46. FALL OF THE OXERAA.
46. FALL OF THE OXERAA.
“Ages ago,” says Lord Dufferin, “some vast commotion shook the foundations of the island; and bubbling up from sources far away amid the inland hills, a fiery deluge must have rushed down between their ridges, until, escaping from the narrower gorges, it found space to spread itself into one broad sheet of molten stone over an entire district of country, reducing its varied surface to one vast blackened level. One of two things then occurred: either, the vitrified mass contracting as it cooled, the centre area of fifty square miles (the present plain of Thingvalla) burst asunder at either side from the adjoining plateau, and sinking down to its present level, left two parallel gjas, or chasms, which form its lateral boundaries, to mark the limits of the disruption; or else, while the pith or marrow of the lava was still in a fluid state, its upper surface became solid, and formed a roof, beneath which the molten stream flowed on to lower levels, leaving a vast cavern into which the upper crust subsequently plumped down.” In the lapse of years, the bottom of the Almannagja has become gradually filled up to an even surface, covered with the most beautiful turf, except where the river Oxeraa, bounding in a magnificent cataract from the higher plateau over the precipice, flows for a certain distance between its walls. At the foot of the fall the waters linger for a moment in a dark, deep, brimming pool, hemmed in by a circle of ruined rocks, in which anciently all women convicted of capital crimes were immediately drowned. Many a poor crone, accused of witchcraft, has thus ended her days in the Almannagja. As may easily be imagined, it is rather a nerve-trying task to descend into the chasm over a rugged lava-slope, where the least false step may prove fatal; but the Icelandic horses are so sure-footed that they can safely be trusted. From the bottom it is easy to distinguish on the one face marks and formations exactly corresponding, though at a different level, with those on the face opposite, and evidently showing that they once had dovetailed into each other, before the igneous mass was rent asunder.
Two leagues from Kalmanstunga, in an immense lava-field, which probably originated in the Bald Jökul, are situated the renowned Surts-hellir, or caves of Surtur, the prince of darkness and fire of the ancient Scandinavian mythology. The principal entrance to the caves is an extensive chasm formed by the falling in of a part of the lava-roof; so that, on descending into it, the visitor finds himself right in the mouth of the main cavern, which runs in an almost straight line, and is nearly a mile in length. Its average height is about forty, and its breadth fifty feet. The lava-crust which forms its roof is about twelve feet thick, and has the appearance of being stratified and columnar, like basaltic pillars, in its formation. Many of the blocks of lava thus formed have become detached and fallen into the cavern, where they lie piled up in great heaps, and heavily tax the patience of the traveller, who has to scramble over the rugged stones, and can hardly avoid slipping and stumbling into the holes between them, varied by pools of water and masses of snow. But after having toiled and plodded to the extremity of this dismal cavern, his perseverance is amply rewarded by the sight of an ice-grotto, whose fairy beauty appears still more charming, in contrast with its gloomy vestibule. From the crystal floor rises group after group of transparent pillars tapering to a point, while from the roof brilliant icy pendants hang down to meet them. Columns and arches of ice are ranged along the crystalline walls, and the light of the candles is reflected back a hundred-fold from every side, till the whole cavern shines with astonishing lustre. Mr. Holland, the latest visitor of the Surts-hellir, declares he never saw a more brilliant spectacle; and the German naturalist, Preyer, pronounces it one of the most magnificent sights in nature, reminding him of the fairy grottoes of the Arabian Nights’ Tales.
From the mountains and the vast plateau which occupies the centre of the island, numerous rivers descend on all sides, which, fed in summer by the melting glaciers, pour enormous quantities of turbid water into the sea, or convert large alluvial flats into morasses. Though of a considerable breadth, their course is frequently very short, particularly along the southern coast, where the jokuls from which they derive their birth are only separated from the sea by a narrow foreland. In their impetuous flow, they not seldom bear huge blocks of stone along with them, and cut off all communication between the inhabitants of their opposite banks.
The chief rivers of Iceland are, in the south, the Thiorsa and the Hvita, which are not inferior in width to the Rhine in the middle part of its course; in the north, the Skjalfandafljot and the Jökulsa and the Jökulsa i Axarfirdi, large and rapid streams above a hundred miles long; and in the east the Lagarfliot. As may be expected in a mountainous country, containing many glacier-fed rivers, Iceland has numerous cascades, many of them rivalling or surpassing in beauty the far-famed falls of Switzerland.
One of the most celebrated of these gems of nature is the Goda-foss, in the northern part of the island, formed by the deep and rapid Skjalfandafljot, as it rushes with a deafening roar over rocks fifty feet high into the caldron below; but it is far surpassed in magnificence by the Dettifoss, a fall of the Jökulsa i Axarfirdi.