Near the head of the valley, not very far removed from where we stood, was an extensive white mound, from which a puff of steam now and then issued as if in warning that something was going to happen. Walking over to this mound and ascending it by a series of natural steps, we peered cautiously down the hole at the top. It was like looking down a rough-walled well, coated with coloured plaster. There was a growling and a grumbling going on down below, and presently, puff! came a great ball of steam into our faces; we thought our eyebrows were gone. With admirable unanimity we jumped back and retreated to a more respectful distance.
Soon there was a great spasm, and a mass of hot water—tons of it—was jerked out of the crater. Percy and I, with one impulse, turned to fly, but Jack calling out, “It’s all right; it’s all right,” we stopped again; standing, however, all ready to run at the shortest notice.
This casting out of hot water was but the preliminary to a regular eruption. It was followed by volumes of steam which—like the “bolsters” of the night before—were blown away by the wind; next, a pillar of water about twenty feet high rose out of the orifice and sank down again; and then the strange monster seemed to take a deep breath, and a roaring column of water, five or six feet in diameter and a hundred and fifty feet high, as we judged, was ejected from the crater and stood erect, sometimes rising a little, sometimes falling a little, for ten minutes. Gradually it subsided, sank down, stopped. The exhibition was over.
None of us had said a word while this glorious display was in progress,—we were too full of wonder and admiration for speech,—nor did we, for a minute or two after it had ceased, break the silence. But then, Percy, suddenly stretching out his hands, relieved his mind by apostrophising our old enemy of Moseley’s school.
“Bates,” he exclaimed, “I forgive you! Bates, I’m much obliged to you! If it hadn’t been for you, Bates, my boy, I should never have seen this thing; and it’s worth—why, it’s worth a year in jail to have seen it.”
How we did chatter when once our tongues were loosened! We were as proud of having come upon this wonderful region as if we had discovered it ourselves.
It is a great temptation, and it would be very easy, to fill a chapter or two with descriptions of the marvels we saw in this truly astonishing country,—marvels at that time almost unknown to the world,—the many great geysers, and the thousands of hot springs of all sorts, sizes, and colours; but I refrain. It is enough to say that for a week we three proud and happy explorers went about in a state of chronic ecstasy and amazement; a state from which I, for one, expect never entirely to recover.
Much as we should have liked to prolong our stay, we remembered that ours was a business trip and not merely a sight-seeing excursion; we had qualms of conscience, too, when we recalled how long it was since we had been near a post-office; and accordingly, one morning, we packed up our belongings and reluctantly rode away from the enchanted valley.
We had gone but a short distance when we were startled by the sound of a jolly laugh issuing from the woods before us. With thoughts of Squeaky in our minds we cocked our rifles and stood waiting anxiously for whatever might turn up, when there rode into sight four horsemen, the leader of whom looked so very much more respectable than we did ourselves that our fears were at once allayed.
We expected the strangers to be as much surprised to see us as we were to see them, but, strangely enough, they were not surprised at all.