Iceland! But What Next?

On the 2nd, at six in the evening, all our precious baggage being safely on board the Valkyria, the captain took us into a very narrow cabin.

On the 2nd, at six in the evening, all our precious luggage was safely aboard the Valkyria. The captain then took us into a very narrow cabin.

"Is the wind favourable?" my uncle asked.

"Is the wind favorable?" my uncle asked.

"Excellent," replied Captain Bjarne; "a sou'-easter. We shall pass down the Sound full speed, with all sails set."

"Excellent," replied Captain Bjarne. "A southeasterly wind. We'll sail down the Sound at full speed with all sails set."

In a few minutes the schooner, under her mizen, brigantine, topsail, and topgallant sail, loosed from her moorings and made full sail through the straits. In an hour the capital of Denmark seemed to sink below the distant waves, and the Valkyria was skirting the coast by Elsinore. In my nervous frame of mind I expected to see the ghost of Hamlet wandering on the legendary castle terrace.

Within minutes, the schooner cast off its moorings and sailed at full sail through the straits. Its mizen, brigantine, topsail, and topgallant sail were all raised. An hour later, Denmark’s capital seemed to sink below the distant waves. The Valkyria was sailing along the coast near Elsinore. In my nervous state, I expected to see Hamlet’s ghost wandering on the legendary castle terrace.

"Sublime madman!" I said, "no doubt you would approve of our expedition. Perhaps you would keep us company to the centre of the globe, to find the solution of your eternal doubts."

"Magnificent madman!" I said. "You would surely approve of our expedition. Perhaps you would join us on our journey to the center of the Earth, to finally resolve your doubts."

But there was no ghostly shape upon the ancient walls. Indeed, the castle is much younger than the heroic prince of Denmark. It now answers the purpose of a sumptuous lodge for the doorkeeper of the straits of the Sound, before which every year there pass fifteen thousand ships of all nations.

But no ghostly figure appeared on the ancient walls. In fact, the castle is much younger than the heroic prince of Denmark. It now serves as a luxurious lodge for the keeper of the straits of the Sound. Every year, fifteen thousand ships from all nations pass in front of the castle.

The castle of Kronsberg soon disappeared in the mist, as well as the tower of Helsingborg, built on the Swedish coast, and the schooner passed lightly on her way urged by the breezes of the Cattegat.

The castle of Kronsberg and the tower of Helsingborg on the Swedish coast soon disappeared in the mist. The schooner sailed smoothly onward, carried by the breezes of the Cattegat.

The Valkyria was a splendid sailer, but on a sailing vessel you can place no dependence. She was taking to Rejkiavik coal, household goods, earthenware, woollen clothing, and a cargo of wheat. The crew consisted of five men, all Danes.

The Valkyria sailed splendidly, but you can never rely on a sailing vessel. She was carrying coal, household goods, pottery, woolen clothing, and a cargo of wheat to Rejkiavik. The crew consisted of five men, all Danes.

"How long will the passage take?" my uncle asked.

"How long will the journey take?" my uncle asked.

"Ten days," the captain replied, "if we don't meet a nor'-wester in passing the Faroes."

"Ten days," the captain replied, "if we don't run into a northwest wind as we pass the Faroes."

"But are you not subject to considerable delays?"

"But don't you face long delays?"

"No, M. Liedenbrock, don't be uneasy, we shall get there in very good time."

"No, M. Liedenbrock, don't worry. We'll get there in plenty of time."

In two days more we sighted the coast of Scotland near Peterhead, and the Valkyria turned her lead towards the Faroe Islands, passing between the Orkneys and Shetlands.

Two days later, we saw the coast of Scotland near Peterhead. The Valkyria headed toward the Faroe Islands, passing between the Orkneys and Shetlands.

Soon the schooner encountered the great Atlantic swell; she had to tack against the north wind, and reached the Faroes only with some difficulty. On the 8th the captain made out Myganness, the southernmost of these islands, and from that moment took a straight course for Cape Portland, the most southerly point of Iceland.

Soon the schooner met the great Atlantic swell. It had to tack against the north wind and reached the Faroes with some difficulty. On the 8th, the captain spotted Myganness, the southernmost of the islands. From then on, he sailed straight for Cape Portland, the southernmost point of Iceland.

The passage was marked by nothing unusual. I bore the troubles of the sea pretty well; my uncle, to his own intense disgust, and his greater shame, was ill all through the voyage.

Nothing unusual happened during the voyage. I handled the hardships of the sea pretty well. My uncle was seasick the whole time, much to his disgust and even greater shame.

