Beautiful Arctic flowers crown the _Lögberg_. The plover whistles on the heather and the whimbrel calls as in days of yore. Around this primitive parliament flow the emerald waters in varied shades of prismic green like polished malachite, long since unpolluted with broken-backed criminals. I fired my revolver into the green-bedded chasm of the _Flosigjá_ to awaken the echoes. Their voices betokened peace. The angry snarl of the bloodthirsty mob, the clash of bill on yielding armor, the wail of drowning women no longer reverberated from chasm to cliff. Echo had but one message, _Peace_. [Illustration: _Foot of the Öxerá in Almannagjá._ _Lögberg, Mount of Laws, between the Rifts. Ármannsfell in the Distance._] Peace to the generations past, whose warriors have long since mouldered in yonder heath! Solemnly, softly, silently the echo fades upon _Thingvellir’s_ plain. So say I.—Peace to the mighty dead! Peace to the little nation now toiling for existence upon this fire-blistered island! Peace, I say, to those Plutonic forces that have wrought far greater havoc and misery in this Arctic realm than all the bloody passions of its first born sons! CHAPTER VIII GEYSIR “Where the cauldron of the North Spouts his boiling waters forth, From the caverns far beneath, Where they ever lie and seethe, And with steam, and hiss, and boom, Send a tremor through the gloom, Till, above, the solid ground Vibrates with a dull rebound,— In that place I stood and saw Things that filled my soul with awe.” —_Miss Menzies._ Morning dawned with a gentle rain. Hour after hour it fell with no promise of abatement until ten, when the clouds were rifted, the sun shone through and the dripping plain glistened. We decided to set out for the long ride to _Geysir_. The ponies had been in readiness for an hour in anticipation of an earlier start. We turned into the trail leading across the plain, along the border of the lake towards _Hrafnagjá_, Johannes following with the train at some distance. When we reached the rift we halted to examine it until Johannes arrived. This chasm is longer than the _Almannagjá_ but not so deep and surely not so impressive. It lacks the beautiful waterfall and the historical associations of the latter. It extends along the side of the mountain which we were about to climb. Many blocks of basalt have tumbled into it in one place and over these a suitable and safe passage has been constructed. As we crossed the chasm the rain began to fall, likewise the temperature. Long before we had reached the summit of the mountain pass the rain was pouring upon us and rolling off in rivulets from horse and rider. This was a good test of our specially made waterproof clothing and it stood the test. Never a drop penetrated save up the sleeve of the bridle hand.