Jules Verne A Journey To The Center Of The Earth

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and No to my uncle's questions as to the nature of the road, and at last when
asked where we were to pass the night was as laconic as usual.
"Gardar!" was his one-worded reply.
I took occasion to consult the map, to see where Gardar was to be found. After
looking keenly
I found a small town of that name on the borders of the Hvalfjord, about four
miles from
Reykjavik. I pointed this out to my uncle, who made a very energetic grimace.
"Only four miles out of twenty-two? Why it is only a little walk." He was
about to make some energetic observation to the guide, but Hans, without
taking the slightest notice of him, went in front of the horses, and walked
ahead with the same imperturbable phlegm he had always exhibited.
Three hours later, still traveling over those apparently interminable and
sandy prairies, we were compelled to go round the Kollafjord, an easier and
shorter cut than crossing the gulfs.
Shortly after we entered a place of communal jurisdiction called Ejulberg, and
the clock of which would then have struck twelve, if any Icelandic church had
been rich enough to possess so valuable and useful an article. These sacred
edifices are, however, very much like these people, who do without watches-
and never miss them.
Here the horses were allowed to take some rest and refreshment, then following
a narrow strip of shore between high rocks and the sea, they took us without
further halt to the Aoalkirkja of
Brantar, and after another mile to Saurboer Annexia, a chapel of ease,
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situated on the southern bank of the Hvalfjord.
It was four o'clock in the evening and we had traveled four Danish miles,
about equal to twenty English.
The fjord was in this place about half a mile in width. The sweeping and
broken waves came rolling in upon the pointed rocks; the gulf was surrounded
by rocky walls- a mighty cliff, three thousand feet in height, remarkable for
its brown strata, separated here and there by beds of tufa of a reddish hue.
Now, whatever may have been the intelligence of our horses, I had not the
slightest reliance upon them, as a means of crossing a stormy arm of the sea.
To ride over salt water upon the back of a little horse seemed to me absurd.
"If they are really intelligent," I said to myself, "they will certainly not
make the attempt. In any case, I shall trust rather to my own intelligence
than theirs."
But my uncle was in no humor to wait. He dug his heels into the sides of his
steed, and made for the shore. His horse went to the very edge of the water,
sniffed at the approaching wave and retreated.
My uncle, who was, sooth to say, quite as obstinate as the beast he bestrode,
insisted on his making the desired advance. This attempt was followed by a new
refusal on the part of the horse which quietly shook his head. This
demonstration of rebellion was followed by a volley of words and a stout
application of whipcord; also followed by kicks on the part of the horse,
which threw its head and heels upwards and tried to throw his rider. At length
the sturdy little pony, spreading out his legs, in a stiff and ludicrous
attitude, got from under the Professor's legs, and left him standing, with
both feet on a separate stone, like the Colossus of Rhodes.
"Wretched animal!" cried my uncle, suddenly transformed into a foot passenger-
and as angry and ashamed as a dismounted cavalry officer on the field of
battle.
"Farja," said the guide, tapping him familiarly on the shoulder.
"What, a ferry boat!
"Der," answered Hans, pointing to where lay the boat in question-"there."
"Well," I cried, quite delighted with the information; "so it is."
"Why did you not say so before," cried my uncle; "why not start at once?"
"Tidvatten," said the guide.
"What does he say?" I asked, considerably puzzled by the delay and the
dialogue.
"He says tide," replied my uncle, translating the Danish word for my
information.
"Of course I understand- we must wait till the tide serves."
"For bida?" asked my uncle.
"Ja," replied Hans.
My uncle frowned, stamped his feet and then followed the horses to where the
boat lay.
I thoroughly understood and appreciated the necessity for waiting, before
crossing the fjord, for that moment when the sea at its highest point is in a
state of slack water. As neither the ebb nor flow can then be felt, the ferry
boat was in no danger of being carried out to sea, or dashed upon the rocky
coast.
The favorable moment did not come until six o'clock in the evening. Then my
uncle, myself, and guide, two boatmen and the four horses got into a very
awkward flat-bottom boat.
Accustomed as I had been to the steam ferry boats of the Elbe, I found the
long oars of the boatmen but sorry means of locomotion. We were more than an
hour in crossing the fjord; but at length the passage was concluded without
accident.
Half an hour later we reached Gardar.
Chapter 10
Traveling in Iceland
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IT
ought, one would have thought, to have been night, even in the sixty-fifth
parallel of latitude; but still the nocturnal illumination did not surprise
me. For in Iceland, during the
months of June and July, the sun never sets.
The temperature, however, was very much lower than I expected. I was cold, but
even that did not affect me so much as ravenous hunger. Welcome indeed,
therefore, was the hut which hospitably opened its doors to us.
It was merely the house of a peasant, but in the matter of hospitality, it was
worthy of being the palace of a king. As we alighted at the door the master of
the house came forward, held out his hand, and without any further ceremony,
signaled to us to follow him.
We followed him, for to accompany him was impossible. A long, narrow, gloomy
passage led into the interior of this habitation, made from beams roughly
squared by the ax. This passage gave ingress to every room. The chambers were
four in number- the kitchen, the workshop, where the weaving was carried on,
the general sleeping chamber of the family, and the best room, to which
strangers were especially invited. My uncle, whose lofty stature had not been
taken into consideration when the house was built, contrived to knock his head
against the beams of the roof.
We were introduced into our chamber, a kind of large room with a hard earthen
floor, and lighted by a window, the panes of which were made of a sort of
parchment from the intestines of sheep- very far from transparent.
The bedding was composed of dry hay thrown into two long red wooden boxes,
ornamented with sentences painted in Icelandic. I really had no idea that we
should be made so comfortable. There was one objection to the house, and that
was, the very powerful odor of dried fish, of macerated meat, and of sour
milk, which three fragrances combined did not at all suit my olfactory nerves.
As soon as we had freed ourselves from our heavy traveling costume, the voice
of our host was heard calling to us to come into the kitchen, the only room in
which the Icelanders ever make any fire, no matter how cold it may be.
My uncle, nothing loath, hastened to obey this hospitable and friendly
invitation. I followed.
The kitchen chimney was made on an antique model. A large stone standing in
the middle of the room was the fireplace; above, in the roof, was a hole for
the smoke to pass through. This apartment was kitchen, parlor and dining room
all in one.
On our entrance, our worthy host, as if he had not seen us before, advanced
ceremoniously, uttered a word which means "be happy," and then kissed both of
us on the cheek.
His wife followed, pronounced the same word, with the same ceremonial, then
the husband and wife, placing their right hands upon their hearts, bowed
profoundly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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