to do it (whack), but it is
(whack) for thine own good! Now hear and repent, and henceforth let
thy ways be the ways of the virtuous and the just!" It was absolutely
delightful to witness the joy of Brusa when the whipping was over.
Without one word of comment Zoega would throw him the bread, and then
gravely mount his horse and ride on. For hours after the victim of his
displeasure would run, and jump, and bark, and caper with excess of
delight. I really thought it was a kindness to whip him, he enjoyed it
so much afterward.

[Illustration: GEIR ZOEGA AND BRUSA.]

Whenever our loose horses got off the trail or lagged behind, the
services of our dog were invaluable. Zoega had a particular way of
directing his attention to the errant animal. "Hur-r-r-r!--(a roll of
the tongue)--Hur-r-r-r Brusa!" and off Brusa would dash, his hair on
end with rage, till within a few feet of the horse, when he would
commence a series of terrific demonstrations, barking and snapping at
the heels of the vagrant. Backing of ears to frighten him, or kicks at
his head, had no terrors for him; he was altogether too sagacious to
be caught within reach of dangerous weapons.

I know of nothing to equal the sagacity of these Icelandic dogs save
that of the sheep-dogs of France and Germany. They are often sent out
in the pastures to gather up the horses, and will remain by them and
keep them within bounds for days at a time. They are also much used in
the management of sheep. Unlike the regular shepherd-dog of Europe,
however, they are sometimes thievish and treacherous, owing to their
wolfish origin. I do not think we could have made ten miles a day
without Brusa. In the driving of pack-trains a good dog is
indispensable. I always gave the poor fellow something to eat when we
stopped in consideration of his services.

CHAPTER XLVII.

THE ALMANNAJAU.

We rode for some time along an elevated plateau of very barren aspect
till something like a break in the outline became visible a few
hundred yards ahead. I had a kind of feeling that we were approaching
a crisis in our journey, but said nothing. Neither did Zoega, for he
was not a man to waste words. He always answered my questions
politely, but seldom volunteered a remark. Presently we entered a
great gap between two enormous cliffs of lava.

"What's this, Zoega?" I asked.

"Oh, this is the Almannajau."

"What! the great Almannajau, where the Icelandic Parliament used to
camp!"