ages lay scattered here and there; at
long intervals a bird would hover in the air, and still more seldom I
heard the kindly greeting of a passing inhabitant. Heaps of lava,
swamps, and turf-bogs surrounded me on all sides; in all the vast expanse
not a spot was to be seen through which a plough could be driven.

After riding more than four miles, I reached a hill, from which I could
see Reikjavik, the chief harbour, and, in fact, the only town on the
island. But I was deceived in my expectations; the place before me was a
mere village.

The distance from Havenfiord to Reikjavik is scarcely nine miles; but as
I was unwilling to tire my good old guide, I took three hours to
accomplish it. The road was, generally speaking, very good, excepting in
some places, where it lay over heaps of lava. Of the much-dreaded dizzy
abysses I saw nothing; the startling term must have been used to
designate some unimportant declivities, along the brow of which I rode,
in sight of the sea; or perhaps the "abysses" were on the lava-fields,
where I sometimes noticed small chasms of fifteen or sixteen feet in
depth at the most.

Shortly after eight o'clock in the evening I was fortunate enough to
reach Reikjavik safe and well. Through the kind forethought of Herr
Knudson, a neat little room had been prepared for me in one of his houses
occupied by the family of the worthy baker Bernhoft, and truly I could
not have been better received any where.

During my protracted stay the whole family of the Bernhofts shewed me
more kindness and cordiality than it has been my lot frequently to find.
Many an hour has Herr Bernhoft sacrificed to me, in order to accompany me
in my little excursions. He assisted me most diligently in my search for
flowers, insects, and shells, and was much rejoiced when he could find me
a new specimen. His kind wife and dear children rivalled him in
willingness to oblige. I can only say, may Heaven requite them a
thousand-fold for their kindness and friendship!

I had even an opportunity of hearing my native language spoken by Herr
Bernhoft, who was a Holsteiner by birth, and had not quite forgotten our
dear German tongue, though he had lived for many years partly in Denmark,
partly in Iceland.

So behold me now in the only town in Iceland, {27} the seat of the
so-called cultivated classes, whose customs and mode of life I will now
lay before my honoured readers.

Nothing was more disagreeable to me than a cer