When my tent was ready it was nearly eleven o'clock. My companions
retired, and I remained alone.
It is usual to watch through the night in order not to miss an
eruption. Now, although an alternate watching is no very arduous
matter for several travellers, it became a very hard task for me
alone, and an Icelandic peasant cannot be trusted; an eruption of
Mount Hecla would scarcely arouse him.
I sat sometimes before and sometimes in my tent, and listened with
anxious expectation for the coming events; at last, after midnight -
the witching hour - I heard some hollow sounds, as if a cannon were
being fired at a great distance, and its echoing sounds were borne
by the breeze. I rushed from my tent and expected subterranean
noises, violent cracking and trembling of the earth, according to
the descriptions I had read. I could scarcely repress a slight
sensation of fear. To be alone at midnight in such a scene is
certainly no joke.
Many of my friends may remember my telling them, before my
departure, that I expected I should need the most courage on my
Icelandic journey during the nights at the Geyser.
These hollow sounds were repeated, at very short intervals, thirteen
times; and each time the basin overflowed and ejected a considerable
quantity of water. The sounds did not seem to proceed from
subterranean ragings, but from the violent agitation of the waters.
In a minute and a half all was over; the water no longer overflowed,
the caldron and basin remained filled, and I returned to my tent
disappointed in every way. This phenomenon was repeated every two
hours and a half, or, at the latest, every three hours and a half.
I saw and heard nothing else all night, the next day, or the second
night. I waited in vain for an eruption.
When I had accustomed myself to these temporary effusions of my
neighbour, I either indulged in a gentle slumber in the intermediate
time, or I visited the other springs and explored. I wished to
discover the boiling vapour and the coloured springs which many
travellers assert they have seen here.
All the hot-springs are united with a circumference of 800 to 900
paces: several of them are very remarkable, but the majority
insignificant.
They are situated in the angle of an immense valley at the foot of a
hill, behind which extends a chain of mountains. The valley is
entirely covered with grass, and the vegetation only decreases a
little in the immediate vicinity of the springs. Cottages are built
every where in the neighbourhood; the nearest to the springs are
only about 700 to 800 paces distant.
