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. Lower down in the sides
of the mountain, but not in the real cone, I saw some clefts and
fissures from which the streams of lava probably poured. The height
of the mountain is said to be 4300 feet.
During the last hour of our ascent the sun had grown dim. Clouds of
mist blown from the neighbouring glaciers enshrouded the hill-tops,
and soon enveloped us so closely that we could scarcely see ten
paces before us. At last they dissolved, fortunately not in rain
but in snow, which profusely covered the black uneven lava. The
snow remained on the ground, and the thermometer stood at one degree
of cold.
In a little while the clear blue sky once more was visible, and the
sun again shone over us. I remained on the top till the clouds had
separated beneath us, and afforded me a better distant view over the
country.
My pen is unfortunately too feeble to bring vividly before my
readers the picture such as I beheld it here, and to describe to
them the desolation, the extent and height of these lava-masses. I
seemed to stand in a crater, and the whole country appeared only a
burnt-out fire. Here lava was piled up in steep inaccessible
mountains; there stony rivers, whose length and breadth seemed
immeasurable, filled the once-verdant fields. Every thing was
jumbled together, and yet the course of the last eruption could be
distinctly traced.
I stood there, in the centre of horrible precipices, caves, streams,
valleys, and mountains, and scarcely comprehended how it was
possible to penetrate so far, and was overcome with terror at the
thought which involuntarily obtruded itself - the possibility of
never finding my way again out of these terrible labyrinths.
Here, from the top of Mount Hecla, I could see far into the
uninhabited country, the picture of a petrified creation, dead and
motionless, and yet magnificent, - a picture which once seen can
never again fade from the memory, and which alone amply compensates
for all the previous troubles and dangers. A whole world of
glaciers, lava-mountains, snow and ice-fields, rivers and lakes,
into which no human foot has ever ventured to penetrate. How nature
must have laboured and raged till these forms were created! And is
it over now? Has the destroying element exhausted itself; or does
it only rest, like the hundred-headed Hydra, to break forth with
renewed strength, and desolate those regions which, pushed to the
verge of the sea-shore, encircle the sterile interior as a modest
wreath? I thank God that he has permitted me to behold this chaos
in his creation; but I thank him more heartily that he has placed me
to dwell in regions where the sun does more than merely give light;
where it inspires and fertilises animals and plants, and fills the
human heart with joy and thankfulness towards its Creator. {43}
The Westmann Isles, which are said to be visible from the top of
Hecla, I could not see; they were probably covered by clouds.
During the ascent of the Hecla I had frequently touched lava, -
sometimes involuntarily, when I fell; sometimes voluntarily, to find
a hot or at least a warm place. I was unfortunate enough only to
find cold ones. The falling snow was therefore most welcome, and I
looked anxiously around to see a place where the subterranean heat
would melt it. I should then have hastened thither and found what I
sought. But unfortunately the snow remained unmelted every where.
I could neither see any clouds of smoke, although I gazed steadily
at the mountain for hours, and could from my post survey it far down
the sides.
As we descended we found the snow melting at a depth of 500 to 600
feet; lower down, the whole mountain smoked, which I thought was the
consequence of the returning warmth of the sun, for my thermometer
now stood at nine degrees of heat. I have noticed the same
circumstance often on unvolcanic mountains. The spots from which
the smoke rose were also cold.
The smooth jet-black, bright, and dense lava is only found on the
mountain itself and in its immediate vicinity. But all lava is not
the same: there is jagged, glassy, and porous lava; the former is
black, and so is the sand which covers one side of Hecla. The
farther the lava and sand are from the mountain, the more they lose
this blackness, and their colour plays into iron-colour and even
into light-grey; but the lighter-coloured lava generally retains the
brightness and smoothness of the black lava.
