colour, and mixed, in many
instances, with sand or earth.

Some miles from Thingvalla we entered a valley, the soil of which is
fine, but nevertheless only sparingly covered with grass, and full of
little acclivities, mostly clothed with delicate moss. I have no doubt
that the indolence of the inhabitants alone prevents them from materially
improving many a piece of ground. The worst soil is that in the
neighbourhood of Reikjavik; yet there we see many a garden, and many a
piece of meadow-land, wrung, as it were, from the barren earth by labour
and pains. Why should not the same thing be done here--the more so as
nature has already accomplished the preliminary work?

Thingvalla, our resting-place for to-night, is situate on a lake of the
same name, and only becomes visible when the traveller is close upon it.
The lake is rather considerable, being almost three miles in length, and
at some parts certainly more than two miles in breadth; it contains two
small islands,--Sandey and Nesey.

My whole attention was still riveted by the lake and its naked and gloomy
circle of mountains, when suddenly, as if by magic, I found myself
standing on the brink of a chasm, into which I could scarcely look
without a shudder; involuntarily I thought of Weber's _Freyschutz_ and
the "Wolf's Hollow." {36}

The scene is the more startling from the circumstance that the traveller
approaching Thingvalla in a certain direction sees only the plains beyond
this chasm, and has no idea of its existence. It was a fissure some five
or six fathoms broad, but several hundred feet in depth; and we were
forced to descend by a small, steep, dangerous path, across large
fragments of lava. Colossal blocks of stone, threatening the unhappy
wanderer with death and destruction, hang loosely, in the form of
pyramids and of broken columns, from the lofty walls of lava, which
encircle the whole long ravine in the form of a gallery. Speechless, and
in anxious suspense, we descend a part of this chasm, hardly daring to
look up, much less to give utterance to a single sound, lest the
vibration should bring down one of these avalanches of stone, to the
terrific force of which the rocky fragments scattered around bear ample
testimony. The distinctness with which echo repeats the softest sound
and the lightest footfall is truly wonderful.

The appearance presented by the horses, which are allowed to come down
the ravine after their masters have descended,