appeared to be a cluster of conical mountains, and one huge crater on the north slope of the Vatna Jökull. This larger crater, although partially filled with snow, was smoking at three points, but presented no other signs of activity. Having progressed about a mile upon the Vathalda, we were soon upon the pumice which was ejected last spring from the volcano of Oskja-gjà. It has fallen in a line about 25 miles broad from the centre of the Vathalda to the south of Herdubreid; this pumice has fallen from Oskja-gjà in a band of continuallyextending radii eastward to the seashore, destroying in its course six farms in the Jökull-dalr, and injuring others in the immediate vicinity. This shows that the prevalent winds during the eruption of Oskja-gjà must have been south-west. Two nights and a day, with short intervals of rest, brought us to the ferry of Grimstadir, where we obtained a boat and reached the farm of that name. The journey from Nupstad in the south to Grimstadir in the north, occupied us sixteen days; twelve of which were passed among the regions of perpetual snow. I must here remark that nothing could exceed the pluck, perseverance, and obedience of the Icelanders who accompanied me, without whom I could never have crossed the Vatna Jökull.

We rested for three days, and then started for the Odádahraun, in order to inspect the volcano whence the pumice had been this year erupted. It is situated in the southern portion of the Dyngjufjöll Mountains. I had been unable either to hire or purchase more than two horses, and as my own had not yet arrived from the south we were compelled to start on foot, using the two horses to carry our baggage and hay. I proceeded across the lava and sand desert of the Myvatns-orofi, to the little river of Gravalandà, upon the banks of which, and those of its neighbour the Linda, we found good feed for the horses. It was upon the banks of these rivers, beneath the shadow of the snow-capped Herdubreid, that the last of the Icelandic outlaws found a shelter. Herdubreid is one of the highest mountains in Iceland. The banks of the Gravalandà were in places thickly grown with birch and salix, but the larger wood was dead: I have noticed this in many other places. The banks of the Lindà abounded with Angelica arctura, the stem and roots of which are decidedly good to eat.

A weary march across the pumice brought us to the little desert where our tent had been left. During the first part of this march we had suffered greatly from want of water, but remembering that the pumice had fallen during the winter, I obtained a good supply of snow by digging through the pumice. I now sent back three of my men with the horses and all super

fluous luggage, with instructions to procure a fresh supply of provisions, and to wait for me on the banks of the Gravalandà. I "cached" two days' provisions and proceeded to the Dyngjufjöll. I found these mountains to consist of a series of semidetached sections, some of which had broken out in ancient times, and by their insignificant lava-streams had helped to swell the widely extending lava desert of the Odáda-hraun.

These sections of mountains described a heart-shaped form upon the south, inclosing the Askja. This is a three-cornered piece of elevated land 4000 feet high, about 6 miles long and 3 or 4 miles broad; it is easily reached by a glen upon the north-east side of the Dyngjufjöll. The principal crater which erupted this year is situated in the south corner of the Askja.

The crater is inclosed upon the eastern and western sides by mountains rising in some instances 1000 feet above the Askja plain; they appear shorn of their inner faces by the violence of the eruption, forming perpendicular cliffs of great height. These cliffs are rapidly falling in avalanches of stone occurring at frequent intervals, and had formed in two places steep slopes of pumice and débris which it is possible to descend; all access to the floor of the crater is prevented, however, by an interior rim of the precipice immediately at the base of the heights. It is well worth coming to Iceland to stand upon the summit of one of the surrounding mountains and look into the yawning crater which opens at one's feet, its grim chasms and black pits all contributing to the general aggregate of steam and loam stench, and horrid sound, while behind stretches a wild waste of glen, desert, and mountain, a country mourning in ashes and howling with desolation.

This volcano, which perhaps we may be allowed to call the Oskjagjà (the chasm of the oval casket), does not appear to have produced anything but pumice, mud, and water, copious floods of the latter having evidently flowed from its crater. It is curious to remark that although this volcano has ejected water, it is neither a glacial nor a snow-capped mountain, and it is situated more than 100 miles from the sea.

Leaving the volcano of Askja behind us and proceeding in a westerly direction we perceived that the lava from the Odádahraun had entered the Askja upon its most western side, having run for a considerable distance up hill. Upon descending the Dyngjufjöll to the west, a broad plain, barren and black with sand and lava, opened before us; this was the Odáda-braun.

