Across Iceland

by W. Bisiker

The next morning Thomas and I returned to our first position. Originally most of us had intended to make an attack upon Hrutafell, the giant peak of Lang Jökull; but the rain had delayed my work by the greater part of a day, so Thomas and I had to give up all idea of attempting the ascent. The idea was finally abandoned by the other members of the party, but a preliminary survey of the difficulties was made by the conductor, who thought that he could see a way that might render a successful ascent possible. The "handy man," being released from the Hrutafell expedition, offered to lend a hand in measuring the remainder of the base line, so he accompanied us back to position number one; we also took Thorlakur, one of the guides, with us. On the way, which was along the foot of the range outlying Lang Jökull, we had to pass over a small snow-field, close to which we came upon a good specimen of ropy lava.

After taking several photographs from my first position, we proceeded along the base line to where a staff had been left to mark the point already reached, and thence continued our measurements to the second position at the other end of the base. We found the two positions to be nearly a mile and a quarter apart. A more difficult piece of measurement could not be imagined, taken as the line was over the extremely rough surface of a broken-up scoriaceous lava-field. We remained at the peak forming the second end of the base line for several hours, during which period I was very busy at the plane-table. We then proceeded towards the volcano, Strytur, across the lava, and found it a scene of the wildest and most fantastic desolation—a constant succession of rough lava, ropy surfaces, vents, arches, snow-fields, and small lakes of icy coldness formed by melting snow. Occasionally we had an unpleasant variation, for there were many bogs that appeared to be quite solid until the plunging of a pony, as it sank into one of them, told us that the apparently hard-looking surface was a mass of mud with a number of lava blocks and stones set in it.

Arrived at Strytur, another indescribable scene of desolation met our view. The lava was twisted and contorted in the wildest manner, and mixed in the utmost confusion. The volcano has two craters, inner and outer; the former rather more than three-eighths of a mile, and the latter nearly five-eighths in diameter. The two horns are of peculiar shape: the western horn being but an isolated pinnacle rising less than a hundred feet above its surroundings; the eastern horn is another isolated peak, but though one side of it is perpendicular, and goes deep down into the inner crater, the other side falls gradually away in the typical slope of a volcano. These two horns stand up as distinct landmarks, and can be seen from a great distance to the north; in the south, however, they are hidden, by intervening hills and mountains, from many places that are but a short distance away. The inner crater contains much lava debris, some of the blocks being of enormous size, while in several places there is snow of unknown depth.

My third position was on the highest point of the eastern horn. The wind was very cold, blowing as it was direct from the ice-field, and my companions who had but little work to do had a trying time of it in such an exposed position. They stood shivering in the cold, but descended after a while to the foot of the horn, whence they whistled away at short intervals in an endeavour to hurry me over the work; but as there was no rain, I had, in spite of cold winds, to stick to it, and take advantage of the opportunity to work at the plane-table. I was hailed with delight when I did descend—delight at the prospect of getting away from such a bleak, inhospitable spot. The view from Strytur looking towards Hrutafell and the ice and snow field of Lang Jökull is very fine. Once more we crossed the lava-field and made the best of the way to our camp at Thjofadal.

Next day I was obliged to go on with my work without a companion, and had not a smooth time of it altogether; things did not go right. Over-night I had determined to fix my fourth position on the mountain Rauthkollur, the highest point at the southern end of the outlying range of Lang Jökull. I set out alone, for Thomas was in trouble with his side, and the "handy man" did not look upon the expedition with much interest, for the weather was most unfavourable for any one not having special work to do—rain, hail, snow, and blow were the conditions that held during the whole of the time that I was away from camp. The way lay up a steep gorge between the mountain and a spur running down from near the end of the range; the slopes of the gorge were covered with scree that gave way at every step, and often I slid back several yards before I could stop myself. The climb was a stiff and very uncomfortable one, laden as I was with instruments, glasses, camera, and plane-table; but by sticking to it I gradually ascended yard by yard. I got off the scree whenever possible, and climbed up the course of a small mountain stream; but there were many waterfalls that could not be climbed, which caused me to return to the scree again and again, often sending the loose material flying down in a series of landslips. Higher up I skirted several small snow-fields, where better progress was possible, for the scree at the edges of the snow did not slip away so freely. The ascent would have been easy enough had I not been so heavily and awkwardly laden, or had my hands been free.

At the summit of Rauthkollur a glorious view rewarded me. In front stretched the great ice-field of Lang Jökull; away to the left was the giant Hrutafell: three of its glaciers faced me, while a fourth could just be seen at right angles to the others. The back of this mountain merges in a series of hills that are set in the ice of Lang Jökull. Below Hrutafell, and at the foot of the ice-cap of Lang Jökull, a perfect network of streams came from the snow and ice; it was interesting to trace their meanderings as they ran into stream after stream, until finally all joined in one swift-running torrent and flowed at the foot of the moraines below Hrutafell. Away to the right I looked along the outlying range, on the end peak of which I was standing, and down into the valley between the range and the ice-field.

In spite of the adverse weather, my plane-tabling was very successful from this station; its commanding position enabled me to obtain a good view of the surrounding country, not only over the ice-field, but also over the country from which the ascent had been made. I looked down into Thjofadal, right over the mountain Thjofafell, across the lava-field to Strytur and Kjalfell, and to the ice-field of Hoff Jökull beyond. Showers had to be dodged and plane-tabling done when it did not rain or snow; but I filled up the intervals by taking several photographs, and by making a boiling-point observation for altitude, also clinometer observations for calculating the heights of surrounding peaks.

The return to camp was made at a quicker rate than the ascent; but I met with a nasty accident, by slipping on a stone in the gorge and diving head first down a small waterfall into a pool of water below. The plane-table turned over, and coming upon me, pinned me down in the water for a few seconds; the camera was underneath in the water, which was flowing through it, for the outside case was not water-tight. I extricated myself in course of time, not much the worse for the fall; a badly bruised knee, the loss of a quantity of skin from hands, and a few minor bruises, being all the damage that I had received—it might have been much worse, laden as I was. On arrival in camp I was patched up, and the "nautical adviser" busied himself in preparing soup and other comforts for the inner man, for which attentions I was grateful.

The other members of the party had not done very much in the bad weather, one or two small excursions to spots in the neighbourhood excepted. Late in the afternoon we struck camp and moved on a few miles farther, to a spot known as Gránanes, right on the other side of the lava-fields. Our way lay round by Hrutafell by the side of the river Falakvisl, which runs in a deep gorge at the foot of the mountain. From this river we struck across rough lava, then moraine matter, and again lava right up to the river Svatá. The rivers, as a rule, run along at the edges of the lava flows; there are some exceptions, however, and one instance, in the west of the island, I will refer to in its proper place. One very fine vent we came upon when crossing the lava. Gránanes was on the other side of the Svatá, just by a spot where the water falls ten or fifteen feet over a hard ledge of rock extending across the river. Beyond the river all was moraine matter, great moraine hills, the material of which has come down from Hoff Jökull and has been piled up for miles along its margins. Many very fine erratics are dotted about on the surface near Gránanes.