At every fresh declivity new scenes of deserted, melancholy
districts were revealed to us; every thing was cold and dead, every
where there was black burnt lava. It was a painful feeling to see
so much, and behold nothing but a stony desert, an immeasurable
chaos.
There were still two declivities before us, - the last, but the
worst. We had to climb steep masses of lava, sharp and pointed,
which covered the whole side of the mountain. I do not know how
often I fell and cut my hands on the jagged points of the lava. It
was a fearful journey!
The dazzling whiteness of the snow contrasted with the bright black
lava beside it had an almost blinding effect. When crossing fields
of snow I did not look at the lava; for having tried to do so once
or twice, I could not see my way afterwards, and had nearly grown
snow-blind.
After two hours' more labour we reached the summit of the mountain.
I stood now on Mount Hecla, and eagerly sought the crater on the
snowless top, but did not find it. I was the more surprised, as I
had read detailed accounts of it in several descriptions of travel.
I traversed the whole summit of the mountain and climbed to the
adjoining jokul, but did not perceive an opening, a fissure, a
depressed space, nor any sign of a crater.
