hat the roads were bad, and
particularly emphasised the dangerous abysses I should be compelled to
pass. I comforted him with the assurance that I was a good horsewoman,
and could hardly have to encounter worse roads than those with which I
had had the honour to become acquainted in Syria. I therefore took leave
of the kind gentleman, who intended to stay a week or ten days in
Havenfiord, and mounting a small horse, set out in company of a female
guide.

In my guide I made the acquaintance of a remarkable antiquity of Iceland,
who is well worthy that I should devote a few words to her description.
She is above seventy years of age, but looks scarcely fifty; her head is
surrounded by tresses of rich fair hair. She is dressed like a man;
undertakes, in the capacity of messenger, the longest and most fatiguing
journeys; rows a boat as skilfully as the most practised fisherman; and
fulfils all her missions quicker and more exactly than a man, for she
does not keep up so good an understanding with the brandy-bottle. She
marched on so sturdily before me, that I was obliged to incite my little
horse to greater speed with my riding-whip.

At first the road lay between masses of lava, where it certainly was not
easy to ride; then over flats and small acclivities, from whence we could
descry the immense plain in which are situated Havenfiord, Bassastadt,
Reikjavik, and other places. Bassastadt, a town built on a promontory
jutting out into the sea, contains one of the principal schools, a church
built of masonry, and a few cottages. The town of Reikjavik cannot be
seen, as it is hidden behind a hill. The other places consist chiefly of
a few cottages, and only meet the eye of the traveller when he approaches
them nearly. Several chains of mountains, towering one above the other,
and sundry "Jokuls," or glaciers, which lay still sparkling in their
wintry garb, surround this interminable plain, which is only open at one
end, towards the sea. Some of the plains and hills shone with tender
green, and I fancied I beheld beautiful meadows. On a nearer inspection,
however, they proved to be swampy places, and hundreds upon hundreds of
little acclivities, sometimes resembling mole-hills, at others small
graves, and covered with grass and moss.

I could see over an area of at least thirty or forty miles, and yet could
not descry a tree or a shrub, a bit of meadow-land or a friendly village.
Every thing seemed dead. A few cott