Iceland: Horseback tours in saga landRussell, W. S. C. (Waterman Spaulding Chapman)
History
Iceland: Horseback tours in saga land
Russell, W. S. C. (Waterman Spaulding Chapman)
Iceland -- Description and travel; Sagas -- History and criticism
We descended by a steep path to the lower level, passing many a towering
pile of conglomerate of soft texture and wading through many a talus of
ash and sand where the myriads of zeolites glistened. The masses of rock
protruding from the tufa cliffs give them the appearance of huge plum
puddings. Reaching the verdant plain we changed ponies and while waiting
for them to graze, we explored a small cavern in the base of the cinder
pile. This cave has long been used as a retreat for the sheep in times
of storm. It has since been cleaned, a turf dwelling erected before its
entrance and it now forms the home of a young Icelandic couple who have
set up their housekeeping here since our visit. Remounting we sped away
over the meadow, crossing many small brooks and arrived at the farm
by the hot springs. This place has many signs of prosperity, such as
the quality of the buildings, the numerous flocks around the lake, the
abundance of hay and the thrifty patch of potatoes in its special turfed
enclosure. We were cordially welcomed, taken to the guest room and served
with hot coffee, milk, pastry and delicious griddle cakes, large in
area and quite thin, buttered while hot, sprinkled with sugar and then
rolled tightly. We found these griddle cakes at many of the farms and
can cordially recommend them to a dainty appetite. At the close of the
lunch we repaired to the hot springs which always had for us an unfailing
interest. They are at the very edge of the lake and have formed small
mounds of silicious scinter mingled with lime and alum. Wherever the hot
water has fallen upon the land there is an incrustation of fantastic
form. Most of the water boils over into the cold water of the lake. The
spring furnishes hot water for all domestic purposes and is a great
conserver of fuel. The clothes are washed in tubs beside the springs and
then rinsed in the lake. Here the wool is cleansed before shipment. In
the hot ground the bread is baked, the dough being enclosed in earthen
jars. In a fuelless country it is a gift. It is a strange contrast this
pouring out of boiling water in the margin of the cold lake.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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