It has not a regularly formed basin like the other, but is surrounded to
a considerable distance by a slight elevation, of light flinty grit and
laminae, with sundry depressions in it; all being deposited after the
manner already described. In the centre, through brown coloured sinter,
is a deep hole, like a well, six feet in diameter at the surface,
contracting as it descends and attaining a depth of nearly fifty feet.
On looking down, the water is seen, ten or twelve feet from the
surface—boiling hard, plop-plopping, roaring, choking, and rumbling
continually; in fact, as its name indicates, agitated and seething like
a churn. The edge, however, must be approached with great caution, as
eruptions occur without any warning; when jets of boiling water shoot up
to the height of sixty feet, or, when choked with turf to provoke an
eruption, to the height of 150 feet.
The Little Geyser, situated upwards of 300 feet south of Strokr,
presents a similar appearance, only it is on a smaller scale; the tube
is less than forty feet deep. The eruptions, occurring every half-hour
or so, were like playing fountains; but they only attained a height of
10 to 15 feet, and lasted about five minutes.
The chief non-erupting spring, Blesi—so called from its fancied
resemblance to white marks on a horse’s face—is situated say about 250
feet to the west of the Great Geyser, and a little higher up the hill.
It is a large irregular oval opening into a cavern full of clear hot
water, up to the same level as the ground. It is about 40 or 50 feet
long, 10 to 20 broad, and spanned across the centre, so as apparently to
form two separate oval pools, by a natural rock bridge. The top of this
bridge is only about a foot broad, and raised an inch or so above the
surface of the water, while the arch is quite under it. One can thus see
through the clear water from the one pool to the other, the same as if
this curious division were not there.
Standing with our backs to the hill, we observed that the south edge of
the spring was only a shelving ledge of silicious sinter, covering in or
roofing the water; and that, 3 or 4 feet further in, the side of the
cavern, dipping abruptly and continuing to cave into fathomless
darkness, with its whitish crags, precipices, and projecting ledges,
could be distinctly followed for 40 or 50 feet far down through the
clear pure scalding water which was perfectly still. It never boils; but
its gentle overflow winds southward along the slope, steaming all the
way. The blue tint of the transparent water near the side was
exquisitely delicate, and appeared to be caused by light, modified and
reflected somehow from the craggy sides, although they were whitish in
colour, while the crystalline water near the sides was actually as
bright as lapis-lazuli, shading magically into the most tender
sea-green. Gazing down on the subaqueous jags, the yawning fissure,
spite of its stillness and heat, suggested Schiller’s poem of the Diver,
and then again Hans Christian Andersen’s brilliant word picture of the
Blue grotto of Capri; combining, as it does, elements both of terror and
beauty. We were strangely fascinated by this spring, which although now
so tranquil only ceased to be an active erupting Geyser in A.D. 1784,
the year after the terrific eruption of Skaptár, when earthquakes
disturbed and wrought sundry changes on the Geyser ground, and,
according to Henderson, opened up thirty-five new springs.
The rest of the springs are situated chiefly on the lower or south-west
corner of the slope, and also at the foot of the hill, in the deep gully
at the back of the great Geyser. They are of various kinds and close
together; little pools of hot water level with the surface; others,
boiling hard, below it; dark holes with steam rising from them; others
where, though no water could be seen, it was heard seething below, and
felt to be boiling by the vibratory motion it communicated to the ground
on which we stood; others seemed caldrons of seething clay; while, in
many places around, when a stick was thrust 12 or 18 inches into the
ground and withdrawn, steam issued from the hole so made.
Nearly all these springs have an alkaline reaction, and give out more or
less sulphurated hydrogen. My thermometer, dipt in at the edge of the
great Geyser when at rest but full to the brim, indicated 178°, and the
temperature was pretty equal all round its basin. Blesi was hotter, and
on repeated trials stood at 196°.
