t this was out of the question. The entire population of the
village turned out to see me, old and young hastened to the church, and
stood round in a circle and gazed at me.

Irksome as this curiosity was, I was obliged to endure it patiently, for
I could not have sent these good people away without seriously offending
them; so I began quietly to unpack my little portmanteau, and proceeded
to boil my coffee over a spirit-lamp. A whispering consultation
immediately began; they seemed particularly struck by my mode of
preparing coffee, and followed every one of my movements with eager eyes.
My frugal meal dispatched, I resolved to try the patience of my audience,
and, taking out my journal, began to write. For a few minutes they
remained quiet, then they began to whisper one to another, "She writes,
she writes," and this was repeated numberless times. There was no sign
of any disposition to depart; I believe I could have sat there till
doomsday, and failed to tire my audience out. At length, after this
scene had lasted a full hour, I could stand it no longer, and was fain to
request my amiable visitors to retire, as I wished to go to bed.

My sleep that night was none of the sweetest. A certain feeling of
discomfort always attaches to the fact of sleeping in a church alone, in
the midst of a grave-yard. Besides this, on the night in question such a
dreadful storm arose that the wooden walls creaked and groaned as though
their foundations were giving way. The cold was also rather severe, my
thermometer inside the church shewing only two degrees above zero. I was
truly thankful when approaching day brought with it the welcome hour of
departure.

June 5th.

The heavy sleepiness and extreme indolence of an Icelandic guide render
departure before seven o'clock in the morning a thing not to be thought
of. This is, however, of little consequence, as there is no night in
Iceland at this time of year.

Although the distance was materially increased by returning to Reikjavik
by way of Grundivik and Keblevik, I chose this route in order to pass
through the wildest of the inhabited tracts in Iceland.

The first stage, from Krisuvik to Grundivik, a distance of twelve to
fourteen miles, lay through fields of lava, consisting mostly of small
blocks of stone and fragments, filling the valley so completely that not
a single green spot remained. I here met wit