gings may be had at the huts of the peasants, and such
rude fare as they can furnish; but the tourist had better rely upon
his own tent and provisions, unless he has a craving to be fed on
black bread and curds, and to be buried alive under a dismal pile of
sods.

[Illustration: GEIR ZOEGA.]

The reason why so many horses are required is plain enough. At this
time of the year (June) they are still very poor after their winter's
starvation, the pasturage is not yet good, and, in order to make a
rapid journey of any considerable length, frequent changes are
necessary. Philosophy and humanity combined to satisfy me that the
trip could not well be made with a smaller number. I was a little
inquisitive on that point, partly on the score of expense, and partly
on account of the delay and trouble that might arise in taking care
of so many animals.

If there is any one trait common among all the nations of the earth,
it is a natural sharpness in the traffic of horse-flesh. My experience
has been wonderfully uniform in this respect wherever it has been my
fortune to travel. I have had the misfortune to be the victim of
horse-jockeys in Syria, Africa, Russia, Norway, and even California,
where the people are proverbially honest. I have weighed the
horse-jockeys of the four continents in the balance, and never found
them wanting in natural shrewdness. It is a mistake, however, to call
them unprincipled. They are men of most astonishing tenacity of
principle, but unfortunately they have but one governing principle in
life--to get good prices for bad horses.

On the arrival of the steamer at Reykjavik the competition among the
horse-traders is really the only lively feature in the place.
Immediately after the passengers get ashore they are beset by offers
of accommodation in the line of horse-flesh. Vagabonds and idlers of
every kind, if they possess nothing else in the world, are at least
directly or indirectly interested in this species of property. The
roughest specimens of humanity begin to gather in from the country
around the corners of the streets near the hotel, with all the
worn-out, lame, halt, blind, and spavined horses that can be raked up
by hook or crook in the neighborhood. Such a medley was never seen in
any other country. Barnum's woolly horse was nothing to these shaggy,
stunted, raw-backed, bow-legged, knock-kneed little monsters, offered
to the astonished traveler with unintelligible pedigrees in the
Icel