The Land Of Thor Part 25

CHAPTER L.

THE GEYSERS.

Upon turning the point of a hill where our trail was a little elevated above the great valley, Zoega called my attention to a column of vapor that seemed to rise out of the ground about ten miles distant. For all I could judge, it was smoke from some settler's cabin situated in a hollow of the slope.

"What's that, Zoega?" I asked.

"That's the Geysers, sir," he replied, as coolly as if it were the commonest thing in the world to see the famous Geysers of Iceland.

"The Geysers! That little thing the Geysers?"

"Yes, sir."

"Dear me! who would ever have thought it?"

I may as well confess at once that I was sadly disappointed. It was a pleasure, of course, to see what I had read of and pictured to my mind, from early boyhood; but this contemptible little affair looked very much like a humbug. A vague idea had taken possession of my mind that I would see a whole district of country shooting up hot water and sulphurous vapors--a kind of h.e.l.l upon earth; but that thing ahead of us--that little curl of smoke on the horizon looked so peaceful, so inadequate a result of great subterranean fires, that I could not but feel some resentment toward the travelers who had preceded me, and whose glowing accounts of the Geysers had deceived me. At this point of view it was not at all equal to the Geysers of California. I had a distinct recollection of the great canon between Russian River Valley and Clear Lake, the magnificent hills on the route, the first glimpse of the infernal scene far down in the bed of the canon, the boiling, hissing waters, and clouds of vapor whirling up among the rocks, the towering crags on the opposite side, and the n.o.ble forests of oak and pine that spread "a boundless contiguity of shade" over the wearied traveler, and I must say a patriotic pride took possession of my soul.

We had beaten the world in the production of gold; our fruits were finer and our vegetables larger than any ever produced in other countries; our men taller and stronger, our women prettier and more prolific, our lawsuits more extensive, our fights the best ever gotten up, our towns the most rapidly built and rapidly burned--in short, every thing was on a grand, wide, broad, tall, fast, overwhelming scale, that bid defiance to compet.i.tion, and now I was satisfied we could even beat old Iceland in the matters of Geysers. I really felt a contempt for that little streak of smoke. Perhaps something in the expression of my eye may have betrayed my thoughts, for Zoega, as if he felt a natural pride in the wonders of Iceland and wished them to be properly appreciated, hastily added, "But you must not judge of the Geysers by what you now see, sir! That is only the little Geyser. He don't blow up much. The others are behind the first rise of ground."

"That may be, Zoega. I have no doubt they are very fine, but it is not within the bounds of possibility that they should equal the Geysers of California."

"Indeed, sir! I didn't know you had Geysers there."

"Didn't know it! Never heard of the Geysers of California?"

"Never, sir."

"Well, Zoega, that is remarkable. Our Geysers are the finest, the bitterest, the smokiest, the noisiest, the most infernal in the world; and as for mountains, our Shasta Bute would knock your Mount Hecla into a c.o.c.ked hat!"

"Is it possible!"

"Of course it is."

"And have you great lava-beds covering whole valleys as we have here?"

"Certainly--only they are made of gold. We call them Placers--Gold Placers."

"A wonderful country, sir!"

"Would you like to go there, Zoega?"

"No, sir; I'd rather stay here."

[Ill.u.s.tration: SHEPHERD AND FAMILY.]

And so we talked, Zoega and I, as we jogged along pleasantly on our way. Our ride, after we caught the first sight of the smoke, continued for some two hours over a series of low hills, with little green valleys lying between, till we came to an extensive bog that skirts the base of the Langarfjal, a volcanic bluff forming the background of the Geysers. It was now becoming interesting. Half an hour more would settle the matter conclusively between California and Iceland. Crossing the bog where it was not very wet, we soon came to a group of huts at the turning-point of the hill, where we were met by a shepherd and his family. All turned out, big and little, to see the strangers. The man and his wife were fair specimens of Icelandic peasantry--broad-faced, blue-eyed, and good-natured, with yellowish hair, and a sort of mixed costume, between the civilized and the barbarous. The children, of which there must have been over a dozen, were of the usual cotton-head species found in all Northern countries, and wore any thing apparently they could get, from the cast-off rags of their parents to sheepskins and raw hide. Nothing could surpa.s.s the friendly interest of the old shepherd. He asked Zoega a thousand questions about the "gentleman," and begged that we would dismount and do him the honor to take a cup of coffee, which his wife would prepare for us in five minutes. Knowing by experience that five minutes in Iceland means any time within five hours, I was reluctantly obliged to decline the invitation. The poor fellow seemed much disappointed, and evidently was sincere in his offers of hospitality. To compromise the matter, we borrowed a spade from him, and requested him to send some milk down to our camp as soon as the cows were milked.

