The whole family stood at the door of the large tent to see them off, Nellie gaily waving her hand to them.
"Is there not some danger that they may fall into the boiling spring?" asked Aunt Mary, anxiously, as they passed out of sight.
Aunt Mary was the widow of Mr. Page's uncle. He could not help smiling, occasionally, at her causeless fears.
"I'm afraid you will not enjoy your trip unless you try to be less fearful of accidents," he said. "They are not going in the direction of the hot springs. However, they would not be injured if they did fall in. They could clamber out at once. You must come down with me after a while to see the springs."
"I think I shall wait until Martha is able to go," said Aunt Mary; "perhaps to-morrow. If the odor when one is near is any worse, or even as bad, as the whiffs we get of it here, I should not think people could either drink the water or bathe in it."
"One gets to like it after a while," said Mr. Page. "I have heard that after a sojourn here people can not bear to drink cold water for some time."
"I am already longing for a cool drink," said his wife.
"The children will not be gone very long, I think," rejoined her husband.
The trio were enjoying themselves very much at that moment. Francisco was hailed by several persons with the reminder that their water-barrels were almost empty, and to each demand he replied courteously that he would attend to it. Turning off from the road, they crossed the path which led to the pools, and were soon on a rough, uneven highway, stony and bleak. A few moments brought them to a sharp divide, which they skirted for some distance till they came to a place where the steep sides were worn away by wagon wheels. On the other side of this cañon everything was green and luxuriant, in remarkable contrast to the ground they had just left. A well-worn trail wound in and out among the trees, which grew closer together as they ascended the verdant slope. A tiny stream, seemingly not broader than a silver ribbon, trickled along to meet them.