Up and up we climbed to an elevation of about 2,000 feet to the height of land, the watershed between _Skagafjörðr_, Cape-Fiord, and _Eyjafjörðr_. The ride down the valley towards the west is wild in the extreme. The trail passes through a long mountain pasture where we encountered about one hundred young ponies, thence along the edge of a chasm so deep that the tumbling of the water in the bed came up to us only as a murmur. On our right rose impassable cliffs and rubble screes and it was along this talus of rolling material, composed of disintegrating lava and sand, that we made our way. There are places where a false step or a small avalanche would sweep horse and rider into the depths of the chasm. When the canyon widened, the green-white of the water flashed up to us like masses of liquid emerald. The trail improved as we descended and the declivity became less precipitous; having a long distance ahead of us we gave the ponies a free bit and away we went in a joyful gallop down the grade. We had been discussing the prospects of a tumble a few moments before when on the edge of the cliff but now all fear had vanished. My pony stumbled on some small stones and I shot over his head much to the amusement of my companion. Mrs. Russell was following at this point. Scarcely had I regained my seat in the saddle and reined in to the rear when her pony stumbled and threw her in a similar manner. She was not hurt. This was my second and her first tumble during the two summers of riding, so she held up two fingers to me from time to time. She was laughing at my poor horsemanship and I pushed on to the head of the train. A great raven perched on a lava point was croaking excitedly and it seemed to me that he said, “saw-you, saw-you, saw-you!” Turning to look at this fine black bird I saw my brave companion trying to remount from a second tumble without letting me know of it. She never forgave that raven, for if he had not notified me of the mishap she might still have held those two mocking fingers at me. Rapidly we descended to the lower valley and forded the rapid river. Ravine after ravine opened into the valley, each bringing its turbulent stream to swell the great river far below the trail. We lingered here and there to examine the rocks and I was surprised at the outcroppings of copper in the form of copper carbonate. Zeolites of great beauty are imbedded in the lava and I have often longed for a day or two to explore some of those ravines that lead from this pass. There are indications of considerable copper in two places in Iceland and since Iceland has unlimited water power for the electrical treatment of ore some one will soon ascertain the quantity of copper present.