Although these worthy people lived not over half a mile from the Geysers, they could not tell us when the last eruption had taken place--a most important thing for us to know, as the success of the trip depended almost entirely upon the length of time which had elapsed since that event. The man said he never took notice of the eruptions. He saw the water shooting up every few days, but paid no particular attention to it. There might have been an eruption yesterday, or this morning, for all he knew; it was impossible for him to say positively. "In truth, good friend," said he to Zoega, "my head is filled with sheep, and they give me trouble enough." It was evidently filled with something, for he kept scratching it all the time he was talking.

Many travelers have been compelled to wait a week for an eruption of the Great Geyser, though the interval between the eruptions is not usually more than three days. A good deal depends upon the previous state of the weather, whether it has been wet or dry. Sometimes the eruptions take place within twenty-four hours, but not often. The Great Geyser is a very capricious old gentleman, take him as you will.

He goes up or keeps quiet just to suit himself, and will not put himself the least out of the way to oblige anybody. Even the Prince Napoleon, who visited this region a few years ago, spent two days trying to coax the grumbling old fellow to favor him with a performance, but all to no purpose. The prince was no more to a Great Geyser than the commonest shepherd--not so much, in fact, for his finest displays are said to be made when n.o.body but some poor shepherd of the neighborhood is about. In former times the eruptions were much more frequent than they are now, occurring at least every six hours, and often at periods of only three or four. Gradually they have been diminis.h.i.+ng in force and frequency, and it is not improbable they will cease altogether before the lapse of another century. According to the measurements given by various travelers, among whom may be mentioned Dr. Henderson, Sir George Mackenzie, Forbes, Metcalfe, and Lord Dufferin, the height to which the water is ejected varies from eighty to two hundred feet. It is stated that these Geysers did not exist prior to the fifteenth century; and one eruption--that of 1772--is estimated by Olsen and Paulsen to have reached the extraordinary height of three hundred and sixty feet. All these measurements appear to me to be exaggerated.

Ascending a slope of dry incrusted earth of a red and yellowish color, we first came upon the Little Geyser, a small orifice in the ground, from which a column of steam arose. A bubbling sound as of boiling water issued from the depths below, but otherwise it presented no remarkable phenomena. In a few minutes more we stood in the middle of a sloping plateau of some half a mile in circuit, which declines into an extensive valley on the right. Within the limits of this area there are some forty springs and fissures which emit hot water and vapors.

None of them are of any considerable size, except the Great Geyser, the Strokhr, and the Little Geyser. The earth seems to be a mere crust of sulphurous deposits, and burnt clay, and rotten trap-rock, and is dest.i.tute of vegetation except in a few spots, where patches of gra.s.s and moss present a beautiful contrast to the surrounding barrenness.

In its quiescent state the scene was not so striking as I had expected, though the whirling volumes of smoke that filled the air, and the strange sounds that issued from the ground in every direction, filled my mind with strong premonitions of what might take place at any moment. I did not yet relinquish my views in reference to the superiority of the California Geysers; still, I began to feel some misgiving about it when I looked around and saw the vastness of the scale upon which the fixtures were arranged here for hydraulic entertainments. If we could beat Iceland in the beauty of our scenery, it was quite apparent that the advantage lay here in the breadth and extent of the surrounding desolation--the great lava-fields, the snow-capped Jokuls, and the distant peaks of Mount Hecla.

