On one of these occasions of our moving camp from one creek to the next we found that the distance between creeks was much greater than we had expected, and as a consequence the darkness overtook us before we could find a suitable camping-ground. Emerging at length from the woods upon a little grassy plateau which would serve our purpose, we quickly unpacked and turned loose the animals, which, having first enjoyed their preliminary roll, walked off according to custom to take a drink from the creek. To our surprise, they did not seem to like the water; they walked along the bank, tasting the stream in different places, and snorting in a dissatisfied manner. Going over to find out the reason, we discovered that the water was strongly impregnated with iron and sulphur. Presumably some mineral springs ran into it from up above somewhere. However, the horses presently came to the conclusion that they must drink there or go without, and having satisfied their thirst they wandered off and soon were comfortably cropping the grass.
Meanwhile we had lighted a fire, and having cooked and eaten our supper were thinking of going to bed, when the moon rose, and by its light we noticed for the first time that the ground not far removed from where we were was all covered with some white substance, presenting a very strange appearance in the midst of the black woods.
“What is that?” I asked, shading my eyes from the glare of the fire, and peering into the darkness. “It can’t be snow.”
“I should say it was egg-shells,” remarked Percy. “There’s an uncommonly strong smell of bad eggs about here.”
“I don’t think your egg-shell theory will pass, Percy,” said Jack, laughing; “the smell of bad eggs probably comes from some sulphur-springs in the neighbourhood. I expect that white stuff is deposit from the springs; though I never saw so much in one place before. Let us go down that way and have a look.”
We had advanced some distance along the gloomy alley of trees, Ulysses trotting behind, when Percy stopped, holding up his finger.
“Hark!” he exclaimed. “What is that sizzling noise?”
We stood still to listen. Sure enough there was a sizzling noise going on somewhere near; a noise like the frying of a beefsteak. We went poking forward in the dark with our noses near the ground, and presently Jack, who was on the left, said:
“It’s just here, whatever it is. Have you a match, Tom?”
I struck a match and held it low down where the sound came from. To my great surprise—for there was not a breath of air stirring—the match was instantly blown out. I struck another. The same thing happened.