Although at this place I observed more direct evidence of some great internal fire or subterranean laboratory, in which Nature is ever transforming the elemental forms of crude matter into available materials for the supply of organic life; still throughout Oregon and California I have constantly come across similar sulphurous and saline eruptions, particularly soda-water springs, where the water rises through the earth, thoroughly impregnated with carbonic-acid gas. At Napa, not far from San Francisco, native soda-water is collected and bottled at the springs for the supply of the San Francisco market. Olympian nectar was never more grateful to the thirsty gods, than is this soda-water to the hot, parched, and thirsty hunter!
The Doctor had many strange and wild theories about these springs, and evidently entertained a lively belief in their close proximity to his Satanic Majesty’s kitchen.
‘Cap’en,’ said the doctor, ‘I calkilate you ain’t a-goin’ home without just tryin’ a bath?’
I at first declined. I did not feel at all ill, and as I bathed every day grudged the trouble of undressing. It was of no use—the Major joined the Doctor; persuasion failing, mild force was hinted at if I did not comply. I was led, or rather hustled, into the bathing-house. In one corner of this dismal-looking shed was an immense square tray, and over it was a most suspicious-looking contrivance, like the rose of a giant’s watering-pot. I shuddered, for I knew I should be held in that tray, and deluged from the terrible nozzle.
My miseries commenced by my being seized on by two brawny attendants (the bathers), and literally peeled like an onion, rather than undressed. This completed, a small door that I had not noticed before was opened, and disclosed a kind of cupboard, about six feet square. A flap of board was raised by an attendant, and supported by a bracket; a contrivance one frequently sees in small kitchens to economise room. On this I was laid; my janitors withdrew, the door slammed, and I was alone in the dark.
A sudden noise, between a hiss and a whistle, enlightened me as to the fact, that sundry jets of steam were turned on. The room rapidly filled, and the perspiration soon streamed from my skin. At first I fancied it rather pleasant; a sort of lazy sleepy feeling came over me, but as this passed away I felt faint and thirsty, and yelled to be let out. No reply. I began to think it anything but a joke, and again shouted: not a sound but the hissing steam.
My thirst grew insupportable; it seemed as if a live crab was gnawing and rending my stomach with his claws and nippers. I made several attempts to get off the table, but wherever I put my leg the burning-hot steam came like a flame against it, and there was not sufficient room to stand betwixt the table and the partition of my steam-prison. I called louder and louder; my reasoning powers were growing feeble, my presence of mind was rapidly abandoning me, and a thousand wild fancies passed through my brain; I had given up all hope, when I saw a gleam of light. I have a vague remembrance of being dragged out, plunged into cold water, and savagely rubbed with a kind of hempen rasp.
As I became quite conscious of what was going on, I was partly dressed, and lying on the grass, the Doctor and the Major standing close by, the bathers rubbing my hands and feet; whilst Aunty, squatted on a log, was holding a cup containing some steaming mixture.
‘O Doctor!’ I said, as well as I could articulate, ‘a little more, and you would have had to bury me; I was nearly gone!’
‘Waal, Cap’en, I kind of guess you must have had a near shave for life, but it warn’t meant nohow. You see the Major and me just strolled up to take a peep at the mustangs, and the darned brutes stampeded, breaking clean out of the “corral,” and went past the bath-house like mad. The boys see ’em, and hearin’ us a-hollerin’, made tracks right after ’em, and never thought about your bein’ a-steamin’. Old Aunty, by sheer luck, heard you a-screamin’ and a-snortin’, and it mighty nigh skeert the old woman to death, for she thought “Old Hoof” was a-bilin’ himself. Up she came a-tearin’ and a-shriekin’ that somethin’ unearthly was in the steamroom. “Thunder and grizzlys,” says the Major, “the boys have forgot the Cap’en, and gone right after the mustangs!” You’d better believe we soon had you out, and you ain’t none the worse for it, thank Providence!’