p--only half past one--when people in most
other parts of the world are snug in bed, and don't expect to see a
streak of sunshine for at least four or five hours. How different from
any thing I had ever before seen was the sunrise in Iceland! No
crowing of the cock; no singing of the birds; no merry plow-boys
whistling up the horses in the barn-yard; no cherry-cheeked
milk-maids singing love-ditties as they tripped the green with their
pails upon their heads. All was grim, silent, and death-like. And yet
surely, for all that, the delicate tints of the snow-capped mountains,
the peaks of which were now steeped in the rays of the rising sun, the
broad valley slumbering in the shade, the clear, sparkling atmosphere,
and the exquisite coloring of the Langarfjal--the mighty crag that
towers over the Geysers--were beauties enough to redeem the solitude
and imbue the deserts with a celestial glory.
There are various theories concerning the cause of these eruptions of
water in Iceland. That of Lyell, the geologist, seems the most
reasonable. The earth, as it is well known, increases in heat at a
certain ratio corresponding with the depth from the surface. There are
cavities in many parts of it, arising from subterranean disturbances,
into which the water percolates from the upper strata. In Iceland the
probability is that these cavities are both numerous and extensive,
owing to volcanic causes, and form large receivers for the water of
the surrounding neighborhood. Wherever there is a natural outlet, as
at the Geysers, this water, which is boiled by the heat of the earth,
is forced to the surface by compression of steam, and remains at the
mouth of the pipe, or shaft, until an accumulation of compressed steam
drives it up in the form of a fountain. The periodical occurrence of
these eruptions in some of the hot-springs and not in others may arise
from a difference in the depth of the receiver, or more probably from
the existence of several outlets for the escape of steam in some, and
only one in others. A good illustration of this theory is presented in
the boiling of an ordinary tea-kettle. When the compression of steam
is great, the cover is lifted up and the water shoots from the spout,
by which means the pressure is relieved and the water subsides. The
same thing is repeated until the space within the kettle becomes
sufficiently large to admit of a more rapid condensation of the steam.
The action of the Strokhr, which, as
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