The Colorado Desert is a strange, weird region. Here is a vast basin at the head of the Gulf of California which was once a part of the gulf, but is now separated from it by the delta of the Colorado River. With the drying up of the water, the centre of the basin was left a salt marsh more than two hundred and fifty feet below the level of the ocean. In summer the air quivers under the blazing sun, and it seems as if no form of life could withstand the scorching heat, but in winter the atmosphere is cool and full of life-giving energy.
Around this desert rise the mountains, some old and nearly worn down, their tops barely rising out of the long slopes of sand and gravel; others rugged and steep, lifting their crests far above the burning desert into the cold, clear sky.
Curious forms of plants and animals find their homes upon the slopes about the basin, where they adapt themselves to the heat and dryness. But toward the centre the soil is bare clay, for when the water dried up so much alkali and salt were left that nothing could grow.
However we do not now intend to study the plants or the animals, interesting though they are, but rather a group of mud volcanoes, which forms almost the only relief in the monotony of the bare plain. These volcanoes are in no way related to real volcanoes except in shape, for water and mud, instead of fire and lava, have been concerned in their building.
FIG. 30.—MUD VOLCANOES, COLORADO DESERT
Once it required a long journey in wagons or upon horseback to reach the mud volcanoes, but now the railroad takes us within three miles of the spot. We alight from the train before a section house which stands in the midst of the great desert. Far, far away stretches the barren clay floor of the ancient lake. Here and there are scattered stunted shrubs, the only specimens of plant life which have been able to withstand the alkali in the clay.
Seen from the station, the volcanoes appear like dark specks almost upon the horizon, but in reality they are not far away, and an hour's brisk walk will bring us to them. The mud springs, which are scattered over an area of several hundred acres, present many strange and interesting features. There are holes in the earth with bubbling mud at the bottom, cones from the tops of which streams of muddy water issue, and ponds of mud, in some cases as thick as molasses, in others thin and watery. There are little jets of steam, strange odors, and a vista of many mingled colors. Taken altogether, it is a place quite different from any other that we have ever seen.
The ground is soft and marshy, and in some places undermined by the water, so that we have to take great care in walking about. Some of the smaller springs occupy round depressions, sometimes three or four feet across, which look as if they had been made by pressing a large pan down into the clay. The bubbling mud in the bottom of the pan, as well as the hot water in many of the springs, makes it easy to imagine that we are standing upon the top of a great cooking stove in which a hot fire is burning. As the gas with which the water is impregnated comes up through the mud, it forms huge bubbles which finally break and settle down, only to rise again. In this way concentric mud rings, perfect in form, are made to cover the entire surface of the pool.
Where there is little water, the surface of the mud hardens and leaves a small opening, through which the bubbling gas throws small columns of mud at regular intervals. From the large pools, some of which are forty to fifty feet in diameter, there comes a low murmuring sound like the boiling of many kettles. The water is sputtering and bubbling, and in some places it is hot enough to give off thin clouds of steam. Occasionally we get whiffs of sulphur, while about the borders of some of the ponds pretty crystals of this mineral can be found.