the trouble to rob the nest of this; the female therefore lays her
eggs in the spoils of her mate, the young are hatched, and next year
the harvest begins again.

Now, as the eider duck does not select steep cliffs for her nest, but
rather the smooth terraced rocks which slope to the sea, the
Icelandic hunter might exercise his calling without any inconvenient
exertion. He was a farmer who was not obliged either to sow or reap
his harvest, but merely to gather it in.

This grave, phlegmatic, and silent individual was called Hans Bjelke;
and he came recommended by M. Fridrikssen. He was our future guide.
His manners were a singular contrast with my uncle's.

Nevertheless, they soon came to understand each other. Neither looked
at the amount of the payment: the one was ready to accept whatever
was offered; the other was ready to give whatever was demanded. Never
was bargain more readily concluded.

The result of the treaty was, that Hans engaged on his part to
conduct us to the village of Stapi, on the south shore of the Snaefell
peninsula, at the very foot of the volcano. By land this would be
about twenty-two miles, to be done, said my uncle, in two days.

But when he learnt that the Danish mile was 24,000 feet long, he was
obliged to modify his calculations and allow seven or eight days for
the march.

Four horses were to be placed at our disposal--two to carry him and
me, two for the baggage. Hams, as was his custom, would go on foot.