84 THE POLAR WORLD. 



cordially welcomed by its mistress. The house itself was a great marvel. 

 The earthern wall that surrounded it and the window embrasures were occu- 

 pied by ducks. On the ground, the house was fringed with ducks. On the 

 turf-slopes of the roof we could see ducks ; and a duck sat in the scraper. 



" A grassy bank close by had been cut into square patches like a chess- 

 board (a square of turf of about eighteen inches being removed, and a hollow 

 made), and all were filled with ducks. A windmill was infested, and so were 

 all the outhouses, mounds, rocks, and crevices. The ducks were everywhere. 

 Many of them were so tame that we could stroke them on their nests ; and the 

 good lady told us that there was scarcely a duck on the island which would 

 not allow her to take its eggs without flight or fear. When she first became 

 possessor of the island, the produce of down from the ducks was not more 

 than fifteen pounds' weight in the year, but, under her careful nurture of twenty 

 years, it had risen to nearly one hundred pounds annually. It requires about 

 one pound and a half to make a coverlet for a single bed, and the down is 

 worth from twelve to fifteen shillings per pound. Most of the eggs are taken 

 and pickled for winter consumption, one or two only being left to hatch." 



Though not so important as the eider, the other members of the duck 

 family which during the summer season enliven the lakes and swamps of Ice- 

 land are very serviceable. On the Myvatn, or Gnat Lake, one of their chief 

 places of resort, the eggs of the long-tailed duck, the wild duck, the scoter, the 

 common goosander, the red-breasted merganser, the scaup-duck, etc., and other 

 anserines are carefully gathered and preserved in enormous quantities for the 

 winter, closely packed in a fine gray volcanic sand. 



The wild swan is frequently shot or caught for his feathers, which bring in 

 many a dollar to the fortunate huntsman. This noble bird frequents both the 

 salt and brackish waters along the coast and the inland lakes and rivers, where 

 it is seen either in single pairs or congregated in large flocks. To build its 

 nest, which is said to resemble closely that of the flamingo, being a large 

 mound, composed of mud, rushes, grass, and stones, with a cavity at top lined 

 with soft down, it retires to some solitary, uninhabited spot. Much has been 

 said in ancient times of the singing of the swan, and the beauty of its dying 

 notes ; but, in truth, the voice of the swan is very loud, shrill, and harsh, though 

 when high in the air, and modulated by the winds, the note or whoop of an 

 assemblage of them is not unpleasant to the ear. It has a peculiar charm in 

 the unfrequented wastes of Iceland, where it agreeably interrupts the profound 

 silence that reigns around. 



The raven, one of the commonest land-birds in Iceland, is an object of aver- 

 sion to the islanders, as it not only seizes on their young lambs and eider-ducks, 

 but also commits great depredations among the fishes laid out to dry upon the 

 shore. Poles to which dead ravens are attached, to serve as a warning to the 

 living, are frequently seen in the meadows ; and the Icelander is never so hap- 

 py as when he has succeeded in shooting a raven. This, however, is no easy 

 task, as no bird is more cautious, and its eyes are as sharp as those of the eagle. 

 Of all Icelandic birds, the raven breeds the earliest, laying about the middle of 

 March its five or six pale-green eggs, spotted with brown, in the inaccessible 