There was the snowy mound of Skjaldbreid, spotted with protruding lava, with its curious tuft of rock at the top, somewhat similar to that on Herdubreid; further to the east lay Kistufell, by which we first descended into Northerland, and

behind, all the white expanse of the Vatna Jökull sweeping the horizon from east to west, where it is apparently joined by Tindafell, Tungnafell, and the Hofs Jökull, for from this position we could not see Sprengi Sands. We reached Skjaldbreid: it is a mound of basaltic lava, partially covered with snow, rising to a height of about 4000 feet. Eruptions from this mountain appeared to have taken more the form of prodigious boilings-over rather than that of terrific outbursts. The summit was enveloped in clouds, so I stopped within 300 feet of the top to get a good view of the country. Before me lay the Odáda-hraun to the north-east, Oskjagjà smoking with increased vigour in the clear cool morning air; at a point farther east was the long route which lay between us and the living world, stretching away bleak and bare to where the grey pumice in the distance gave the country the appearance of lying in bright sunshine; to the south was the Vatna, its more elevated crags enveloped in gloom and mist. The pure white Jökull, the black sands and lava fields, alike cold, bare, silent, motionless, and dead.

We will now briefly retrace our steps over the wastes of the Odáda-hraun past the fire-blasted hills of Dyngjuföll to happier districts which the volcano and the glacier have still spared to Iceland. While sojourning among the sheep-pastures of the north, my attention was arrested by stupendous columns of smoke arising from the direction of the Myvatns-orofi, and spreading out like phantoms of mammoth palm-trees amid the calm atmosphere of an autumn Sabbath morning. It was in the Myvatns-orofi that the violent volcanic outbreaks occurred last spring; let us hasten to the scene and see what new ruin is being piled upon the old. Upon emerging from a valley which runs through the hills of Myvatn, a line of some twenty columns of smoke proclaims the seat of volcanic activity; from the north end of these a conical mound, about 150 feet in height, is erupting with considerable violence, and is rapidly forming a cone within a large crater which had evidently been formed by a previous eruption; a column of cinders is being shot to twice the height of the volcano itself, and a copious lava-stream is flowing from a breach in its most northern side and from a smaller opening at the base of the

cone.

The wind is freshening from the west, from which quarter it has fortunately been blowing all day, thus enabling us to gain a neck of land now almost encircled with lava. Within a few hundred yards of the volcano itself showers of fine cinders are falling despite the adverse wind. Fountains of volcanic fire spring with loud explosions from the grim jaws of the volcano,

falling in torrents of molten sparks and fiery masses upon its glowing lips and blackened sides.

And now casting a retrospective glance at the long weary road from Nupstad to Grimstadir, which we have been the first to tread since the island of Iceland rose above the waters of the North Atlantic, what do we find? We find that the Vatna Jökull is a mass of ice and snow resting upon a nest of volcanoes; that its glaciers are rapidly increasing; that it is encroaching both upon the north and upon the south; and, granting that the Vatna is a fair specimen of the Icelandic Jökulls, that nothing can save Iceland from the advancing glaciers but a cycle of propitious seasons. We begin to recognise what an important effect this huge refrigerator has upon the climate of the north of Iceland; how it shields the northernland from the aqueous vapours which travel upward from more southern latitudes, receiving upon its broad shoulders an inordinate amount of hail and snow. We find the Odáda-hraun and the country immediately to the north of the Vatna to be a wilderness wherein the seismic forces of Iceland are still keeping up their erratic character by breaking out where least expected. First they break forth amid the snows of the Vatna, then amongst mountains which for ages had smothered their volcanic energies, then in the middle of a plain already rendered almost desolate by prehistoric outbursts. This eccentric shifting of volcanic force in Iceland may perhaps be due to the many cracks and fissures which doubtless already exist in the superficial rocks occasioned by the violent earthquakes which have from time to time convulsed the island.

II.—On Mr. H. M. Stanley's Exploration of the Victoria Nyanza. By Lieut.-Colonel J. A. GRANT, C.B., C.S.I.

[Read, November 29th, 1875.]

THE journey recently made by Mr. H. M. Stanley, the commissioner of the 'Daily Telegraph' and 'New York Herald,' is one of the most important and brilliant that has ever been made in Central Africa, or, indeed, in any other country. For, when we consider that he accomplished it so quickly, taking only nine months from the time he left England, it seems. at first as incredible as was his famous discovery of the late Dr. Livingstone. It is not alone the short time, but the great geographical question which he has finally settled-namely, he has confirmed Speke's discovery, that the Victoria Nyanza was