Letters From High Latitudes By Lord Dufferin















































































 -   On this last
occasion, - although we did not prepare the plate until
a good twenty minutes after the turf was - Page 97
Letters From High Latitudes By Lord Dufferin - Page 97 of 286 - First - Home

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On This Last Occasion, - Although We Did Not Prepare The Plate Until A Good Twenty Minutes After The Turf Was Thrown In, - The Spring Remained Inactive So Much Longer Than Is Usual That The Collodion Became Quite Insensitive, And The Eruption Left No Impression Whatever Upon It.

Of our return journey to Reykjavik I think I have no very interesting particulars to give you.

During the early part of the morning there had been a slight threatening of rain; but by twelve o'clock it had settled down into one of those still dark days, which wrap even the most familiar landscape in a mantle of mystery. A heavy, low-hung, steel-coloured pall was stretched almost entirely across the heavens, except where along the flat horizon a broad stripe of opal atmosphere let the eye wander into space, in search of the pearly gateways of Paradise. On the other side rose the contorted lava mountains, their bleak heads knocking against the solid sky and stained of an inky blackness, which changed into a still more lurid tint where the local reds struggled up through the shadow that lay brooding over the desolate scene. If within the domain of nature such another region is to be found, it can only be in the heart of those awful solitudes which science has unveiled to us amid the untrodden fastnesses of the lunar mountains. An hour before reaching our old camping-ground at Thingvalla, as if summoned by enchantment, a dull grey mist closed around us, and suddenly confounded in undistinguishable ruin the glory and the terror of the panorama we had traversed; sky, mountains, horizon, all had disappeared; and as we strained our eyes from the edge of the Rabna Gja across the monotonous grey level at our feet, it was almost difficult to believe that there lay the same magical plain, the first sight of which had become almost an epoch in our lives.

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