The host and hostess then showed us all over their house, a turf structure and typical of the older houses in the country. Such farm houses contain narrow, windowless corridors, winding in labyrinthian maze from room to room. In this house one passageway led to a large open mound where a fire is made to smoke fish and meat and incidentally the whole house and everything in it. Another passage leads to the real kitchen with an iron stove. The walls are all of turf as are the partitions and the roof, with just enough driftwood in the roof to make a framework to hold the turf in place. Steep stairs lead to the _baðstofa_, sleeping apartment, which frequently forms the sleeping and sitting room and the common work room of the entire family, especially in winter. Bunks built into the wall extend around the room and are frequently filled with seaweed or feathers over which is spread a fold or two of wadmal and a thick coverlet of eider down. The floor of the _baðstofa_ is of boards but the floors down stairs are frequently of hard earth which frequently becomes damp. From the ceiling are suspended numerous articles of domestic economy while large chests, ornately carved, containing clothing and valuables are scattered through the house. On another occasion at midnight after Mrs. Russell and I had retired, the hostess came into the guest room and asked us if we would like to go up into the _baðstofa_ and see the family in bed. We promptly accepted the invitation and ascending the ladder found the family abed, head to foot, separated by the boards previously described, family and farm hands, men and women, children, young men and maidens, each asleep and unconscious of our intrusion. This has been the custom of centuries. There are no partitions, no draperies, and there is no false modesty, no resulting immorality. The marriage vow is seldom anticipated and I firmly believe the degree of morality is higher in this land than in any other. CHAPTER XV VATNSDALR “Day long they fared through the mountains, and that highway’s fashioner Forsooth was a fearful craftsman, and his hands the waters were, And the heaped-up ice was his mattock, and the fire-blast was his man.” —_Morris._ During the summer day Akureyri is a busy place. It is the emporium of the north, the resort of the fishermen from the northern waters and the place where the farmers of the north of Iceland exchange their produce for European supplies. The city is comfortably situated at the head of the longest fiord in Iceland. There is one street that runs between the water and the high hill towards the west. The population is about 1,500. There are several shops and good stores, a public library. Two newspapers are published in the city. There is a high school and an agricultural college. One baker in the city is also a photographer and there one may purchase a photograph or a cruller over the same counter.