The return was as arduous as the inward journey, for we had slipped over the icy rocks and into the holes so often that our woolen gloves were cut to threads and our boots still show the scars of those ignominious slides. Nowhere else in Iceland have I ever felt the least fear of danger, neither in fording the glacial rivers, in the terrible deserts, on the ice mountains, nor in sleeping in the crater of _Askja_, Bowl, with ice beside my tent and columns of steam and sulfur gases rising from the solfatara in front, but, in this cave the thought was ever present with me,—“those blocks of stone, some of them weighing a ton, each has fallen from that lofty dome, when will the next one fall?” The experience was worth all the labor for we had been in the actual home of the outlaws, had worked our way to the far end of the longest and grandest lava tunnel known, we had seen the beautiful ice barrier, beautiful as the altar screen in the great cathedrals of Europe and we had left positive proof of our labor in the ancient cairn. No one should omit this visit if he is near this portion of Iceland. When he has issued from the darkness into the sunlight, if he desires more of the same experience he will find a similar tunnel not far from _Surtshellir_, which was discovered in 1909. That night we reached _Kalmungstúnga_, a prosperous farm within the shadows of _Geitlands Jökull_, Goat-Land, and _Ök Jökull_, Yoke. This is a new farm house with spacious and airy rooms and well furnished. The farmer is obliging though he has a reputation of overcharging his guests. After a well cooked dinner we repaired to rest, not having slept more than three hours out of the last forty-eight. A little after midnight I was aroused by Mrs. Russell, who was saying:— “There is some one in our room.” After a little I awoke sufficiently to see a man standing at the foot of the bed occupied by Mrs. Russell. I asked,— “Who is there and what is wanted?” “It is Ólafur. The Governor of Iceland with his daughter has arrived and he wishes a bed,” replied the guide. “Well, let him have one if he can find it. We are too tired to give up these.” “The farmer does not want them, but there is one folded up under your bed. If I can get it the Governor will have it set up in the hall and sleep there.” So saying, he took away the bed and we were soon asleep and did not awaken till the Governor sent word to us at ten in the morning that he would like our company at breakfast. The farmer’s wife prepared a special breakfast, cooking a young lamb. The good wife brought our her best dishes and loaded the table with her choicest food, for even in Iceland, it is not every morning that the Governor takes breakfast with the peasants.