CHAPTER X.
THE GEYSERS.
We had been told at Reykjavik it was necessary to carry tents, as there was no accommodation for travellers at the Geysers, but on arriving the wind was so strong that there was considerable difficulty in pitching them, and while our guides and gentlemen friends were making the attempt, we ladies tied up some tea in a muslin bag, and put it into a kettle, which we filled at the nearest hot spring. In a very few minutes it was infused, and with thick cream procured from the neighbouring farm, we enjoyed it much after our long dusty ride.
Just as the tent had been, as my brother thought, securely fixed, and while Vaughan and Mr Gordon were inside arranging the rugs and pack-boxes as seats, unfortunately a fresh gust of wind brought the whole affair down, burying them under the ruin. Our guides hastened to the rescue, and, more experienced in the weather forecasts than they were, advised their waiting till the wind had subsided before attempting to put up the tent again. To take our tea sitting on the pack-boxes was all we could do, encouraging each other to patience. We dare not open our boxes of eatables till the storm[p. 122] had subsided, or at least until we had some shelter to protect them from a deposit of dust.
After tea we proceeded to make our inspection of the Geysers. Our first need was, however, to wash our hands and faces, so, armed with towels, sponges, and soap, we knelt at the brink of the nearest pool, and stooping down performed our ablutions, with our faces towards the east, our persons being reflected in the clear green water. We could but liken ourselves to Mahommedans, when they turn their faces towards Kibla, at Mecca, or Parsees when they kneel facing the sun, which is considered by them a representative of God.
The immediate neighbourhood of the Geysers is not pretty; hills rise on one side, but otherwise they lie in a plain, which, when we saw it on our first arrival, was so thickly covered with sand from the storm that we could hardly discern any separate object. We hastened to examine the great Geyser. Alas! it did not, and would not play; it had done so two days previously, and we were told it was expected to renew the exploit, but, to our great mortification, it failed to do so during our visit. One of the peculiarities of this natural phenomenon is that sometimes at intervals of only a few hours it will eject columns of boiling water to the height of 100 feet, at others it will remain silent for days together. In 1770 it is recorded that this Geyser spouted eleven times in one day. Disappointed at losing the sight we had come so far to see, we turned our attention to the 'Stroker,' which is situated about[p. 123] 90 feet from its bigger neighbour. This also seemed in a quiescent state, but as the 'Stroker' can always be made to play by filling up the opening with earth sods, until there is no hole for the steam to escape, and it vomits the whole mass with a gigantic spout, we requested our guides to arrange for this artificial display. The emetic was consequently administered. 'Stroker' was evidently sulky, for the process had to be gone through no less than four times, whilst we waited the result in patience for at least two hours; but the display was all the better when it came.
I said we waited in patience, which was hardly true, as we were all on the tiptoe of excitement. Continual false alarms, and we all rushed to the 'Stroker's' side, only to be again disappointed, so we unpacked our goods, and made preparations for our evening meal, examining the Great Geyser and the hot springs meanwhile, grumbled at the smell of sulphur, and nearly despaired of the eruption ever taking place, when a sudden start from our guides, who were standing on the edge of the crater, and a shriek from them, 'He comes!' and a huge column of water ascended straight into the air for about 60 feet, the spray being ejected to a considerable distance. The eruption was accompanied by a rumbling noise and a hissing sound, as the shafts of water ascended.