ch one doing as
he or she likes... The Bird sends his fond love and a chirrup."

Chapter XVI. 4th June 1872-24th October 1872, In Iceland

Bibliography:

36. Zanzibar: City, Island and Coast. 2 vols., 1872. 37. Unexplored
Syria. 2 vols., 1872. 38. On Human Remains, etc., from Iceland, 1872.

69. In Edinburgh Again, 4th June 1872.

In May, Burton was back again in Edinburgh, preparing for the Iceland
journey. He took many walks down Princes Street and up Arthur's Seat
with Lady Stisted and his nieces, and "he was flattered," says Miss
Stisted, "by the kindness and hospitality with which he was received.
The 93rd Highlanders, stationed at the Castle, entertained in genuine
Highland fashion; and at our house he met most of the leading Scotch
families who happened to be lingering in the northern capital." Lord
Airlie, the High Commissioner, held brilliant receptions at Holyrood.
There were gay scenes--women in their smartest gowns, men wearing their
medals and ribands. General Sir H. Stisted was there in his red collar
and cross and star of the Bath. Burton "looked almost conspicuous in
unadorned simplicity." On 4th June [260] Burton left for Iceland. The
parting from his friends was, as usual, very hard. Says Miss Stisted,
"His hands turned cold, his eyes filled with tears." Sir W. H. Stisted
accompanied him to Granton, whence, with new hopes and aspirations, he
set sail. Spectacularly, Iceland--Ultima Thule--as he calls it--was a
disappointment to him. "The giddy, rapid rivers," were narrow brooks,
Hecla seemed but "half the height of Hermon," the Great Geyser was
invisible until you were almost on the top of it. Its voice of thunder
was a mere hiccough. Burton, the precise antithesis of old Sir John de
Mandeville, was perhaps the only traveller who never told "travellers'
tales." Indeed, he looked upon Sir John as a disgrace to the cloth;
though he sometimes comforted himself with the reflection that most
likely that very imaginative knight never existed. But he thoroughly
enjoyed these Icelandic experiences, for, to use one of his own phrases,
the power of the hills was upon him. With Mr. Lock he visited the
concession, and on his way passed through a village where there was a
fair, and where he had a very narrow escape. A little more, we are told,
and a hideous, snuffy, old Icelandic woman would have kissed him. In
respect to the survey, the mass of workable material was enormous.
There was no