He therefore was unable to converse with the captain about Snæfell, the way to get to it, the facilities for transport, he was obliged to put off these inquiries until his arrival, and spent all his time at full length in his cabin, of which the timbers creaked and shook with every pitch she took. It must be confessed he was not undeserving of his punishment.

He was therefore unable to talk to the captain about Snæfell, how to get there, or what transport was available. He had to put off these questions until he arrived. He spent all his time lying in his cabin, whose timbers creaked and shook whenever the ship pitched. It must be said that he deserved his punishment.

On the 11th we reached Cape Portland. The clear open weather gave us a good view of Myrdals jokul, which overhangs it. The cape is merely a low hill with steep sides, standing lonely by the beach.

On the 11th, we reached Cape Portland. The clear weather gave us a good view of Myrdals jokul, which rises above the cape. The cape is just a low hill with steep sides, standing alone by the beach.

The Valkyria kept at some distance from the coast, taking a westerly course amidst great shoals of whales and sharks. Soon we came in sight of an enormous perforated rock, through which the sea dashed furiously. The Westman islets seemed to rise out of the ocean like a group of rocks in a liquid plain. From that time the schooner took a wide berth and swept at a great distance round Cape Rejkianess, which forms the western point of Iceland.

The Valkyria stayed some distance from the coast, heading west among great shoals of whales and sharks. Soon we saw an enormous rock with a hole in it. The sea rushed furiously through the hole. The Westman islets seemed to rise from the ocean like a group of rocks in a liquid plain. From then on, the schooner kept well clear of Cape Rejkianess, sailing far around this western point of Iceland.

The rough sea prevented my uncle from coming on deck to admire these shattered and surf-beaten coasts.

The rough sea kept my uncle from coming on deck to admire the broken coastline battered by waves.

Forty-eight hours after, coming out of a storm which forced the schooner to scud under bare poles, we sighted east of us the beacon on Cape Skagen, where dangerous rocks extend far away seaward. An Icelandic pilot came on board, and in three hours the Valkyria dropped her anchor before Rejkiavik, in Faxa Bay.

Forty-eight hours later, we emerged from a storm that had forced the schooner to run before the wind with no sails raised. To the east, we sighted the beacon on Cape Skagen. Dangerous rocks extend far out to sea from the cape. An Icelandic pilot came aboard, and three hours later, the Valkyria dropped anchor off Rejkiavik, in Faxa Bay.

The Professor at last emerged from his cabin, rather pale and wretched-looking, but still full of enthusiasm, and with ardent satisfaction shining in his eyes.

The Professor finally came out of his cabin, looking rather pale and miserable. But he was still full of enthusiasm, and his eyes shone with eager satisfaction.

The population of the town, wonderfully interested in the arrival of a vessel from which every one expected something, formed in groups upon the quay.

The townspeople were keenly interested in the ship's arrival, as everyone expected something from it. They gathered in groups on the dock.

My uncle left in haste his floating prison, or rather hospital. But before quitting the deck of the schooner he dragged me forward, and pointing with outstretched finger north of the bay at a distant mountain terminating in a double peak, a pair of cones covered with perpetual snow, he cried:

My uncle hurried out of his floating prison, or rather, hospital. But before leaving the schooner's deck, he dragged me forward. He pointed north of the bay at a distant mountain with two peaks, cones covered in perpetual snow. Then he cried:

"Snæfell! Snæfell!"

"Snæfell! Snæfell!"

Then recommending me, by an impressive gesture, to keep silence, he went into the boat which awaited him. I followed, and presently we were treading the soil of Iceland.

Then he made a striking gesture to tell me to be quiet and got into the boat waiting for him. I followed, and soon we were standing on Icelandic soil.

The first man we saw was a good-looking fellow enough, in a general's uniform. Yet he was not a general but a magistrate, the Governor of the island, M. le Baron Trampe himself. The Professor was soon aware of the presence he was in. He delivered him his letters from Copenhagen, and then followed a short conversation in the Danish language, the purport of which I was quite ignorant of, and for a very good reason. But the result of this first conversation was, that Baron Trampe placed himself entirely at the service of Professor Liedenbrock.

The first man we saw was a fairly good-looking fellow in a general's uniform. Yet he was not a general. He was a magistrate, the island's Governor, M. le Baron Trampe himself. The Professor soon realized who he was. He gave the Baron his letters from Copenhagen. They then had a short conversation in Danish. I had no idea what they were saying, and for a very good reason. But as a result of this first conversation, Baron Trampe placed himself entirely at Professor Liedenbrock's service.

My uncle was just as courteously received by the mayor, M. Finsen, whose appearance was as military, and disposition and office as pacific, as the Governor's.

