There is no evidence of any great lava flow either in plugs, intrusive sheets or surface flow, neither in the necessary abundance of scoriae and blistered fragments to warrant such a theory. And if there were, we must then explain why these are “cones” and _not craters_ with blistered rims and solid slopes. We must turn to _Mývatn_ for the explanation. It is my opinion that deep seated and violent subterranean explosions of considerable frequency took place here, as in the case of _Hverfjall_ the giant explosion crater of _Mývatn_. It heaved up the crust in crumpled masses, mingling the different basalt formations of ancient flows which lay in superimposed sheets. How else can one account for the many kinds of lava in a single cone, the absence of blistering and cones in place of craters? I have performed an interesting experiment in the laboratory upon this theory and with results that seem to verify the above conclusions. A two liter copper beaker was chosen. It was half filled with clay dust of different colors in layers. This dust was prepared by thoroughly drying the clays, pulverizing and then dusting it through a double fold of cheese cloth. This gave me particles large enough for my miniature experiment. The beaker was then slowly heated from the bottom. After due process of time with the increase of heat the subterranean gases, in this case air in the dust, expanded. At first with slightly audible bumps and a faint trembling of the surface. These increased until the action became violent and small mounds were thrown up which formed true cones with mingled colors from the different depths. _Vatnsdalr_ is a fair and pleasant valley, when the sun shines. No wonder that it possessed a charm for the early settlers with its parallel mountain ridges of entrancing blue, its noble river expanding into fine sheets of water where trout are abundant and its fertile meadows of broad expanse. It is historic ground as well as legendary. It has known stirring days and its heroes were the bravest of any who wielded the axe and bill in the troublesome times when blood alone could recompense a personal affront or a crossed lover. A whole sheaf of _Sagas_ relate the deeds of the men and women of Waterdale. The valley is the same as of old. The inhabitants point out the exact localities where the guest halls of the nobles stood and where their temples of sacrifice were reared to propitiate the gods of Valhalla; they show one where the champions battled for their rights, where the lovers held their trysts and the mounds where the heroes were entombed. These incidents have been handed down from generation to generation, from father to son and the stories were oft repeated in the _bathstófa_ during the long winter evenings when the Arctic shore was frozen and the wind whirled the drifting snows around their turf huts.