LETTER VIII. 



START FROM REYKJAVIK — SNAEFELL — THE LADY OF FRODA — A 

 BERSERK TRAGEDY — THE CHAMPION OF BREIDAVIK — ONUNDER 

 FIORD — THE LAST NIGHT — CROSSING THE ARCTIC CIRCLE — FETE 

 ON BOARD THE " REINE HORTENSE " — LE PERE ARCTIQUE — WE 

 FALL IN WITH THE ICE — THE " SAXON " DISAPPEARS — MIST — A 

 PARTING IN A LONELY SPOT — JAN MAYEN — MOUNT BEERENBERG — 

 AX UNPLEASANT POSITION — SHIFT OF WIND AND EXTRICATION — 

 "TO NORROWAY OVER THEFAEM" — A NASTY COAST — HAMMERFEST. 



Hammerfest, July. 



Back in. Europe again, — within reach of posts ! The glad 

 sun shining, the soft winds blowing, and roses on the cabin 

 table, — as if the region of fog and ice we have just fled forth 

 from were indeed the dream-land these summer sights would 

 make it seem. I cannot tell you how gay and joyous it all 

 appears to us, fresh from a climate that would not have been 

 unworthy of Dante's Inferno. And yet — had it. been twice 

 as bad, what we have seen would have more than repaid us, 

 though it has been no child's play to get to see it. 



But I must begin where I left off in my last letter, — just, 

 I think, as we were getting under way, to be towed by the 

 " Reine Horteuse" out of Reykjavik Harbour. Having been 

 up all night, — as soon as we were well clear of the land, and 

 that it was evident the towing business was doing well — I 

 turned in for a few hours. When I came on deck again we 

 had crossed the Faxe Fiord on our way north, and were 

 sweeping round the base of Snaefell — an extinct volcano 

 which rises from the sea in an icy cone to the height of 

 5.000 feet, and grimly looks across to Greenland. The day 

 was beautiful ; the mountain's summit beamed down upon 

 us in unclouded splendour, and everything seemed to pro- 

 mise an uninterrupted view of the west coast of Iceland, 

 along whose rugged cliffs few mariners have ever sailed. In- 