The mayor, M. Finsen, received my uncle just as courteously. Like the Governor, he looked military, but his character and office were peaceful.

As for the bishop's suffragan, M. Picturssen, he was at that moment engaged on an episcopal visitation in the north. For the time we must be resigned to wait for the honour of being presented to him. But M. Fridrikssen, professor of natural sciences at the school of Rejkiavik, was a delightful man, and his friendship became very precious to me. This modest philosopher spoke only Danish and Latin. He came to proffer me his good offices in the language of Horace, and I felt that we were made to understand each other. In fact he was the only person in Iceland with whom I could converse at all.

The bishop's suffragan, M. Picturssen, was away on an official church visit in the north. For the time being, we had to wait for the honor of being introduced to him. But M. Fridrikssen, a natural sciences professor at the school of Rejkiavik, was a delightful man. His friendship became very precious to me. This modest philosopher spoke only Danish and Latin. He came to offer me his help in the language of Horace, and I felt we were meant to understand each other. In fact, he was the only person in Iceland with whom I could converse at all.

This good-natured gentleman made over to us two of the three rooms which his house contained, and we were soon installed in it with all our luggage, the abundance of which rather astonished the good people of Rejkiavik.

This kind gentleman gave us two of the three rooms in his house. We soon settled in with all our luggage. The people of Rejkiavik were rather astonished by how much we had brought.

"Well, Axel," said my uncle, "we are getting on, and now the worst is over."

"Well, Axel," said my uncle, "we're making progress, and now the worst is over."

"The worst!" I said, astonished.

"The worst!" I said, surprised.

"To be sure, now we have nothing to do but go down."

"Of course, now all we have to do is go down."

"Oh, if that is all, you are quite right; but after all, when we have gone down, we shall have to get up again, I suppose?"

“Oh, if that’s all, you’re right. But once we’ve gone down, we’ll have to get back up again, I suppose?”

"Well, while you are there I will go into the town. Won't you?"

"Well, while you're there, I'll go into town. Won't you?"

"Oh, that is very uninteresting to me. It is not what is upon this island, but what is underneath, that interests me."

"Oh, that doesn't interest me at all. It's not what's on this island that interests me, but what's underneath it."

I went out, and wandered wherever chance took me.

I went out and wandered wherever chance led me.

It would not be easy to lose your way in Rejkiavik. I was therefore under no necessity to inquire the road, which exposes one to mistakes when the only medium of intercourse is gesture.

It would not be easy to get lost in Rejkiavik. So I had no need to ask for directions, which can lead to mistakes when you can only communicate through gestures.

The town extends along a low and marshy level, between two hills. An immense bed of lava bounds it on one side, and falls gently towards the sea. On the other extends the vast bay of Faxa, shut in at the north by the enormous glacier of the Snæfell, and of which the Valkyria was for the time the only occupant. Usually the English and French conservators of fisheries moor in this bay, but just then they were cruising about the western coasts of the island.

The town stretches across low, marshy ground between two hills. On one side, a vast bed of lava slopes gently toward the sea. On the other side lies the vast bay of Faxa, enclosed to the north by the enormous glacier of Snæfell. For the time being, the Valkyria was the only vessel in the bay. English and French fishery protection vessels usually anchor there, but they were then cruising along the island's western coasts.

The longest of the only two streets that Rejkiavik possesses was parallel with the beach. Here live the merchants and traders, in wooden cabins made of red planks set horizontally; the other street, running west, ends at the little lake between the house of the bishop and other non-commercial people.

The longer of Rejkiavik's only two streets ran parallel to the beach. Merchants and traders live here in wooden cabins made of horizontal red planks. The other street runs west and ends at the little lake, between the bishop's house and those of other people who are not merchants or traders.

I had soon explored these melancholy ways; here and there I got a glimpse of faded turf, looking like a worn-out bit of carpet, or some appearance of a kitchen garden, the sparse vegetables of which (potatoes, cabbages, and lettuces), would have figured appropriately upon a Lilliputian table. A few sickly wallflowers were trying to enjoy the air and sunshine.

I soon explored these gloomy paths. Here and there, I glimpsed faded grass that looked like a worn-out piece of carpet. I also saw what looked like a vegetable garden. Its few vegetables, potatoes, cabbages, and lettuces, would have looked right at home on a Lilliputian table. A few sickly wallflowers were trying to enjoy the air and sunshine.

About the middle of the tin-commercial street I found the public cemetery, inclosed with a mud wall, and where there seemed plenty of room.

