Not long since, we mentioned a certain fact which must be thought exceedingly strange elsewhere, as it runs wholly counter to the order which holds good in most places with respect to the change from night to day, namely, that here the sun shines as bright and fair and with as much warmth by night as by day through a large part of the summer.
In our own country, in Möre, there is a bog called the Bjarkudal bog, which must also seem wonderful: for every sort of wood that is thrown into it and left there three winters loses its nature as wood and turns into stone.[176] If it is thrown upon the fire, it will glow like stone, though before it would have burned like wood. I have seen and handled many such stones of which the half that rose above the mire was wooden, while the part submerged in the bog was wholly petrified. Now we must call that a marvel, for the bog is located in a forest which is heavily wooded with young trees of all sorts; and these are not injured so long as they are green and growing, but as soon as one is hewn down and, having begun to decay, is thrown into the bog, it turns into stone.
The “Birchdale” bog seems to be a myth; but that stories of such a marvel were current is evident from a statement by Giraldus Cambrensis, who has heard that there was such a bog in Norway. _Opera_, V, 86. Möre is an old Norwegian shire lying to the west of Trondhjem along the coast.
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_Son._ I am familiar with all these things since they are found in our own country, and I have seen them all. But I have no knowledge of all those other marvels which are to be found in Iceland, Greenland, and Ireland, and in the seas about those lands, for of those things I have heard rumors only.
_Father._ Those lands, if we are to speak more fully about them, differ much in character and are not all of the same appearance. For the wonders of Iceland and Greenland consist in great frost and boundless ice, or in unusual display of flame and fire, or in large fishes and other sea monsters. And these countries are everywhere barren and unfruitful and consequently almost unfit for habitation. But Ireland comes near being the best land that is known to man, though the grape vine does not grow there.[177] And there are many marvels in Ireland, some of which are of such a character that this country may be called holier than all others.