The sand was very trying, for a westerly wind filled the air with clouds of a most irritating dust. It was some time before the men returned, when they informed me they had seen several sheep, looking plump and well, and had found some grass near the source of the Svartá, where they had given the horses a rest. Having taken a good meal, I sent three of my men on their return journey, for we had not sufficient hay to keep the horses any longer. I was now left with only Thorlákur and Eyólfur, so we pitched our tent in order that we might take a good sleep before setting out for the Dyngjufjöll. The wind had died away upon the plain, the sand no longer troubled us, the sun was shining warmly, so after our long journey we were rewarded by a most refreshing sleep. Seven P.M., however, saw us again on our legs. I had determined that the volcanoes of Öskjugjá must be north-west of our present position, and therefore decided to take a northern course along the E.S.E. face of the mountains, and take the first gill which should anyway lead in a westerly direction. I also arranged for five days’ provision to be taken with us, and the remainder to be cached upon the sand. Our whisky was now reduced to two small bottles full, for I had been compelled to be rather liberal with it the previous night. I therefore directed that a pint or more of water should be placed in the keg, and this we left in the cache to await our return.
Having crossed a few small streams to the north, which flowed into the pools by which we had encamped, the road became tolerably good, being formed of very fine pumice, sand, and mud that had evidently been cast up by the volcano in question. This, in all probability, had been showered down towards the termination of the eruption, when the pumice had been many times ejected and swallowed again by the volcano, thus reducing it to very small pieces, lapilli and mud,—while at the same time the eruption itself was waxing feeble. Our good road terminated after about three hours’ walking, and then we trod again upon a series of heaps of large and most execrable pumice. All night we continued our difficult progress, but no gill presented itself, up which we might turn towards the object of our search.
My position may be imagined by the reader supposing himself toiling over vast piles of rotten cinders, with 20 lbs. weight on his back, in wet skin socks, with villanously sore feet. The circumstances demanded a halt, for the sun was beginning to show itself in an arc of misty, crimson light, which grew broader and broader and more vivid with approaching day. To our left there arose crags to the height of over 1000 feet above us, their sides being draped with slopes of lava and shifting pumice. Around us were misshapen rocks and conical eminences, carrying our thoughts back to eruptions in bygone ages of the volcanic fires beneath. Here was a chasm, yawning widely where it had not been filled up with pumice, while many others cut deeply into the flanks of the surrounding mountains. These were probably the result of the earthquakes which had preceded the recent eruptions; while in the north of the volcano we were now ascending they were very numerous, but I did not observe any to the south of it. The wind was blowing from the east, and hitherto the volcano had not troubled us with its noisome smell; but as the heavy midnight clouds began to roll down the mountain sides, a pungent sulphurous odour reminded us that the dread power which had created the wilderness around was still alive, though somewhat feeble, in the heart of the mountains which seemed to scowl upon their nocturnal intruders. The snowy turban of Herðubreið, however, was glowing in the sunlight, and the bright face of the luminary broke through the eastern mists, showering beautifully upon the cinder-strewn country around us the heavenly gift of morning sunlight. “Já blessuð sólin,” exclaimed both my companions. “Aye, the blessed sun!” and we all for some minutes silently watched the approach of the tutelar spirit of Icelandic travellers. Who can wonder at the uneducated or the uncivilized worshipping the sun? Crude nature always regards what it cannot understand with superstitious fear, and sometimes with love and worship, and if we did not recognise in all a great Primeval Cause, we might worthily deify the sun; but it was useless to lay dreaming and it was too cold to lie still, and lying still would not get us up the mountain, for up the mountain we were fain to go. We had already gone too far to the north, and as there was no gill, we must needs climb straight up, and steer for the thickest steam and the foulest smell; in short, when our eyes failed, to follow our noses.
