"Yes, Herr Liedenbrock; the labours of MM. Olafsen and Povelsen,
pursued by order of the king, the researches of Troil the scientific
mission of MM. Gaimard and Robert on the French corvette LA
RECHERCHE, [1] and lately the observations of scientific men who
came in the REINE HORTENSE, have added materially to our knowledge
of Iceland. But I assure you there is plenty left."

"Do you think so?" said my uncle, pretending to look very modest, and
trying to hide the curiosity was flashing out of his eyes.

"Oh, yes; how many mountains, glaciers, and volcanoes there are to
study, which are as yet but imperfectly known! Then, without going
any further, that mountain in the horizon. That is Snaefell."

"Ah!" said my uncle, as coolly as he was able, "is that Snaefell?"

"Yes; one of the most curious volcanoes, and the crater of which has
scarcely ever been visited."

"Is it extinct?"

"Oh, yes; more than five hundred years."

"Well," replied my uncle, who was frantically locking his legs
together to keep himself from jumping up in the air, "that is where I
mean to begin my geological studies, there on that Seffel--Fessel--
what do you call it?"

"Snaefell," replied the excellent M. Fridrikssen.