What, then, must other tracts be, more desert than this desert?
In the first half mile we had not seen one farmer standing before his cabin door, nor one shepherd tending a flock less wild than himself, nothing but a few cows and sheep left to themselves.
What then would be those convulsed regions upon which we were advancing, regions subject to the dire phenomena of eruptions, the offspring of volcanic explosions and subterranean convulsions?
We were to know them before long, but on consulting Olsen's map, I saw that they would be avoided by winding along the seashore.

In fact, the great plutonic action is confined to the central portion of the island; there, rocks of the trappean and volcanic class, including trachyte, basalt, and tuffs and agglomerates associated with streams of lava, have made this a land of supernatural horrors.
I had no idea of the spectacle which was awaiting us in the peninsula of Snaefell, where these ruins of a fiery nature have formed a frightful chaos.
In two hours from Rejkiavik we arrived at the burgh of Gufunes, called Aolkirkja, or principal church.

There was nothing remarkable here but a few houses, scarcely enough for a German hamlet.
Hans stopped here half an hour.

He shared with us our frugal breakfast; answering my uncle's questions about the road and our resting place that night with merely yes or no, except when he said "Gardaer." I consulted the map to see where Gardaer was.

I saw there was a small town of that name on the banks of the Hvalfiord, four miles from Rejkiavik.