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Updated: June 14, 2025
He took every thing in a literal sense, and was of so obliging a disposition that he would spend hours in the vain endeavor to satisfy my curiosity on any doubtful point. "Why, Zoega," said I, "this is a monstrous practice. I never saw any thing like it. Are you quite sure that fellow won't kick when he tries to blow his nose?" "Yes, sir, they never kick."
Where could this terrible flood have come from? The mountains in the distance look so peaceful in their snowy robes, so incapable of the rage from which all this desolation must have sprung, that I could scarcely reconcile such terrible results with an origin so apparently inadequate. I questioned Zoega on this point, but not with much success.
Doubtless he had come near being drowned many a time before; he seemed to be used to it. All I could do for him in the present instance would be to break the melancholy intelligence to his wife as tenderly as possible. While thus philosophizing, Zoega plunged in deeper and deeper till he was surrounded by the raging torrent on the very verge of the great fissure.
Somehow it was always pleasant to talk with Zoega, his simplicity was so refreshing. The display was really magnificent. An immense dark column shot into the air to the height of sixty or seventy feet, composed of innumerable jets of water and whirling masses of sod. It resembled a thousand fountains joined together, each with a separate source of expulsion.
One galvanic jump an involuntary shout of triumph and I was rolling heels over head on the crust of earth about ten feet off, the hot water and clumps of sod tumbling down about me in every direction. Another scramble brought me to my feet, of which I made such good use that I was forty yards beyond Zoega before I knew distinctly what had happened.
On my return Zoega was saddling up the horses. A cup of coffee and a dry biscuit put me in traveling order, and we were soon on our way up the valley. For the first few miles we followed the range of the "Jau," from which we then diverged across the great lava-beds of Thingvalla.
I was very anxious to see the performance suggested by Zoega, and readily consented to assist him in getting the sods. The Strokhr lay about a hundred yards from our tent, nearly in a line between the Great and Little Geysers.
They are an honest, primitive people, decently but very coarsely clad in rough woolen garments manufactured by themselves, and shaped much in the European style. On their feet they wear moccasins made of sheepskin. Whenever we met these pack-trains in any convenient place, the drivers stopped to have a talk with Zoega, often riding back a mile or two to enjoy the novelty of his conversation.
Should Zoega be swept down over the cataract, as appeared quite probable, there would be no necessity for me to follow him. I had a genuine regard for the poor fellow, and it would pain me greatly to lose him; but then he was paid so much per day for risking his life, and how could I help it if he chose to pursue such a perilous career?
Strictly honest in his judgment, according to his own ideas, is this man, who should be Thorwaldsen's guide. We let three years glide away after the arrival of Thorwaldsen, and ask Zoega what he now says of Albert, or, as the Italians call him, Alberto, and the severe man shakes his head and says: "There is much to blame, little to be satisfied with, and diligent he is not!"
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