the days of my life-第35部分

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n；　but　on　them　hung　priceless　tapestries　and　pictures　by　Rosetti　and　others。　I　remember　that　when　I　departed　I　rather　wished　that　Fate　had　made　me　a　Socialist　also。
Mr。　Morris；　who　had　visited　Iceland　many　years　before；　kindly　gave　me　some　letters　of　introduction；　and　as　a　result　of　one　of　these　we　engaged　a　certain　Thorgrimmer　Gudmunson　as　a　guide。　In　winter　time　Mr。　Gudmunson　was　a　schoolmaster；　but　in　summer　he　escorted　travellers　about　the　island；　and　did　so　very　satisfactorily。　Two　days　later　Gudmunson　appeared　with　a　cortege　of　thin；　shaggy　ponies；　which　were　to　carry　us　and　our　belongings。　Here　I　e　letter；　written　in　pencil；　from　Thingvellir。
We　rode　about　ten　hours　to　get　here；　over　such　a　country；　desolate；　dreary；　set　round　with　mountains　flecked　with　snow。　At　last；　about　ten　o’clock　at　night；　we　came　to　Thingvellir　Lake；　and　then　passed　down　All　Man’s　Drift　to　this　most　historic　spot。　I　only　wish　you　were　familiar　with　the　Njal　Saga；　for　then　you　would　understand　the　interest；　the　more　than　interest；　with　which　I　look　upon　it。　Every　sod；　every　rock；　every　square　foot　of　Axe　River；　is　eloquent　of　the　deeds　and　deaths　of　great　men。　Where　are　they　all　now？　The　raven　croaks　over　where　they　were；　the　whimbrel’s　wild　note　echoes　against　the　mountains；　and　that　is　the　only　answer　given。
We　have　slept　in　a　couple　of　rooms　attached　to　the　Parsonage。　Our　bedroom　window　opens　on　to　the　Three　Man’s　Graveyard。　They　still　bury　in　it。　To…night　we　are　going　to　sleep　in　a　church；　and　beastly　cold　it　will　be　I　expect。　This　is　an　interesting　but　God…forgotten　country。　How　the　dickens　its　inhabitants　keep　life　and　soul　together　is　a　mystery　to　me；　for　there　is　scarcely　anything　to　eat　in　it　and　their　houses　are　the　merest　wooden　shanties；　ill…fitted　to　keep　out　the　cold；　which　even　now　is　intense　at　night。　We　hope　to　get　back　to　Rejkjavik　in　about　eleven　days；　having　visited　Hecla；　the　Geysers；　Njal’s　country；　etc。　Then　we　are　going　to　a　farm　where　we　have　taken　some　salmon　fishing　for　three　weeks。　We　hope　to　return　by　the　boat　leaving　the　3rd　of　August；　so　if　all　goes　well　I　count　to　be　home　about　the　10th。
Here　is　a　brief　description　from　my　diary　of　the　Golden　Falls；　which　served　me　as　a　model　for　those　down　which　Eric　es　in　my　saga。
Reached　Golden　Falls　at　12：30。　A　most　splendid　sight。　The　yellow　river；　after　tumbling　down　a　cliff；　bends　a　little　to　the　right　and　leaps　in　two　mighty　waterfalls；　across　which　a　rainbow　streams；　into　a　chasm　a　hundred　feet　deep；　leaving　a　bare　space　of　cliff　between。　From　the　deep　of　this　chasm　the　spray　boils　up　like　steam；　a　glorious　thing　to　see　。　。　。　。　Passed　Three　Corner　Ridge　where　Gunnar　was　attacked；　and　suddenly　came　on　a　very　fine　view　of　the　Njal　country；　a　flat　and　fertile　expanse　of　land　stretching　away　as　far　as　the　eye　can　reach。　Nothing　to　eat　since　breakfast。　Spent　fortable　night　at　the　priest’s　house。　Had　arctic　tern’s　eggs　and　“skier”　for　breakfast。　Then　sent　pack　ponies　to　Bergthors　Knoll　and　rode　to　Lithend。　I　am　writing　this　on　the　site　of　Gunnar’s　hall；　which　I　can　distinctly　trace。　The　hall　looked　out　over　the　great　Markallflajot　plain；　now　nothing　but　a　waste　eaten　up　of　the　waters。　To　the　north　is　a　large　glacier…mountain　—　the　hall　was　built　on　the　side　of　a　hill　—　and　to　the　left　of　the　house　is　the　fissure　into　which　the　dog　Sam　was　decoyed　and　killed。　The　lark　now　sings　over　where　Gunnar　fought　and　fell；　betrayed　by　Hallgerda。
