_Krafla_ is not dead, merely sleeping. In the past centuries it has wrought great havoc. The eruption of May 17, 1724, was so violent that the ashes and pumice on the eastern shore of _Mývatn_ were deposited to a depth of over three feet. The connection between _Krafla_ and _Leirnúkr_ is close, in reality they are one volcano with different craters. _Leirnúkr_ had a violent eruption in 1725, to which reference was made in the preceding chapter, and during the following four years there were three more eruptions that did great damage.
The extended view from _Krafla_ is desolate and dreary in the extreme. When the eye ranges beyond the smoking slopes of mighty _Krafla_ it meets the greatest lava desolation in the north of Iceland. In the distance flashes of the _Jökulsá_, Ice-Mountain-River, are seen as it labors through the twisted lava to plunge into the abyss of the _Dettifoss_. The southern view commands the low volcanoes surrounding _Mývatn_. To the left rises the obsidian mountain and at our very feet ascend the roaring columns out of _Víti_ to their dissipation in the upper air.
Descending to our ponies we decided to traverse the unexplored portion of the mountain by a spiral route. We soon became entangled in an intricate mesh of deep, soft gullies. The great depth of these gullies, the ridges of dry ashes that surmounted them, the steep, viscid slopes and the beds filled with running water hot and odorous, wherein a peculiar alga thrives, and the intervening reaches of slumpy snow afforded us two hours of very laborious work. Cautiously we proceeded, leading the ponies, searching for places to descend the slopes and then working much harder to get out of the ravine, only to find it necessary to repeat the performance many times. The trusting beasts followed our ignominious slides into the gulches and after much coaxing managed to scramble up after us into the dry ashes at the top. We photographed these gullies, descended to the sheep trail and after three and one half hours of hard riding returned to our comfortable quarters at _Reykjalíð_ farm, where we did ample justice to the supper which the farmer’s daughter had prepared for us. On the menu was an excellent item that was new to us, a sweet purple soup.