Littell's Living Age/Volume 126/Issue 1623/Miscellany
The first spring boat from Iceland to Copenhagen brings news of a volcanic outbreak in that island for which the recent ash-storms in Norway had prepared the minds of men of science. It will be remembered that an eruption of the Vatnajökul took place in the winter of 1872-73, and that it was supposed to have taken place at a point on the northern side of that vast region. That outbreak was not of great importance, and since then Mr. Watts has made an attempt to reach the volcano from the south side of the Vatnajökul, but in vain. Towards the end of last December, a trembling of the earth began to be felt in the north and east of the island, accompanied by loud rumblings, and at last from Myvatnssveit, the nearest hamlet to the Vatnajökul, a great glare began to be seen in the south, which appeared, however, to be emitted by a different crater from that in activity in 1867 and 1872. This eruption is believed to have commenced a week before Christmas, and to have ceased towards the end of February; but about the same time as the first ceased, a new volcano burst out on a table-land lying east of Myvatn, and several days' journey from the Vatnajökul crater. In the village of Myvatn the eminent politician, Jon Sigurdsson, lives, and, owing to his energetic efforts, the mild weather was used in exploring both volcanoes from that point. It was discovered that the first-mentioned volcano was not in the Vatnajökul at all, but in the Djungjufjeld, and that it is an entirely new crater. The only accurate information yet received is contained in two letters from Jon Sigurdsson to Nordanfari, and one from an anonymous correspondent to Isafold. The latter announces that on February 16 the expedition reached the eastern edge of the Djungjufjeld. The explorers climbed a ridge from which they were able to look down upon the new volcano, which is on the south-east side of the mountain, and which is merely an opening on a flat table-land. It had formed no new lava around it, except just a lava-ring round the aperture of the crater, which appeared to be about one hundred feet in diameter. About 180 feet west of the crater, a sinking of the terrain in shape of a horse-shoe had been formed. At the southern edge of this sinking was another little crater, which vomited even more rapidly than the first, though not so powerfully; from this a little stream of lava was flowing towards the south-west, side by side with a stream of pure water, which by-and-by left it, and, flowing between the rocks on the north-west side, formed a lake there. Ash-storms continue to fall all over the eastern part of the interior of the island, and it is feared that they may seriously injure the pasture-lands. .
Academy.
The Secretary-bird and Snakes. — Many and various are the names applied to this extraordinary bird, by the natives of the different countries in which it is common. By some it is known as the "devil's steed," by others as the "bird of fate." We must own that to us these fanciful appellations are quite unintelligible, nor has any Eastern tale that we have ever read thrown a light upon their origin; nevertheless our unpoetical imagination at once recognizes the appropriateness of its nickname of the "secretary," as the crest upon its head, when laid back, looks most comically like the quill pens which clerks or secretaries used sometimes to put behind their ears. Its common name is crane-vulture, while it is known to men of science as the Gypogeranus serpentarius. The crane-vulture inhabits Africa, from the Cape to 15°
north latitude, and from the Red Sea to Senegal; it is also occasionally seen on the Phillipine Islands. One species is also met with in Northern Africa. Snakes of all kinds are the objects of constant attack by these birds. When a serpent sees one of these dreaded enemies approaching, it will rear itself and swell and hiss in rage and fear; but the bird will spread his wings, forming with one of them a buckler in front of him, and when the reptile makes a spring at him the bird will bound about, always presenting that hard, well-protected wing; and while the serpent is vainly spending its poison on the thick bunch of feathers, the foe is inflicting heavy blows on the defenceless head with his other wing, until, stunned and faint, the venomous creature rolls on the ground; the bird then catches it and throws and dashes it about, finally killing it with its sharp bill. Then he swallows his victim with great relish, being in no way affected by the poison it contains.