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hand, and a leathern apron tied round his waist.

"Be happy," said the eider-down hunter, using his national salutation in
his own language.

"God dag--good day!" replied the former, in excellent Danish.

"Kyrkoherde," cried Hans, turning round and introducing him to my uncle.

"The Rector," repeated the worthy Professor; "it appears, my dear Harry,
that this worthy man is the Rector, and is not above doing his own
work."

During the speaking of these words the guide intimated to the Kyrkoherde
what was the true state of the case. The good man, ceasing from his
occupation, gave a kind of halloo, upon which a tall woman, almost a
giantess, came out of the hut. She was at least six feet high, which in
that region is something considerable.

My first impression was one of horror. I thought she had come to give us
the Icelandic kiss. I had, however, nothing to fear, for she did not
even show much inclination to receive us into her house.

The room devoted to strangers appeared to me to be by far the worst in
the presbytery; it was narrow, dirty and offensive. There was, however,
no choice about the matter. The Rector had no notion of practicing the
usual cordial and antique hospitality. Far from it. Before the day was
over, I found we had to deal with a blacksmith, a fisherman, a hunter, a
carpenter, anything but a clergyman. It must be said in his favor that
we had caught him on a weekday; probably he appeared to greater
advantage on the Sunday.

These poor priests receive from the Danish Government a most
ridiculously inadequate salary, and collect one quarter of the tithe of
their parish--not more than sixty marks current, or about L3 10s.
sterling. Hence the necessity of working to live. In truth, we soon
found that our host did not count civility among the cardinal virtues.

My uncle soon became aware of the kind of man he had to deal with.
Instead of a worthy and learned scholar, he found a dull ill-mannered
peasant. He therefore resolved to start on his great expedition as soon
as possible. He did not care about fatigue, and resolved to spend a few
days in the mountains.

The preparations for our departure were made the very next day after our
arrival at Stapi; Hans now hired three Icelanders to take the place of
the horses--which could no longer carry our luggage. When, however,
these worthy islanders had reached the bottom of the crater, they were
to go back and leave us to ourselves. This point was settled before they
would agree to start.

On this occasion, my uncle partly confided in Hans, the eider-duck
hunter, and gave him to understand that it was his intention to continue
his exploration of the volcano to the last possible limits.

Hans listened calmly, and then nodded his head. To go there, or
elsewhere, to bury himself in the bowels of the earth, or to travel over
its summits, was all the same to him! As for me, amused and occupied by
the incidents of travel, I had begun to forget the inevitable future;

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