While Zöga was busy pitching the tent, lent us by the Count Von Trampe,
on the narrow turf plat, about 30 or 40 yards south-west of the great
Geyser, we observed, besides the white vapour which always hovers over
it, bubbles rising from the surface of the water over the hole in the
centre of the saucer-shaped basin; then the water became troubled; a
stream of hissing steam rushed up with a noise resembling the whiz of a
rocket; we heard subterranean sounds like the rumbling of distant
thunder, broken in upon at intervals by the booming of artillery; a dome
of water, like a gigantic glass shade eight or ten feet high, then rose
and burst with a loud explosion, as if a submarine blast had just been
fired. We expected a grand eruption, but this time were disappointed;
for only one other bell, smaller than the first, rose and fell,
enveloped in dense clouds of steam slightly impregnated with sulphur;
the troubling of the water speedily subsided, low muffled sounds died
away, losing themselves in distant mutterings, and the Geyser pot boiled
over; but very quietly, as there was no fire outside to be put out by
the little rills of scalding water. These ran trickling down the sides
all round, but chiefly on the south-west where there are several slight
indentations in the lip of the basin, and where at the foot of the mound
the bed of a shallow streamlet has been formed which winds through the
gritty slope, conveying the Geyser’s overflow, steaming as it runs, down
to the river. This little rivulet spreads out broad and shallow, as it
flows over the gritty surface, being only, excepting after eruptions,
one or two inches deep, with many little islet-patches of verdure in it.
These islets are sometimes formed by a single tuft of butter-cups,
sea-pinks, wild-thyme, or parnassia; quietly blooming in freshness and
beauty in this strange habitat, cared for and cherished by the same
beneficent hand that controls the under-lying and central fires, with
all their marvellous and terrific phenomena.
Our attention was now called to the Little Geyser, which exhibited great
activity, shooting up several jets of water at the same time like a
fountain, while great volumes of steam rolled away from it to the
leeward. Its eruptions did not attain, as already stated, more than a
height of from ten to fifteen feet, and lasted only for about five
minutes; but they occurred every little while during our stay.
We sketched this singular region from various points of view; wonder
ever increasing, as we wandered about and discovered one marvel after
another. For, be it confessed, that on approaching the Geysers, utterly
fagged and weary, I felt all curiosity so blunted, that, for the first
fifteen minutes, I believe I would scarcely have risen from the turf on
which I sat to walk a mile, though it had been to see the earth split
open to its very centre; and, for the moment, serious thoughts of how I
was ever to undergo the ride back occupied my mind. Such however are the
recuperative powers of nature, that, after a rest of twenty minutes, I
again felt equal to anything, and wandered about seeing what was to be
seen till 11 o’clock P.M., when Zöga announced that dinner was ready.
Tea was made with hot water from the great Geyser, because it afforded
the nearest supply; but our provisions were cooked in Blesi, because it
was of a higher temperature. The water had no unpleasant taste and was
quite fit for our temporary use.
Zöga’s mode of cooking was simple, a fine large trout, with head and
tail tied together, was fastened to one end of a string, and a big stone
to the other; the fish was plumped into the water and the stone left
outside near the edge to moor it; so with tins of preserved meats,
soups, &c. They required to be immersed for about twenty minutes. With
these, a plentiful supply of bread, biscuit and cheese, and the addition
of a pailful of milk from the farm, we fared sumptuously; dining
al-fresco, in broad daylight and the thermometer indicating 58°,
although it was near midnight.
Several loud reports, rumblings, noises, and minor troublings of the
water, again brought us to the side of the great Geyser, in expectation
of a grand eruption, but these came to nothing, and again we were
disappointed.
The tent was small; three of our companions crept in and lay down,
leaving a place for me to follow. Professor Chadbourne, fearing he might
miss an eruption, would not leave the ground, although he had been
offered quarters at the farm; but, selecting a warm ledge of rock
immediately under the Geyser, on the north side, lay down to sleep,
wrapt up in my storm-coat.
All had now retired but Mr. Murray who accompanied me to the hill
behind, from which we obtained a bird’s-eye view of the plain, with the
river meandering through it, and of the numerous springs in the corner
immediately below us.
