceland. What, then, must be the state of the
less known and more distant parts of the island? After traveling fully
half a Danish mile, we had met neither a farmer at the door of his hut,
nor even a wandering shepherd with his wild and savage flock.

A few stray cows and sheep were only seen occasionally. What, then, must
we expect when we come to the upheaved regions to the districts broken
and roughened from volcanic eruptions and subterraneous commotions?

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.





Next: Traveling In Iceland

Previous: Conversation And Discovery



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