About halfway down the street where tin was sold, I found the public cemetery. It was enclosed by a mud wall and seemed to have plenty of room.

Then a few steps brought me to the Governor's house, a but compared with the town hall of Hamburg, a palace in comparison with the cabins of the Icelandic population.

A few steps brought me to the Governor's house. It was a hut compared with the town hall of Hamburg, but a palace compared with the cabins of the Icelandic population.

Between the little lake and the town the church is built in the Protestant style, of calcined stones extracted out of the volcanoes by their own labour and at their own expense; in high westerly winds it was manifest that the red tiles of the roof would be scattered in the air, to the great danger of the faithful worshippers.

Between the little lake and the town stands a Protestant-style church. It was built of calcined stones taken from the volcanoes by their own labor and at their own expense. In strong westerly winds, the red roof tiles would clearly be blown into the air, putting the faithful worshippers in great danger.

On a neighbouring hill I perceived the national school, where, as I was informed later by our host, were taught Hebrew, English, French, and Danish, four languages of which, with shame I confess it, I don't know a single word; after an examination I should have had to stand last of the forty scholars educated at this little college, and I should have been held unworthy to sleep along with them in one of those little double closets, where more delicate youths would have died of suffocation the very first night.

On a nearby hill, I saw the national school. Our host later told me that Hebrew, English, French, and Danish were taught there. I am ashamed to confess that I do not know a single word of any of those four languages. In an examination, I would have come last among the forty students at this little college. I would have been considered unworthy to sleep with them in one of those little closets for two. More delicate youths would have suffocated there on the first night.

In three hours I had seen not only the town but its environs. The general aspect was wonderfully dull. No trees, and scarcely any vegetation. Everywhere bare rocks, signs of volcanic action. The Icelandic huts are made of earth and turf, and the walls slope inward; they rather resemble roofs placed on the ground. But then these roofs are meadows of comparative fertility. Thanks to the internal heat, the grass grows on them to some degree of perfection. It is carefully mown in the hay season; if it were not, the horses would come to pasture on these green abodes.

In three hours, I had seen both the town and the surrounding area. The whole place was remarkably dull. There were no trees and hardly any vegetation. Bare rocks were everywhere, showing signs of volcanic activity. The Icelandic huts are made of earth and turf, with walls that slope inward. They look more like roofs set on the ground. But these roofs are fairly fertile meadows. Thanks to the heat inside, the grass on them grows quite well. It is carefully cut during hay season. If it were not, the horses would come to graze on these green homes.

In my excursion I met but few people. On returning to the main street I found the greater part of the population busied in drying, salting, and putting on board codfish, their chief export. The men looked like robust but heavy, blond Germans with pensive eyes, conscious of being far removed from their fellow creatures, poor exiles relegated to this land of ice, poor creatures who should have been Esquimaux, since nature had condemned them to live only just outside the arctic circle! In vain did I try to detect a smile upon their lips; sometimes by a spasmodic and involuntary contraction of the muscles they seemed to laugh, but they never smiled.

I met few people on my excursion. When I returned to the main street, I found most of the population drying, salting, and loading codfish onto ships. Codfish was their chief export. The men looked like strong but heavyset, blond Germans with thoughtful eyes. They seemed aware of how far they were from their fellow human beings. They were poor exiles banished to this land of ice, poor creatures who should have been Esquimaux. Nature had condemned them to live just outside the arctic circle! I tried in vain to spot a smile on their lips. Sometimes their muscles twitched involuntarily, making them seem to laugh, but they never smiled.

Their costume consisted of a coarse jacket of black woollen cloth called in Scandinavian lands a 'vadmel,' a hat with a very broad brim, trousers with a narrow edge of red, and a bit of leather rolled round the foot for shoes.

They wore coarse black wool jackets made of a cloth called 'vadmel' in Scandinavia. They also wore broad-brimmed hats, trousers with narrow red edging, and pieces of leather wrapped around their feet as shoes.

The women looked as sad and as resigned as the men; their faces were agreeable but expressionless, and they wore gowns and petticoats of dark 'vadmel'; as maidens, they wore over their braided hair a little knitted brown cap; when married, they put around their heads a coloured handkerchief, crowned with a peak of white linen.

The women looked as sad and resigned as the men. Their faces were pleasant but expressionless, and they wore dresses and petticoats made of dark 'vadmel'. Unmarried women wore small, knitted brown caps over their braided hair. Married women wore colored headscarves topped with a peak of white linen.

After a good walk I returned to M. Fridrikssen's house, where I found my uncle already in his host's company.

After a good walk, I returned to M. Fridrikssen's house. I found my uncle already there with his host.