bt they are very fine, but it is not
within the bounds of possibility that they should equal the Geysers of
California."

"Indeed, sir! I didn't know you had Geysers there."

"Didn't know it! Never heard of the Geysers of California?"

"Never, sir."

"Well, Zoega, that is remarkable. Our Geysers are the finest, the
bitterest, the smokiest, the noisiest, the most infernal in the world;
and as for mountains, our Shasta Bute would knock your Mount Hecla
into a cocked hat!"

"Is it possible!"

"Of course it is."

"And have you great lava-beds covering whole valleys as we have here?"

"Certainly--only they are made of gold. We call them Placers--Gold
Placers."

"A wonderful country, sir!"

"Would you like to go there, Zoega?"

"No, sir; I'd rather stay here."

[Illustration: SHEPHERD AND FAMILY.]

And so we talked, Zoega and I, as we jogged along pleasantly on our
way. Our ride, after we caught the first sight of the smoke,
continued for some two hours over a series of low hills, with little
green valleys lying between, till we came to an extensive bog that
skirts the base of the Langarfjal, a volcanic bluff forming the
background of the Geysers. It was now becoming interesting. Half an
hour more would settle the matter conclusively between California
and Iceland. Crossing the bog where it was not very wet, we soon came
to a group of huts at the turning-point of the hill, where we were
met by a shepherd and his family. All turned out, big and little, to
see the strangers. The man and his wife were fair specimens of
Icelandic peasantry--broad-faced, blue-eyed, and good-natured, with
yellowish hair, and a sort of mixed costume, between the civilized
and the barbarous. The children, of which there must have been over a
dozen, were of the usual cotton-head species found in all Northern
countries, and wore any thing apparently they could get, from the
cast-off rags of their parents to sheepskins and raw hide. Nothing
could surpass the friendly interest of the old shepherd. He asked
Zoega a thousand questions about the "gentleman," and begged that we
would dismount and do him the honor to take a cup of coffee, which
his wife would prepare for us in five minutes. Knowing by experience
that five minutes in Iceland means any time within five hours, I was
reluctantly obliged to decline the invitation. The poor fellow seemed
much disappointed, and evidently was sincere in his offers of
hospitality. To compromise th