ight
almost call them rolling mountains--but my guide would not permit it.
Sometimes we came to spots where they were useful, and then he maintained
that I must ride as far as possible to reserve my strength for the
remaining difficulties. And he was right; I scarcely believe I should
have been able to go through it on foot, for when I thought we were near
the top, hills of lava again rose between us, and we seemed farther from
our journey's end than before.

My guide told me that he had never taken any one so far on horseback, and
I can believe it. Walking was bad enough--riding was fearful.

At every fresh declivity new scenes of deserted, melancholy districts
were revealed to us; every thing was cold and dead, every where there was
black burnt lava. It was a painful feeling to see so much, and behold
nothing but a stony desert, an immeasurable chaos.

There were still two declivities before us,--the last, but the worst. We
had to climb steep masses of lava, sharp and pointed, which covered the
whole side of the mountain. I do not know how often I fell and cut my
hands on the jagged points of the lava. It was a fearful journey!

The dazzling whiteness of the snow contrasted with the bright black lava
beside it had an almost blinding effect. When crossing fields of snow I
did not look at the lava; for having tried to do so once or twice, I
could not see my way afterwards, and had nearly grown snow-blind.

[Picture: Hecla]

After two hours' more labour we reached the summit of the mountain. I
stood now on Mount Hecla, and eagerly sought the crater on the snowless
top, but did not find it. I was the more surprised, as I had read
detailed accounts of it in several descriptions of travel.

I traversed the whole summit of the mountain and climbed to the adjoining
jokul, but did not perceive an opening, a fissure, a depressed space, nor
any sign of a crater. Lower down in the sides of the mountain, but not
in the real cone, I saw some clefts and fissures from which the streams
of lava probably poured. The height of the mountain is said to be 4300
feet.

During the last hour of our ascent the sun had grown dim. Clouds of mist
blown from the neighbouring glaciers enshrouded the hill-tops, and soon
enveloped us so closely that we could scarcely see ten paces before us.
At last they dissolved, fortunately not in rain but in snow, which
profusely covered the black uneven lava. The