In the distance we saw columns of steam rising from a large area and Johannes assured us that it was from the geysers. It was here that we met an acquaintance from the _Laura_, Mr. A. V. Manneling, a banker from Helsingfors in Finland, whose company had been very agreeable on the voyage from Leith to _Reykjavik_. He informed us that _Geysir_, (pronounced gáy-sir,) had erupted that noon and would probably give another exhibition that evening. We bade him good-bye and hastened on in order to be present during the eruption. A century ago _Geysir_ was quite constant in the periods of its eruption but owing to recent earthquakes which have changed the conditions below it is not at all regular and it is frequently eight days between the displays. We forded several tributaries of the _Túngufljót_,[3] Tongue-River, rounded the base of _Laugarfell_, Hot-Mountain, and rode into the midst of the steaming acres, the site of great _Geysir_ and his satellites, a place of awful magnificence, where the water,— “… hot, through scorching cliffs is seen to rise With exhalations steaming to the skies!” —_Iliad._ We dismounted at the little inn, which is located in the midst of the boiling and spouting caldrons, glad to leave the saddle after a ride of thirty-five miles across a diversified country. It had been our second day in the saddle but we had become accustomed to the ponies and they had discovered that the riders were their masters. We had had an exceedingly pleasant journey with no discomforts except those attendant upon horseback riding through a rough and roadless country.