7　P。M。：　Bergthorsknoll。　Arrived　here　after　a　long　ride　over　a　desolate　grassy　flat。　The　site　of　Njal’s　hall　is　now　for　the　most　part　covered　with　hovels。　It　faces　sou’west；　partly　on　to　the　plain　and　partly　on　to　a　river。　To　the　left　of　the　house　is　the　hollow　where　the　burners　tied　up　their　horses　as　described　in　the　saga。　In　front　appears　the　fierce　outline　of　the　Westman　Islands。
29th：　Dug　last　night　and　found　various　relics　of　the　burning。　The　floor　of　the　hall　seems　to　have　been　sprinkled　with　black　sand　（see　the　saga）；　but　we　had　not　the　luck　of　the　American　who；　when　he　dug；　discovered　a　gold　ring。
On　the　whole　we　enjoyed　our　fishing　very　much；　and　I　killed　a　good　number　of　salmon；　though；　because　of　the　drought；　not　so　many　as　I　ought　to　have　done。　Also　there　were　multitudes　of　trout。　The　trout　stream　ran　out　of　a　gloomy　lake　surrounded　by　high　mountains。　The　Icelanders　vowed　that　there　were　no　trout　in　this　lake。　However　we　procured　an　old　boat　so　leaky　that　we　could　only　row　a　little　way　from　land　and　back　again　before　she　filled。　Ross；　who　had　been　an　oar　at　College；　rowed；　while　I　managed　the　two　trolling　rods。　Before　we　had　gone　a　few　yards　they　were　both　of　them　bent　almost　double。　Never　before　or　since　did　I　have　such　fishing。　To　what　size　the　trout　ran　in　that　lake　I　had　no　idea；　for　the　biggest　ones　invariably　tore　the　hooks　off　the　Phantoms　and　brass　“devils；”　or　smashed　the　tackle；　but　we　caught　many　up　to　about　four　pounds　in　weight。　Indeed；　the　sport　was　so　easy　that　one　grew　weary　of　it。　Very　charming　it　was　also　to　stand　alone　in　the　blue　light　at　midnight　by　the　banks；　or　in　the　water　of　the　wide　and　brawling　salmon　river；　casting　for　and　sometimes　hooking　the　king　of　fish。　Never　shall　I　forget　the　impression　it　produced　upon　me。　The　mighty　black　mountains；　the　solitude；　the　song　of　the　river；　and　the　whistling　flight　of　the　wild　duck　—　by　which　the　silence　alone　was　broken　—　and；　over　all；　that　low　unearthly　light　just　strong　enough　to　show　my　fly　upon　the　water　and　the　boiling　rises　of　the　salmon。　It　is　an　experience　which　I　am　glad　to　have　known。
At　Rejkjavik；　for　some　reason　that　I　have　forgotten；　we　caught　not　the　Danish　mail　steamer　as　we　had　expected；　but　our　old　friend　the　Copeland；　now　laden　with　hundreds　of　ponies；　among　them　that　named　Hecla；　which　I　had　bought　near　the　volcano；　and　I　think　another　which　I　had　also　bought。　We　went　aboard　the　night　of　the　19th　with　General　Bevan…Edwards　and　some　other　passengers；　and　I　recall　observing　with　some　anxiety　the　ship’s　agent　as　he　rowed　round　the　bows　of　the　vessel；　apparently　inspecting　her　draught　—　also　with　some　anxiety。
