At the same time Mr. Whyte Whymper was saying to Lord Seabright, “I have just discovered that our young Yankee friend is possessed of a degree of honesty that, to me, would be worth all his other good qualities put together.”
About noon the yacht passed the Snäfells and entered the waters of Faxa Fiord. As she approached Reykjavik, and began to thread her way among the islands that enclose its harbor, Breeze stood on the bridge with Lord Seabright and Mr. Marlin. He had already pointed out on the chart the course taken by the Fish-hawk a few days before, and the same one was now held by the Saga. There was one very narrow channel that Breeze bore in particular remembrance on account of the huge, isolated mass of lava that had risen from and partially leaned over one side of it. Both he and Captain Coffin had wondered if it might not some time topple over and block the passage. Now he looked for it in vain. Could he be mistaken in the place? Again he studied the chart intently. No, the other landmarks were all right, but this one had disappeared. The Saga was just about to enter the channel. He was not absolutely sure that he was right, but he felt impelled to call out, “Stop her, sir! Stop her, please, and back her!”
“Why, what is the matter, McCloud?” exclaimed Lord Seabright, as he complied with this request and rang the engine-room bell.
When Breeze had told them of his fears Mr. Marlin went with a boat’s crew to sound the channel. Upon his return he reported an ugly rock rising to within a few feet of the surface, almost in the middle of it, with deep water on both sides.
So the Saga, which was carefully worked through the narrow place to one side of the danger, was saved from almost certain wreck only by Breeze McCloud’s keen observation and retentive memory. They afterwards learned that the huge mass of rock had fallen into the sea with a tremendous crash on that very day.
Although hospitably received and entertained by the governor and other members of Reykjavik society, the two English gentlemen were almost as much disappointed in the Icelandic capital as Breeze had been on his former visit to it. Lord Seabright, however, anticipated great pleasure from the proposed trip to the geysers, and hurried forward the preparations for it as rapidly as possible. His friend was by no means so enthusiastic as he, and finally decided that he would rather remain in comfortable quarters on board the Saga than to undertake the tedious journey to the geysers merely for the sake of seeing what he termed a fountain of boiling water.
Nothing could alter this decision, and finally, declaring him to be altogether too lazy to live, Lord Seabright turned to Breeze and said, “Will you go with me in his place, McCloud? I know the invitation comes rather late; but if you will overlook that, and accept it, I shall be most happy to have your company on this trip to the geysers.”
CHAPTER XXIII.
PONIES AND GEYSERS.
As there were no vessels in the harbor of Reykjavik, save one that was taking in a cargo of ponies for Norway, besides the native fishing boats, and Breeze saw no chance of returning to America at present, he gladly accepted Lord Seabright’s invitation to accompany him to the geysers.
Nimbus was to go, of course, to cook for the little expedition, and he looked forward with considerable anxiety to mounting and riding one of the shaggy little ponies that he had treated with such contempt upon the occasion of his former visit to the capital. He had never ridden on horseback in his life; but it was certain he must do so now if he expected to reach the geysers, for his own short legs would never carry him that distance, and there was not a wagon, cart, or carriage to be had in all Iceland. So horseback it must be, or not go at all; and during the several days of preparation for the trip, Nimbus occasionally went on shore, and gazed in silence and sadness at the little shaggy monsters that were being collected by the guide, evidently trying to determine upon which one of them it would be safest to trust himself.