The sun in the north did little more than dip and skim along a little
way below the horizon; so that between twelve and one o’clock A.M. it
was lighter than on a southern cloudy day at noon; while the whole
atmosphere, in the light “dim,” exhibited a northern depth,
transparency, and calm spiritual purity, surpassing the loveliest of our
summer twilights. Those who love Dante will perhaps realize the
impression it produced on our minds, when we say, that, although it was
too light for any stars to be visible, the ethereal beauty of the sky
suggested Beatrice. Returning to the tent before one o’clock, Mr. Murray
ensconced himself comfortably outside, in the lee of it; and I crept in,
spread my plaid and lay down without disturbing any one, although the
four of us inside were packed together as closely as sardines.
After Mr. Murray had bade me good night through the canvas, hearing the
harsh croak of the raven, and the eerie whistle of the plover, I, too,
quickly fell asleep, and dreamt a queer disjointed jumble of
Scandinavian myths new and old, of which I only remembered, Odin’s Raven
flapping its wings and leading me to Rabna Floki; seeing that worthy
thrash Thor, after having eaten his hammer; and Loki kindling Midgard
with fire from the Serpent’s eyes; the winds, all the while, sighing a
requiem for Baldur, through Yggdrasill the ash tree of existence. The
rocks were being hurled about by the Jötuns, who in the midst of their
conflict opened a space and respectfully stood aside, to allow Professor
Chadbourne to approach me. Hearing myself called upon by name, I
suddenly woke up, and saw my friend, in front of the tent, beckoning to
me in a state of great excitement.
Subterranean noises like thunder were waxing louder and louder; each
earth-shock accompanied by a tremor of the ground, more or less violent,
but quite unmistakeable. Bells of water in quick succession were rising
from the basin and falling again, ever increasing in size, till a large
one burst; and then jets of water, in successive spurts, rushed up in
sheafs from the tube; at first about 10 feet, then the height was 15,
20, 30, 50 feet and so on, each effort surpassing the preceding, till it
attained the height of 200 feet. The fountain did not fall down between
each jet, but, nearly holding the elevation once gained, the whole grew
up bodily by a series of jerks each higher than the last. Dense clouds
of steam enveloped the whole, and only afforded occasional glimpses of
the columns of water from the leeward side. White vapour also spread out
above the fountain, rolling away in vast curling volumes, which,
condensing in the air, came down like heavy dew. Tremendous sounds were
continuously heard, like the roaring of an angry sea, broken in upon by
the near discharge of minute guns. It is at last, what we longed to
behold, a grand eruption of the great Geyser.
Professor Chadbourne, who came running to the tent to rouse me, had been
sleeping for warmth on a ledge immediately under the basin; and, when
wakened by the loud noises, two streams of boiling water were running
down the mound in miniature cascades on either side of him.
The vast body of water from the central pipe continued jetting up, till,
as I have said, it attained the height of 200 feet, falling down again
into the basin which was brimful to overflowing. The subterranean
rumbling sounds and reports, accompanied with vibration of the ground,
were fearful. Jets of water rushed up, in sheaf, with a continuous
noise, such as would be produced by 500 rockets discharged into the air
at the same instant.
Even the beautiful clouds of steam which robed the Geyser were regarded
by us with an indescribable feeling of mysterious awe and wonder, as if
we had actually discovered the fabled magic vapour, from which the
eastern Ufret, or any other vision, might arise; while the sharp
tinkling plash of the descending water could, at times, be heard amidst
the loud hissing, roaring, booming and confused Babel of all unearthly
sounds. The eruptive forces having now expended themselves for the time,
the fountain gradually subsided in the same manner, though more speedily
than it had risen. The whole terrific spectacle lasted about twenty
minutes. We were singularly fortunate, as, from what we were told, few
eruptions of late have lasted more than four or five minutes, or
attained half the height of this which we had just witnessed.
When over, the water subsided and left the basin empty, so that one
could walk in it to the edge of the central tube-hole, and look down. As
the water thus sank, so great was the heat in the stone that the cup was
instantaneously, though bit by bit, left as dry as an oven. Smooth and
of a whitish colour, it resembled the chalice of a gigantic water-lily.
