VII.] 



WE START. 



47 



another gentleman, insisted on conveying us the first dozen 

 miles of our journey ; and as we clattered away through the 

 wooden streets, I think a merrier party never set out from 

 Reykjavik. In front scampered the three spare ponies, 

 without bridles, saddles, or any sense of moral responsibility, 

 flinging up their heels, biting and neighing like mad things ; 



then came Sigurdr, now become our chief, surrounded by 

 the rest of the cavalcade ; and finally, at a little distance, 

 plunged in profound melancholy, rode Wilson. Never shall 

 I forget his appearance. During the night his head had 

 come partially straight, but by way of precaution, I suppose, 

 he had conceived the idea of burying it down to the chin in 

 a huge seal-skin helmet I had given him against the in- 