I　imagine　that　she　had　too　many　ponies　in　her　holds。　However；　off　we　steamed；　and　soon　the　coast　of　Iceland　vanished　behind　us。　It　is　a　country　to　which　I　was　very　sorry　to　bid　farewell；　though　I　think　one　only　to　be　appreciated　（if　we　leave　fishermen　out　of　the　question）　by　those　who　have　made　a　study　of　the　sagas。　I　know　not　what　may　now　be　the　case；　but　at　that　time　these　were　few　indeed。　I　believe　that　the　enterprising　American　who　found；　or　was　said　to　have　found；　a　gold　ring　amid　the　ashes　of　Njal’s　hall；　was　the　only　foreigner　who　had　journeyed　to　that　spot　for　some　years　before　my　visit。　I　wonder　how　many　have　been　there　since　that　time；　and　whether　proper　precautions　are　taken　today　in　order　to　preserve　these　most　interesting　historical　relics　of　an　unique　and　bygone　age。
This　is　not　the　place　to　enter　into　the　subject；　so　I　will　only　say　that　outside　of　the　Bible　and　Homer　there　exists；　perhaps；　no　literature　more　truly　interesting　than　that　of　the　Icelandic　sagas。　Also　they　have　this　merit：　in　the　main　they　are　records　of　actual　facts。　Holding　them　in　hand　I　have　examined　the　places　that　they　describe；　and　therefore　to　this　I　can　testify。　Those　men　and　women　lived；　they　did　the　things　that　are　recorded；　or　most　of　them；　and　for　the　reasons　that　remain　to　us。　Of　course　certain　circumstances　have　been　added；　namely　those　which　deal　with　the　supernatural。
The　entries　in　my　diary　for　the　first　five　days　of　that　disastrous　voyage　are　brief　and　emphatic。
20th：　At　sea。　Bad　weather。　21st：　Gale。　22nd：　Worse　gale。　23rd：　Worse　gale　still。　Lay　to。　24th：　Tried　to　go　about　four　o’clock。　Strained　the　ship　so　much　that　we　had　to　lay　to　again。
Indeed；　with　a　single　exception；　that　of　a　voyage　I　made　many　years　later　in　the　P。　&　O。　Macedonia；　the　weather　was　the　most　terrible　that　I　have　ever　experienced　at　sea。　Moreover；　in　our　small　vessel　there　is　no　doubt　that　we　were　in　some　peril　of　foundering。　The　terrific　seas　swept　her　continually；　and；　in　order　to　keep　the　hundreds　of　ponies　alive。　it　was　necessary　that　the　hatches　should　remain　open；　since　otherwise　they　would　have　been　stifled。　Had　any　accident　occurred　to　bring　the　ship　broadside　on；　such　as　the　breaking　of　the　steering　gear；　it　would　seem　that　we　must　have　filled　and　sunk　at　once。　As　it　was　we　were　greatly　knocked　about；　and　a　good　many　of　the　poor　ponies　died　from　the　cold　of　the　water　that　washed　over　them。
At　last　the　weather　moderated；　and　about　ten　A。M。　on　the　25th　we　arrived　off　Thurso　in　a　dead　calm。　Here　we　should　have　stayed　because　of　the　fog；　but　this　the　captain　could　not　do；　as　owing　to　the　prolongation　of　the　voyage　the　ponies　were　starving。　So　he　took　the　risk　and　pushed　on。　About　11：30　I　was　on　deck；　when　suddenly　the　dense　mist　seemed　to　roll　up　in　front　of　us；　like　the　drop…scene　at　a　theatre；　and　there　appeared　immediately　ahead　black　cliffs　and　all　about　us　rocks　on　which　the　breakers　broke　and　the　water　boiled；　as　it　can　do　after　a　great　gale　in　the　Pentland　Firth　when　the　tide　is　running　I　know　not　how　many　knots　an　hour。　There　was　a　cry：　the　engines　were　reversed；　but　the　current　and　that　terrible　tide　caught　the　Copeland　and　dragged　her　forward。　Then　came　the　sickening　sensation　that　will　be　familiar　to　anyone　who　has　been　aboard　a　vessel　when　she　struck　upon　rocks。　Scrape；　quiver！　—　scrape；　quiver！　and　we　were　fast。　Or　rather　our　forepart　was　fast；　for　the　stern　still　floated　in　deep　water。
