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 fiy-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 



a party of four for a little trip. We stayed at a 



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