Toiling up the sides of the mountain, the mist thickened, while dense clouds settled around us as though they would draw us into the volcano; the smell grew sickening, and the pumice more muddy. What was falling, rain or sand? Neither; it was a kind of fatty loam, falling in coarse granules, the smells from which were most offensive, and it was very fortunate we were almost to windward of the volcano, or progress would have been impossible. My aneroid here marked 3500 feet, and as higher and higher we climbed the mist cleared a little, until we stood upon the top; while beneath us lay a pandemonium of steam and hideous sounds. Suddenly a fearful crash made us stand aghast; it seemed as if half the mountain had tumbled in upon the other side of this horrible valley, and for some time we could see nothing for the dense clouds of steam which seethed up before us, and the heavy rain of loam which was falling, while the most hideous shrieks, groans, booming and screaming sounds rose from all parts of this terrible depression, the bottom of which was now utterly obscured. Again and again came a crash and a roar from the opposite side, and also occasionally from the side we were standing upon. The sides of the crater were evidently falling in, and huge wide cracks, even where we stood, showed us that our position was not altogether a safe one; but the wind was clearing the clouds away, so, seating ourselves upon some large blocks of pumice, we lit our pipes and waited until we could obtain a better view. One thing was certain, this was evidently the volcano of the Öskjugjá which had wrought so much devastation in the Jökuldalr and its vicinity, and we were upon the eastern wall of its crater! Presently the clouds lifted in the distance, and as gap after gap, and space after space cleared, we could see the scorched and blasted country which stretched for many a league behind us. Mountain after mountain gradually shook off the clouds in which the night had enfolded them, and as the mist cleared toward the north we could distinguish a three-cornered plain, encircled except at one point, N.N.E., by semi-detached sections of volcanic mountains, some of which had broken out in ancient times, and by their insignificant lava streams had helped to swell the widely-extending lava stream of the Ódáðahraun.
The crater upon the eastern edge of which we stood was situated in its southern corner. This plain was the Askja (or oval wooden casket). It is about six miles long, and from three to four broad, and at this end was some 4000 feet above sea level. I believe it could be easily reached by a glen upon the N.E. side of the Dyngjufjöll. Presently, apparently about a mile away to the north, we could see the rim of the crater, at a great depth beneath us, and while we were looking at it, a great crack opened upon the margin, and a huge slice slipped with but little noise into the crater, deep down beyond the range of vision. The mist, however, somewhat cleared away, and then a shaft, like the mouth of a large coal-pit, was disclosed to the N.N.E. corner of the valley, but beyond the rim of the crater, from which a straight column of pitch-black vapour was issuing. Boom, boom, from its hoarse black throat, was succeeded in a few seconds by a heavy shower of the coarse earthy granules before mentioned; then a long line of chasms and holes burst to view in the dark floor of the crater, from which issued screaming noises, intermingled with inky vapour, patches of steaming ground, and gaping rifts and chasms. The sun now broke through, and almost simultaneously the clouds lifted from the valley, shaking off the Plutonic vapours which had chained them during the night, and, as if ashamed to own their temporary bondage in the presence of the lord of day, they slunk away to windward. By this time we could see the whole of the crater and its surroundings, except in places where the thick smoke and steam intervened. I felt it was well worth taking the journey from England to stand even for a moment and look into the abyss which opened at our feet, with its black pits and grim chasms all contributing to the general aggregate of steam, and loam, and stench, and horrid sound; while behind us stretched a wild waste of glen, desert, and mountain, a country moaning in ashes, and howling with desolation.
This crater, which perhaps we may be allowed to call Öskjugjá, or “the chasm of the oval casket,” is triangular in shape, and is about five miles in circumference, the base of the triangle being to the N.W., and about 1¼ English miles across. From this base, which was nearly at the level of the plain of Askja, a perpendicular wall of rock cut off all communication with the floor of the crater, which sloped gradually towards the centre, to the depth probably of four or five hundred feet below the plain above described; but I had no opportunity of measuring it, as I could not get down to the crater at any point, neither could I see nor hear the stones which I flung in strike the bottom, as they gave back no sound, on account of the soft mud into which they must have fallen; for the floor of the crater appeared to be covered with the same soft loam which was at intervals rained upon us.
THE ÖSKJUGJÁ.