Almost　immediately　the　firemen　rushed　up　from　the　engine…room；　which　had　begun　to　flood；　though　I　suppose　that　the　water　did　not　reach　the　boilers　at　first　or　they　would　have　exploded。
Orders　were　given　to　get　out　the　boats；　and　it　was　attempted　with　the　strangest　results。　My　belief　is　that　those　boats　had　never　been　in　the　water　since　the　day　the　ship　was　built。　Some　of　them　went　down　by　the　stern　with　their　bows　hanging　in　the　air；　some　of　them　went　down　by　the　bows　with　their　stern　hanging　in　the　air；　or　would　not　move。　Also　in　certain　instances　the　plugs　could　not　be　found。　Not　one　of　them　was　got　into　the　water：　at　any　rate　at　that　time。
Understanding　that　the　position　was　serious　I　went　to　my　cabin；　packed　what　things　I　could；　then　called　the　steward　and　made　him　bring　me　a　bottle　of　beer；　as　I　did　not　know　when　I　should　get　another。　He；　such　is　the　force　of　habit；　wanted　me　to　sign　a　chit　for　the　same；　but　I　declined。　Whilst　I　was　drinking　the　beer　I　felt　the　vessel　slip　back　several　feet；　it　was　a　most　unpleasant　sensation；　one　moreover　that　suggested　to　me　that　I　might　be　better　on　deck。　Thither　I　went；　to　find　my　fellow　passengers　gathered　in　an　anxious　group　staring　at　each　other。　Presently　I　observed　a　large　boat　appear　from　the　island　and　lie　to　at　a　good　distance　from　the　ship；　which　she　did　not　seem　to　dare　to　approach　because　of　the　surrounding　rocks。
We　consulted。　It　was　evident　that　we　should　never　get　off　in　our　own　boats；　so　this　one　from　the　island　seemed　our　only　chance。　I　went　to　the　captain　on　the　bridge　and　asked　if　we　might　hail　it。
“Aye；　Mr。　Haggard；”　answered　the　distracted　man；　“do　anything　you　can　to　save　your　lives。”
Then　I　understood　how　imminent　was　our　peril。　I　returned　and　hailed。
“Can　you　take　us　off？”
My　voice　being　very　powerful　I　managed　to　make　the　boatmen　hear　me。　They　shouted　back　that　they　dared　not　approach　the　ship。
“Have　a　try；”　I　suggested；　and　in　the　end　those　brave　fellows　did　try　and　succeeded；　knowing　the　tide　and　the　current　and　where　each　rock　was　hidden　beneath　the　surface。　They　got　aboard　us；　somewhere　forward；　or　one　of　them　did。　Presently　he　came　running　aft；　a　big　blue…eyed　man　whose　great　beard　seemed　to　bristle　with　terror。
“For　God’s　sake　get　out　of　this；”　he　roared　in　his　strange　dialect；　“ye’ve　five　feet　of　water　in　your　hold　and　sixty　fathom　under　your　stern！　Ye’ll　slip　off　the　rock　and　sink！”
We　did　not　need　a　second　invitation；　but　when　we　were　all；　or　almost　all　of　us　in　the　boat；　it　was　suddenly　remembered　that　an　Icelandic　woman　occupied　one　of　the　cabins。　She　had　entered　that　cabin　at　Rejkjavik；　and　never　having　been　seen　since；　was　not　unnaturally　overlooked。　Well；　she　was　fetched；　and　came　quite　posed　and　smiling　down　the　ladder。　The　poor　soul　was　not　in　the　least　aware　that　anything　out　of　the　way　had　happened　and　imagined　that　this　was　the　proper　way　to　leave　the　ship。
