ame behind,
cutting a very tolerable figure upon our small but vigorous animals.

Iceland is one of the largest islands in Europe. It contains thirty
thousand square miles of surface, and has about seventy thousand
inhabitants. Geographers have divided it into four parts, and we had to
cross the southwest quarter which in the vernacular is called Sudvestr
Fjordungr.

Hans, on taking his departure from Reykjavik, had followed the line of
the sea. We took our way through poor and sparse meadows, which made a
desperate effort every year to show a little green. They very rarely
succeed in a good show of yellow.

The rugged summits of the rocky hills were dimly visible on the edge of
the horizon, through the misty fogs; every now and then some heavy
flakes of snow showed conspicuous in the morning light, while certain
lofty and pointed rocks were first lost in the grey low clouds, their
summits clearly visible above, like jagged reefs rising from a troublous
sea.

Every now and then a spur of rock came down through the arid ground,
leaving us scarcely room to pass. Our horses, however, appeared not only
well acquainted with the country, but by a kind of instinct, knew which
was the best road. My uncle had not even the satisfaction of urging
forward his steed by whip, spur, or voice. It was utterly useless to
show any signs of impatience. I could not help smiling to see him look
so big on his little horse; his long legs now and then touching the
ground made him look like a six-footed centaur.

"Good beast, good beast," he would cry. "I assure you, that I begin to
think no animal is more intelligent than an Icelandic horse. Snow,
tempest, impracticable roads, rocks, icebergs--nothing stops him. He is
brave; he is sober; he is safe; he never makes a false step; never
glides or slips from his path. I dare to say that if any river, any
fjord has to be crossed--and I have no doubt there will be many--you
will see him enter the water without hesitation like an amphibious
animal, and reach the opposite side in safety. We must not, however,
attempt to hurry him; we must allow him to have his own way, and I
will undertake to say that between us we shall do our ten leagues a
day."

"We may do so," was my reply, "but what about our worthy guide?"

"I have not the slightest anxiety about him: that sort of people go
ahead without knowing even what they are about. Look at Hans. He moves
so little that it is impossible for him to b