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course is frequently very short, particularly along the southern coast, where the jokuls from which they derive their birth are only separated from the sea by a narrow foreland. In their impetuous flow, they not seldom bear huge blocks of stone along with them, and cut off all communication between the inhabitants of their opposite banks.

The chief rivers of Iceland are, in the south, the Thiorsa and the Hvita, which are not inferior in width,to the Rhine in the middle part of its course; in the north, the Skjalfandafljot and the Jökulsa and the Jökulsa i Axarfirdi, large and rapid streams above a hundred miles long; and in the east the Lagarfliot. As may be expected in a mountainous country, containing many glacier-fed rivers, Iceland has numerous cascades, many of them rivalling or surpassing in beauty the far-famed falls of Switzerland.

One of the most celebrated of these gems of nature is the Goda-foss, in the northern part of the island, formed by the deep and rapid Skjalfandafljot, as it rushes with a deafening roar over rocks fifty feet high into the caldron below; but it is far surpassed in magnificence by the Dettifoss, a fall of the Jökulsa i Axarfirdi.

"In some of old earth's convulsions," says its discoverer, Mr. Gould,—for from its remote situation, deep in the northern wilds of Iceland, it had escaped the curious eye of previous travellers-"the crust of rock has been rent, and a frightful fissure formed in the basalt, about 200 feet deep, with the sides columnar and perpendicular. The gash terminates abruptly at an acute angle, and at this spot the great river rolls in. The wreaths of water sweeping down; the frenzy of the confined streams where they meet, shooting into each other from either side at the apex of an angle; the wild rebound when they strike a head of rock, lurching out half way down; the fitful gleam of battling torrents, obtained through a veil of eddying vapor; the Geysir-spouts which blow up about seventy feet from holes whence basaltic columns have been shot by the force of the descending water; the blasts of spray which rush upward and burst into fierce showers on the brink, feeding rills which plunge over the edge as soon as they are born; the white writhing vortex below, with now and then an ice-green wave tearing through the foam to lash against the walls; the thunder and bellowing of the water, which make the rock shudder under foot, are all stamped on my mind with a vividness which it will take years to efface. The Almannagja is nothing to this chasm, and Schaffhausen is dwarfed by Dettifoss."

The ocean-currents which wash the coasts of Iceland from opposite directions have a considerable influence on its climate. The south and west coasts, fronting the Atlantic, and exposed to the Gulf Stream, remain ice-free even in winter, and enjoy a comparatively mild temperature, while the cold Polar current, flowing in a south-western direction from Spitzbergen to Jan Mayen and Iceland, conveys almost every year to the eastern and northern shores of the island large masses of drift-ice, which sometimes do not disappear before July or even August. According to Dr. Thorstensen, the mean annual temperature of the air at Reykjavik is +40°, and that of the sea +42°, while according to Herr von Scheele the mean annual temperature at Akureyre, on the north coast,

is only +33°, though even this shows a comparatively mild climate in so high a latitude. But if Iceland, thanks to its insular position and to the influence of the Gulf Stream, remains free from the excessive winter cold of the Arctic continents, its summer, on the other hand, is inferior in warmth to that which reigns in the interior of Siberia, or of the Hudson's Bay territories.

The mean summer temperature at Reykjavik is not above +54°; during many years the thermometer never rises a single time above +80°; sometimes even its maximum is not higher than +59°; and, on the northern coast, snow not seldom falls even in the middle of summer. Under such circumstances, the cultivation of the cereals is of course impossible; and when the drift-ice remains longer than usual on the northern coasts, it prevents even the growth of the grass, and want and famine are the consequence.

The Icelandic summer is characterized by constant changes in the weather, rain continually alternating with sunshine, as with us in April. The air is but seldom tranquil, and storms of terrific violence are of frequent occurrence. Towards the end of September winter begins, preceded by mists, which finally descend in thick masses of snow. Travelling over the mountain-tracks is at this time particularly dangerous, although cairns or piles of stone serve to point out the way, and here and there, as over the passes of the Alps, small huts have been erected to serve as a refuge for the traveller.

In former times Iceland could boast of forests, so that houses and even ships used to be built of indigenous timber; at present it is almost entirely destitute of trees, for the dwarf shrubberies here and there met with, where the birch hardly attains the height of twenty feet, are not to be dignified with the name of woods. A service-tree (Sorbus ancuparia) fourteen feet high, and measuring three inches in diameter at the foot, is the boast of the governor's garden at Reykjavik; it is, however, surpassed by another at Akureyre, which spreads a full crown twenty feet from the ground, but never sees its clusters of berries ripen into scarlet.

