The Journal of a Sporting Nomad 
good day’s shooting after snipe, golden plover, 
and ducks. At one place there was a small river 
that was situated about four miles from where 
the ship lay. I went over one day to try for 
some trout. In my fly-book I always carried a 
few salmon flies. On this occasion I killed on 
this stream three salmon with my ten-foot trout 
rod. They were great sport, and I think I 
was more pleased with the result than I was 
on the day I got thirty-six fish on the bigger 
river. 
Close to Reykjavik there is a boiling spring, 
where the women of the town are in the habit 
of washing their clothes. A shocking accident 
happened to a woman one day when we were at 
this place, for she slipped into the water and 
was so badly scalded that she died. It seems 
that the bank surrounding this pool had become 
so greasy owing to the soap used in washing 
that this unfortunate slipped down the bank 
into the water. 
Iceland is an odd place—there are no trees at 
all, and very little bush. What struck me most 
during a trip we made to the north of the island 
was the number of craters of extinct volcanoes 
that outcrop all over the sides of the mountains. 
We must have passed hundreds of them. 
We heard that we could obtain some good ~ 
ryper shooting by going inland, so we made up 4 
a party of four for a little trip. We stayed at a 
294 
