Outing . d prop-erly propped and still steeping with won-der at the days discoveries, I crawledunder to sleep and dream of Naturesconundrum. The porcupines nosedaround the boat and cleaned up every-thing eatable, but they were very decentabout it. The owl had a doleful tale totell about the interloper under the boat. Looking into the Geyser Problem The morning dawned beautifully intoa crystal day and the white skiff soonrested at the brink of the biggest bluepatch of water. The weeds, the long,snaky, plumy things—are they alive?—striving to tear away from the verticalwalls to reach the light a
Outing . d prop-erly propped and still steeping with won-der at the days discoveries, I crawledunder to sleep and dream of Naturesconundrum. The porcupines nosedaround the boat and cleaned up every-thing eatable, but they were very decentabout it. The owl had a doleful tale totell about the interloper under the boat. Looking into the Geyser Problem The morning dawned beautifully intoa crystal day and the white skiff soonrested at the brink of the biggest bluepatch of water. The weeds, the long,snaky, plumy things—are they alive?—striving to tear away from the verticalwalls to reach the light and the still andfragrant air? They are moving, sway-ing. Is there a rising current, a swellingtide? The movements of those serpen-tine things are regular, is no doubting it. The water isboiling up. Here is a monster is more. It is a river coming fromsomewhere. Wliere ? I studied it an hour or so from theboat, retreated a few yards, anchored,and was soon swimming about in the. WHERE THE FIRST HINT CAME OF THE SUBTERRANEAN TORRENT warm shallows. Whatever possessed meI know not, but I soon found myselfnear the middle of that boiling geyser—for really such it was—but it was by nomeans boiling hot. I could almost feelmyself slipping, as it were, between cakesof ice as I struggled back to the warmshallows. Why will anybody with alittle family at home run such a risk ofdropping out of sight all alone? I picked a stone from the shore nearby, attached it to my trolling line, sound-ed the depth of this singular pit, andfound it just under a hundred feet. Itwas more than two hundred feet other abyss close by was of similarsize and depth, but not a geyser. Thethird was a little one, only thirty feet—just still, clear water. I now sought the entrance to this vale of miracles, to findwhat might be going on there. Nothingbut a river flowing out, sometimes slowly,sometimes with a rush, correspondingprecisely with the intermittent geyserand the ti
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade, booksubjectsports, booksubjecttravel
