and Paulsen to have reached the extraordinary
height of three hundred and sixty feet. All these measurements appear
to me to be exaggerated.

Ascending a slope of dry incrusted earth of a red and yellowish color,
we first came upon the Little Geyser, a small orifice in the ground,
from which a column of steam arose. A bubbling sound as of boiling
water issued from the depths below, but otherwise it presented no
remarkable phenomena. In a few minutes more we stood in the middle of
a sloping plateau of some half a mile in circuit, which declines into
an extensive valley on the right. Within the limits of this area there
are some forty springs and fissures which emit hot water and vapors.
None of them are of any considerable size, except the Great Geyser,
the Strokhr, and the Little Geyser. The earth seems to be a mere crust
of sulphurous deposits, and burnt clay, and rotten trap-rock, and is
destitute of vegetation except in a few spots, where patches of grass
and moss present a beautiful contrast to the surrounding barrenness.
In its quiescent state the scene was not so striking as I had
expected, though the whirling volumes of smoke that filled the air,
and the strange sounds that issued from the ground in every direction,
filled my mind with strong premonitions of what might take place at
any moment. I did not yet relinquish my views in reference to the
superiority of the California Geysers; still, I began to feel some
misgiving about it when I looked around and saw the vastness of the
scale upon which the fixtures were arranged here for hydraulic
entertainments. If we could beat Iceland in the beauty of our scenery,
it was quite apparent that the advantage lay here in the breadth and
extent of the surrounding desolation--the great lava-fields, the
snow-capped Jokuls, and the distant peaks of Mount Hecla.

We rode directly toward the Great Geyser, which we approached within
about fifty yards. Here was the camping-ground--a pleasant little
patch of green sod, where the various travelers who had preceded us
had pitched their tents. Zoega knew every spot. He had accompanied
most of the distinguished gentlemen who had honored the place with
their presence, and had something to say in his grave, simple way
about each of them. Here stood Lord Dufferin's tent. A lively young
gentleman he was; a very nice young man; told some queer stories about
the Icelanders; didn't see much of the country, but made a very nice
book about