The damp and cool Icelandic summer, though it prevents the successful cultivation of corn, is favorable to the growth of grasses, so that in some of the better farms the pasture-grounds are hardly inferior to the finest meadows in England. About one-third of the surface of the country is covered with vegetation of some sort or other fit for the nourishment of cattle; but, as yet, art has done little for its improvement-ploughing, sowing, drainage, and levelling being things undreamt of. With the exception of the grasses, which are of paramount importance, and the trees, which, in spite of their stunted proportions, are of great value, as they supply the islanders with the charcoal needed for shoeing their horses, few of the indigenous plants of Iceland are of any use to man. The Angelica archangelica is eaten raw with butter; the matted roots or stems of the Menyanthes trifoliata serve to protect the backs of the horses against the rubbing of the saddle; and the Icelandic moss, which is frequently boiled in milk, is likewise an article of exportation. The want of better grain frequently compels the poor islanders to bake a kind of bread from the seeds of the sand-reed (Elymus arenarius), which on our dunes are merely picked by the birds of passage; and the oarweed or tangle (Laminaria sac

charina) is prized as a vegetable in a land where potatoes and turnips are but rarely cultivated.

When the first settlers came to Iceland, they found but two indigenous land-quadrupeds: a species of field-vole (Arvicola oeconomus) and the Arctic fox; but the seas and shores were no doubt tenanted by a larger number of whales, dolphins, and seals than at the present day.

The ox, the sheep, and the horse which accompanied the Norse colonists to their new home, form the staple wealth of their descendants; for the number of those who live by breeding cattle is as three to one, compared with those who chiefly depend on the sea for their subsistence. Milk and whey are almost the only beverages of the Icelanders. Without butter they will eat no fish; and curdled milk, which they eat fresh in summer and preserve in a sour state during the winter, is their favorite repast. Thus they set the highest value on their cattle, and tend them with the greatest care. In the preservation of their sheep, they are much hampered by the badness of the climate, by the scantiness of winter food, and by the attacks of the eagles, the ravens, and the foxes, more particularly at the lambing season, when vast numbers of the young animals are carried off by all of them. The wool is not sheared off, but torn from the animal's back, and woven by the peasantry, during the long winter evenings, into a kind of coarse cloth, or knit into gloves and stockings, which form one of the chief articles of export.

"While at breakfast," says Mr. Shepherd, "we witnessed the Icelandic method of sheep-shearing. Three or four powerful young women seized, and easily threw on their backs the struggling victims. The legs were then tied, and the wool pulled off by main force. It seemed, from the contortions of some of the wretched animals, to be a cruel method; but we were told that there is a period in the year when the young wool, beginning to grow, pushes the old out before it, so that the old coat is easily pulled out." The number of heads of cattle in the island is about 40,000, that of the sheep 500,000.

The horses, which number from 50,000 to 60,000, though small, are very robust and hardy. There being no wheel carriages on the island, they are merely used for riding and as beasts of burden. Their services are indispensable, as without them the Icelanders would not have the means of travelling and carrying their produce to the fishing villages or ports at which the annual supplies arrive from Copenhagen. In winter the poor animals must find their own food, and are consequently mere skeletons in spring; they, however, soon recover in summer, though even then they have nothing whatever but the grass and small plants which they can pick up on the hills.

The dogs are very similar to those of Lapland and Greenland. Like them, they have long hair, forming a kind of collar round the neck, a pointed nose, pointed ears, and an elevated curled tail, with a temper which may be characterized as restless and irritable. Their general color is white.

In the year 1770 thirteen reindeer were brought from Norway. Ten of them died during the passage, but the three that survived have multiplied so fast that large herds now roam over the uninhabited wastes. During the winter, when hunger drives them into the lower districts, they are frequently shot;

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but no attempts have been made to tame them; for, though indispensable to the Laplander, they are quite superfluous in Iceland, which is too rugged and too much intersected by streams to admit of sledging. They are, in fact, generally considered as a nuisance, as they eat away the Icelandic moss, which the islanders would willingly keep for their own use.

The Polar bear is but a casual visitor in Iceland. About a dozen come drifting every year with the ice from Jan Mayen, or Spitzbergen, to the northern shores. Ravenous with hunger, they immediately attack the first herds they meet with; but their ravages do not last long, for the neighborhood, arising in arms, soon puts an end to their existence.

In Iceland the ornithologist finds a rich field for his favorite study, as there are no less than eighty-two different species of indigenous birds, besides twentyone that are only casual visitors, and six that have been introduced by man.

The swampy grounds in the interior of the country are peopled with legions of golden and king plovers, of snipes and red-shanks; the lakes abound with swans, ducks, and geese of various kinds; the snow-bunting enlivens the solitude of the rocky wilderness with his lively note, and, wherever grass grows, the common pipit (Anthus pratensis) builds its neat little nest, well lined with horsehair. Like the lark, he rises singing from the ground, and frequently surprises the traveller with his melodious warbling, which sounds doubly sweet. in the lifeless waste.

The eider-duck holds the first rank among the useful birds of Iceland. Its chief breeding-places are small flat islands on various parts of the coast, where it is safe from the attacks of the Arctic fox, such as Akurey, Flatey, and Videy,

which, from its vicinity to Reykjavik, is frequently visited by travellers. All these breeding-places are private property, and several have been for centuries

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in the possession of the same families, which, thanks to the birds, are among the wealthiest of the land. It may easily be imagined that the eider-ducks are guarded with the most sedulous care. Whoever kills one is obliged to pay a

SHOOTING REINDEER.

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