At the edges however, where silex has been deposited from the spray and
condensed steam, the surface, although of the same colour, is rough like
coral, or rather granulated like the head of a cauliflower. I broke off
specimens of this singular formation from the lip, and also obtained
bits of shingly laminæ from the mound, the latter not unlike the outside
of an oyster-shell; on several of the fragments was a deposit of
sulphur.
I now retired to the tent, but the Professor made to sleep, sitting on
the edge with his feet in the dry basin, determined to miss nothing. In
an hour or so he was warned back by the water gradually rising and again
filling the cup. There was not much hazard in his so doing, as the
premonitory symptoms are generally “loud enough,” as my friend Dr.
Mackinlay quaintly remarked, “to disturb the repose of Rip Van Winkle
himself.” However, danger may arise from these symptoms being
disregarded, as they also precede abortive attempts, in a very deceptive
and tantalizing way; getting louder and louder up to a certain point,
and then, instead of coming to a head, gradually subsiding again into
perfect stillness. The deafening detonations and rumblings are most
frequent fast and furious, immediately before, and during eruptions.
The Geyser made another grand display, early in the morning between four
and five o’clock; but it fell far short of the first in magnitude. Tired
with the fatigues of the preceding days, with broken rest and
excitement, I only mechanically sat up, thrust aside the canvas of the
tent and gazed out on the strange scene, scarcely able to keep my eyes
half open the while. My recollections of it are consequently somewhat
vague and nebulous; having reference to loud discordant noises muffled
up in white clouds, both strangely rising from the earth. In fact, to me
scarcely half awake and perfectly passive, all seemed an evanescent
dream, and I speedily sank back again to enjoy “the honey heavy dew of
slumber;” for to the way-worn and weary, nature’s soft nurse proffers
that which is best for them, viz., repose; and as the laureate sings,
“Why should a man desire in any way
To differ from the kindly race of men?”
_July 31._—Had the luxury of a hot bath at the great Geyser; dipping a
rough towel into its basin, and tempering down the heat in one of the
cooler little pools formed on its ledge by the overflow. When bathing my
feet and half dressed, the Geyser exhibited premonitory symptoms of an
eruption, the water bubbling violently over the pipe, streams of hissing
steam, noises like thunder, then like artillery, a tremor of the ground,
then a transparent dome of water heaved up about four feet and burst.
Gathering up my clothes, bare-footed, I scampered off as fast as
possible; fortunately without cutting myself on the flinty scale-like
laminæ, which on the edges are as hard and sharp as knives. It was only
a little disturbance which subsided in a few minutes, but shallow
streams of boiling water flowed down over the very part of the basin
where I had been standing. Afterwards returning with Professor
Chadbourne, we completed our toilet, giving a keen edge to our razors by
dipping them into the hot water of the great Geyser, at the same time
making use of a little pool at the side as a mirror. The matter-of-fact
oddness of the situation recalled sundry adventures of Don Quixote, when
in quest of another basin—that of the barber, which he mistook for the
enchanted golden helmet of Mambrino. The Geyser also did efficient duty
as pot and tea-kettle for breakfast.
About ten o’clock A.M. we witnessed an eruption of Strokr. All of a
sudden, we heard as it were the whiz of a rocket, and saw a jet of water
spouting up in a single column, to the height of fifty or sixty feet,
straight as the trunk of a palm tree, but spreading out at the top,
bending gracefully down all round, and falling in clouds of spray. It
lasted for about ten minutes, subsided, and began again. Some of us,
looking down, narrowly escaped being scalded by its sudden vehement and
unexpected spurts. The ascending water shewed beautifully clear and
transparent against the sky; and gleaming rainbows came and went—now
bright as the tint of flowers, now dim and evanescent—lending opaline
lustres to the falling showers of diamond spray.
