FLOSl’S FEAT. 
93 
eight hours perfect silence reigned throughout our little 
encampment, except when Wilson’s sob-like snores 
shook to their foundation the canvas walls that sheltered 
him. 
When I awoke—I do not know at wliat . hour, for 
from this time we kept no account of day or night—the 
white sunlight was streaming into the tent, and the 
whole landscape was gleaming and glowing in the beauty 
of one of the hottest summer-days I ever remember. We 
breakfasted in our shirt-sleeves, and I was forced to 
wrap my head in a white handkerchief, for fear of the 
sun. As we were all a little stiff after our ride, I could 
not resist the temptation of spending the day where 
we were, and examining more leisurely the wonderful 
features of the neighbourhood. Independently of its 
natural curiosities, Thingvalla was most interest¬ 
ing to me on account of the historical associations 
connected with it. Here, long ago, at a period when 
feudal despotism was the only government known 
throughout Europe, free parliaments used to sit in 
peace, and regulate the affairs of the young .Republic; 
and to this hour the precincts of its Commons House of 
Parliament are as distinct and unchanged as on the day 
