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"Whist! here, you darling boy!" called out some nocturnal prowlers to him; but he passed on, and entering the barracks, flung himself down in his hammock, weeping, all alone, and hardly sleeping until dawn. Sylvestre was soon out on the ocean, rapidly whisked away over the unknown seas, far more blue than Iceland's.
"O, but something there is, worthy a more attentive survey What say you to Miss Vernon? Does not she form an interesting object in the landscape, were all round as rude as Iceland's coast?" I could plainly perceive that Rashleigh disliked the topic now presented to him; but my frank communication had given me the advantageous title to make inquiries in my turn.
Nowhere does Iceland's hospitality flourish so well as in her outlying stations and in the remotest of her valleys, where travellers are few. We all got out of the boat and pulled her clear of the waves. Every one of us was only too glad to get the opportunity of stretching his legs after sitting cramped up on the hard boards for nearly four hours.
"O, but something there is, worthy a more attentive survey What say you to Miss Vernon? Does not she form an interesting object in the landscape, were all round as rude as Iceland's coast?" I could plainly perceive that Rashleigh disliked the topic now presented to him; but my frank communication had given me the advantageous title to make inquiries in my turn.
Off the coast of Iceland islands have appeared during several of the volcanic eruptions which that remote dependency of Denmark has manifested, and at various periods in Iceland's history the sea has been covered with pumice and other debris, which tell their own tale of what has been going on, without being in sufficient quantity to reach the surface in the form of an island mass.
Skaptar in the north, and Hecla in the south, being much the best known. In all, twenty-three eruptions are on record. Iceland's volcanoes rival Mount Aetna in height and magnitude, their action has been more continuous and intense, and the range of volcanic products is far greater than in Sicily.
Shakespeare, Milton, and Pope have been translated into the native tongue; one of the best printed newspapers I have ever seen is now published at Reykjavik; and the Colleges of Copenhagen are adorned by many an illustrious Icelandic scholar; but the glory of the old days is departed, and it is across a wide desolate flat of ignoble annals, as dull and arid as their own lava plains, that the student has to look back upon the glorious drama of Iceland's early history.
It sails on the lotus-leaf down the sacred waters of the Ganges, and the eyes of the Hindoo girl glisten on seeing it. The bird Phoenix! Dost thou not know it? The bird of Paradise, song's sacred swan! It sat on the car of Thespis, like a croaking raven, and flapped its black, dregs-besmeared wings; over Iceland's minstrel-harp glided the swan's red, sounding bill.
Since then, Iceland's contribution has been steady, not only in the works of those who wrote in foreign languages, but equally and during the last couple of decades exclusively in vernacular writing. In fact, with the return to his native country of Gunnar Gunnarsson in 1939, the vogue of writing in foreign languages virtually came to an end.
Shouldn't feel at home like without some of them around. Well, Mar, we shall all meet in the yappy yappy land, plea Gob in his goodness." He burst into a sort of chaunt, wagging his head, and beating time with his fist "Ho, won't that be jiy-ful? Jam for the fythe-ful. I wouldn't miss that meetin', Mar, not for all the nuts on Iceland's greasy mountains, the Psalmist made the song about.
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