We rode directly toward the Great Geyser, which we approached within about fifty yards. Here was the camping-ground--a pleasant little patch of green sod, where the various travelers who had preceded us had pitched their tents. Zoega knew every spot. He had accompanied most of the distinguished gentlemen who had honored the place with their presence, and had something to say in his grave, simple way about each of them. Here stood Lord Dufferin's tent. A lively young gentleman he was; a very nice young man; told some queer stories about the Icelanders; didn't see much of the country, but made a very nice book about what he saw; had a great time at the governor's, and drank every body drunk under the table, etc. Here, close by, the Prince Napoleon pitched his tent--a large tent, very handsomely decorated; room for all his officers; very fine gentleman the prince; had lots of money; drank plenty of Champagne; a fat gentleman, not very tall; had blackish hair, and talked French; didn't see the Great Geyser go up, but saw the Strokhr, etc. Here was Mr. Metcalfe's tent; a queer gentleman, Mr. Metcalfe; rather rough in his dress; wrote a funny book about Iceland; told some hard things on the priests; they didn't like it at all; didn't know what to make of Mr. Metcalfe, etc. Here was Mr.

Chambers's camp--a Scotch gentleman; very nice man, plain and sensible; wrote a pamphlet, etc. And here was an old tent-mark, almost rubbed out, where an American gentleman camped about ten years ago; thought his name was Mr. Miles. This traveler also wrote a book, and told some funny stories.

"Was it Pliny Miles?" I asked.

"Yes, sir, that was his name. I was with him all the time."

"Have you his book?"

"Yes, sir, I have his book at home. A very queer gentleman, Mr. Miles; saw a great many things that I didn't see; says he came near getting drowned in a river."

"And didn't he?"

"Well, sir, I don't know. I didn't see him when he was near being drowned. You crossed the river, sir, yourself, and know whether it is dangerous."

"Was it the Bruara?"

"No, sir; one of the other little rivers, about knee-deep."

Here was food for reflection. Zoega, with his matter-of-fact eyes, evidently saw things in an entirely different light from that in which they presented themselves to the enthusiastic tourists who accompanied him. Perhaps he would some time or other be pointing out my tent to some inquisitive visitor, and giving him a running criticism upon my journal of experiences in Iceland. I deemed it judicious, therefore, to explain to him that gentlemen who traveled all the way to Iceland were bound to see something and meet with some thrilling adventures.

If they didn't tell of very remarkable things, n.o.body would care about reading their books. This was the great art of travel; it was not exactly lying, but putting on colors to give the picture effect.

"For my part, Zoega," said I, "having no great skill as an artist, and being a very plain, unimaginative man, as you know, I shall confine myself strictly to facts. Perhaps there will be novelty enough in telling the truth to attract attention."

"The truth is always the best, sir," replied Zoega, gravely and piously.

"Of course it is, Zoega. This country is sufficiently curious in itself. It does not require the aid of fiction to give it effect.

Therefore, should you come across any thing in my narrative which may have escaped your notice, depend upon it I thought it was true--or ought to be."

"Yes, sir; I know you would never lie like some of these gentlemen."

"Never! never, Zoega! I scorn a lying traveler above all things on earth."

But these digressions, however amusing they were at the time, can scarcely be of much interest to the reader.

Even after the lapse of several years the marks around the camping-ground were quite fresh. The sod is of very fine texture, and the gra.s.s never grows very rank, so that wherever a trench is cut to let off the rain, it remains, with very little alteration, for a great length of time.

On the principle that a sovereign of the United States ought never to rank himself below a prince of any other country, I selected a spot a little above the camping-ground of his excellency the Prince Napoleon.

By the aid of my guide I soon had the tent pitched. It was a small affair--only an upright pole, a few yards of canvas, and four wooden pins. The whole concern did not weigh twenty pounds, and only covered an area of ground about four feet by six. Zoega then took the horses to a pasture up the valley. I amused myself making a few sketches of the surrounding objects, and thinking how strange it was to be here all alone at the Geysers of Iceland. How many of my friends knew where I was? Not one, perhaps. And should all the Geysers blow up together and boil me on the spot, what would people generally think of it? Or suppose the ground were to give way and swallow me up, what difference would it make in the price of consols or the temperature of the ocean?