Then　came　another　anxious　time；　for　the　question　was　whether　we　could　avoid　a　certain　rock　over　which　the　surf　was　boiling。　Providentially　those　skilled　men　did　avoid　it；　and　soon　we　stood　upon　the　rocky　shores　of　Stroma；　which　personally　I　thought　a　very　pleasant　place。　Had　we　overset　there　was　no　chance　that　we　could　have　lived　a　minute　in　that　racing；　seething　tide。
By　this　time　people　on　the　island　had　seen　what　was　happening　and　were　running　towards　us。　The　first　to　arrive　was　a　gentleman　in　a　rusty　black　coat　and　a　tall　hat；　a　schoolmaster　I　believe。　Somehow　he　had　learned　my　identity；　or　perhaps　he　recognised　me　from　a　photograph。　At　any　rate　he　came　up；　bowed　politely；　took　off　the　tall　hat　with　a　flourish；　and　said；　in　the　best　Scotch；　“The　author　of　‘She’　I　believe？　I　am　verra　glad　to　meet　you。”
For　eight　or　ten　hours　we　sat　upon　that　rock。　The　tide　which　was　high　or　ebbing　when　we　struck　went　down；　the　Copeland　broke　her　back；　of　a　sudden　under　the　fearful　strain　of　her　wire　rigging　her　mast　turned　grey　because　of　the　splinters　driven　outward　by　the　pressure。　Rescuers　got　aboard　of　her　and　saved　many　of　the　ponies；　though　many　more　were　drowned；　including　poor　Hecla；　which　I　had　bought　upon　the　slopes　of　that　volcano。　Others　were　thrown　or　swam　out　of　the　hold　and　maimed。　One　of　the　saddest　things　I　remember　in　connection　with　this　shipwreck　was　the　sight　of　a　poor　animal　with　a　swinging　leg；　standing　upon　a　point　of　rock　until　the　tide　rose　and　drowned　it。　Many　of　these　ponies　swam　ashore　—　being　Icelanders　they　were　accustomed　to　the　water　—　and　probably　they；　or　rather　their　descendants；　now　populate　the　Orkneys。　What　would　have　happened　to　us　if　our　cargo　on　this　occasion　had　been　emigrants　instead　of　ponies　I　cannot　say。　Doubtless　there　must　have　been　a　terrible　panic　and　much　loss　of　life。　As　it　was　our　escape　may　be　accounted　a　marvel。　A　peak　of　rock　perated　our　bottom　and　by　that　peak　we　hung；　as　the　fisherman　had　said；　with　sixty　fathom　of　deep　water　under　our　stern。　When　I　was　drinking　the　beer；　and　felt　the　ship　slip；　it　was　just　a　question　whether　she　would　vanish　entirely　or　be　held。　In　fact；　she　was　held　owing　to　one　of　her　principals；　if　that　is　the　term；　catching　on　the　point　of　rock。
As　it　chanced　our　adventures　were　not　quite　finished。　Late　in　the　afternoon；　after　some　difficulty；　we　hired　a　boat　to　take　us　to　the　mainland。　By　this　time　the　tide　had　risen　again；　and　our　course　lay　under　the　stern　of　the　wrecked　Copeland。　Ross　was　steering　the　boat　since　no　one　else　was　available。　We　passed　under　the　steamer’s　stern　and　noticed　that　she　was　lifting　very　much　on　the　ining　tide。　Just　as　we　had　cleared　it　a　man　appeared　upon　the　deck；　screaming　to　be　taken　off。　We　discovered　afterwards　that　he　was　some　petty　officer　who　in　his　fear　had　broken　into　the　spirit　room　and　been　overwhelmed　with　drink。　A　swift　decision　must　be　taken。　It　was　not　expected　that　the　Copeland　would　hang　upon　he