After all was over, Zöga collected several heaps of turf at the side,
and then at once plumped them all in, to provoke an eruption. We
expected the dose would take effect in twenty minutes or half-an-hour;
but a whole hour having elapsed without any sign, we began to fear it
would exhibit no resentment at being made to eat dirt. Five minutes
more, however, and up it came, rushing with tremendous force, in several
jets, and attaining a height of from a hundred to a hundred and fifty
feet. The water falling back, nearly in a perpendicular line, was met by
up-rushing steam, and thus formed a glassy dome, from which jets of
water sprang up. This disturbance lasted twenty-one minutes; was
followed by a lull; then it commenced again, subsided and ended by one
or two explosions and spurts, after which the water sunk down into the
pipe, rumbling, seething, boiling hard, and plop-plopping as before. The
water this time was black and dirty with the particles of sand and turf
which had been administered to it; so that, although higher, it lacked
the fairy-like beauty of the last eruption. I had thrown in a white
cambric pocket handkerchief with some turf tied in it; but, instead of
its being washed and thrown up, suppose it must have been cooked, and
reduced to “shreds and patches” or pulp, as I saw no more of it.
Several cows were wandering near the Geysers quite unconcerned. Many
sheep and lambs browse in the valley beneath, occasionally approaching
the springs. Accidents, however, seldom occur; although we were told of
an unlucky ox having once stumbled into Blesi, where it was boiled
alive. Sea-swallows were flying overhead; and at our feet, among the
stony grit, grew isolated patches of wild-thyme, sea-pinks, dandelions,
butter-cups, sorrel and parnassia—all of them old friends, and quite
home-like. The thermometer stood at 60° in the shade. At noon, being
Sabbath, we sat down in the lee of the tent, which was fluttering in the
breeze, and Mr. Haycock read the service for the day—Professor
Chadbourne and I taking the lessons; gave an English Testament, and some
of the Religious Tract Society’s illustrated publications to Zöga, who
could both read and translate them to his brother guides.
After dinner walked down to the river. On either side of its course lies
a strip of meadow, where the herbage is rich, green, tender and
luxuriant like a velvet carpet; the valley around, though also green, is
in many places wet and spongy; covered with heather and moss-hags.
The overflow of the Geysers comes down, steaming, to the river, through
the brown shingle which is variegated here and there with little strips
and patches of verdure. After great eruptions there is some body of
water; at other times it merely trickles, spread over a wide bed.
Wandering about, I visited every one of the springs alone. In the south
corner of the Geyser ground, steaming pits occur every little bit: the
crust there is very thin, so that one requires to tread with caution.
Some of them are merely holes in this thin crust, showing steaming pools
of hot water, flush with the surface and extending under it; others are
holes in rocks, deep, dark and craggy, with the water far down boiling
furiously and seething in white foam; such is Strokr. Some are as if one
looked down the kitchen chimney of a castle in the olden time when good
cheer was preparing: you hear boiling going on but see nothing, for all
is dark. Others throw up jets of steam. At many places you hear internal
cauldrons boiling violently, at others you can also see puffs of steam
escaping at intervals from small clay holes. The Little Geyser enlivens
the scene by throwing up many jets of steaming water, at different
angles, playing like a fountain several times in the course of an hour
or so; nor does the great Geyser allow itself to be long forgotten: loud
noises, rising bells of water, and other premonitory symptoms frequently
calling us up to its side in expectation of grand eruptions; for, more
perfect in its formation and larger than any of the other springs, it is
justly regarded as the chief attraction of the place.
Sir George Mackenzie attempted to explain the mechanism of the Geyser
eruptions, by supposing that the tube was fed from hot water confined in
a neighbouring subterranean cavern. This water was forced into and up
the tube by the pressure of steam, accumulated between the surface of
the water and the roof of the hypothetical cavern, when it had attained
power sufficient to overcome the resistance of the column of water
contained in the tube.
For several reasons, this explanation is unsatisfactory; and the more
likely theory is the chemical one, propounded by Bunsen who spent eleven
days here. In few words it is as follows. The water in the lower part of
the tube gets heated far above the boiling point by the surrounding
strata; water, thus super-heated for a length of time, is known to
undergo certain changes which materially modify its composition;
particles of air are expelled, the component molecules consequently
adhere more closely together, so that it requires a much higher
temperature to make it boil. When, however, under these conditions, it
does boil, the production of steam is so great and instantaneous as
sufficiently to account for all the phenomena of a Geyser eruption.