ing over the earth's surface and knowledge of terrestrial affairs
has taught us not to accept unchallenged the statements of even such
worthy guides as our veracious Sophia. The fact as confirmed to us by
ocular demonstration was quite startling enough, and exaggeration was
certainly needless. This erratic geyser emerges from a large opening
eight or ten feet in diameter worn through the split rock, and is of
unknown depth,--a successful attempt to sound it being impossible, as
the spray would envelop the operator and scald him to death.

The water from this geyser overflows a series of bowlders running down
into a broad sulphurous basin, in which are many more boiling springs
and yawning chasms, with here and there overheated flat stones upon
which the natives bake their food. The bowlders and slabs over which the
chemicalized waters flow, receive a yellowish deposit of sparkling
silica, mixed with crystals of sulphur and gleaming sparks of black
manganese, which all together form beautiful colors when the sun's rays
break through the clouds of mist and play upon them. We were shown among
the rocks a natural stone basin capable of holding thirty or forty
gallons of water, into and through which the boiling waters could be
conducted at will; and here, according to Sophia, her forefathers used
to boil the heads of their prisoners into a palatable soup!

The action of the subterranean forces is more demonstrative here than at
Ohinemutu, and the immediate sulphurous effect upon the atmosphere is
much more dense. The matter thrown up from the depths consists of
crystals of alum, soda, sulphur, arsenic, iron, and other chemicals,
which form cones about the several chasms. After passing in and out
among these geysers, boiling rivulets, hot springs, and steam clouds,
one is glad to reach an elevation where the atmosphere is comparatively
clear and pure, and where a long breath may be drawn with a degree of
comfort. Standing upon an elevation overlooking the whole strange scene,
the air filled with heated spray, steam, and sulphurous gases, forming
all together a dense vapor which clouded the sunlight, it was impossible
not to recall the picture of Dante's Inferno.

Our cicerone here, as the reader has already been partially informed,
was the famous Sophia, a Maori woman who has acted in this capacity for
many years, and who, as she herself deposed, was the mother of fifteen
children, twelve of whom were still living. Her tatt