The Strokker is the only
spring, except the Geyser, which has to be approached with great
caution. The eruptions sometimes succeed each other quickly, and
sometimes cease for a few hours, and are not preceded by any sign.
Another spring spouts constantly, but never higher than three to
four feet. A third one lies about four or five feet deep, in a
rather broad basin, and produces only a few little bubbles. But
this calmness is deceptive: it seldom lasts more than half a
minute, rarely two or three minutes; then the spring begins to
bubble, to boil, and to wave and spout to a height of two or three
feet; without, however, reaching the level of the basin. In some
springs I heard boiling and foaming like a gentle bellowing; but saw
no water, sometimes not even steam, rising.
Two of the most remarkable springs which can perhaps be found in the
world are situated immediately above the Geyser, in two openings,
which are separated by a wall of rock scarcely a foot wide. This
partition does not rise above the surface of the soil, but descends
into the earth; the water boils slowly, and has an equable, moderate
discharge. The beauty of these springs consists in their remarkable
transparency. All the varied forms and caves, the projecting peaks,
and edges of rock, are visible far down, until the eye is lost in
the depths of darkness. But the greatest beauty of the spring is
the splendid colouring proceeding from the rock; it is of the
tenderest, most transparent, pale blue and green, and resembles the
reflection of a Bengal flame. But what is most strange is, that
this play of colour proceeds from the rock, and only extends eight
to ten inches from it, while the other water is colourless as common
water, only more transparent, and purer.
I could not believe it at first, and thought it must be occasioned
by the sun; I therefore visited the springs at different times,
sometimes when the sun shone brightly, sometimes when it was
obscured by clouds, once even after its setting; but the colouring
always remained the same.
One may fearlessly approach the brink of these springs. The
platform which projects directly from them, and under which one can
see in all directions, is indeed only a thin ledge of rock, but
strong enough to prevent any accident. The beauty consists, as I
have said, in the magical illumination, and in the transparency, by
which all the caves and grottoes to the greatest depths become
visible to the eye. Involuntarily I thought of Schiller's Diver.
{40} I seemed to see the goblet hang on the peaks and jags of the
rock; I could fancy I saw the monsters rise from the bottom. It
must be a peculiar pleasure to read this splendid poem in such an
appropriate spot.
I found scarcely any basins of Brodem or coloured waters. The only
one of the kind which I saw was a small basin, in which a brownish-
red substance, rather denser than water, was boiling. Another
smaller spring, with dirty brown water, I should have quite
overlooked, if I had not so industriously searched for these
curiosities.
At last, after long waiting, on the second day of my stay, on the
27th June, at half-past eight in the morning, I was destined to see
an eruption of the Geyser in its greatest perfection. The peasant,
who came daily in the morning and in the evening to inquire whether
I had already seen an eruption, was with me when the hollow sounds
which precede it were again heard. We hastened out, and I again
despaired of seeing any thing; the water only overflowed as usual,
and the sound was already ceasing. But all at once, when the last
sounds had scarcely died away, the explosion began. Words fail me
when I try to describe it: such a magnificent and overpowering
sight can only be seen once in a lifetime.
All my expectations and suppositions were far surpassed. The water
spouted upwards with indescribable force and bulk; one pillar rose
higher than the other; each seemed to emulate the other. When I had
in some measure recovered from the surprise, and regained composure,
I looked at the tent. How little, how dwarfish it seemed as
compared to the height of these pillars of water! And yet it was
about twenty feet high. It did, indeed, lie ten feet lower than the
basin of the Geyser; but if tent had been raised above tent, these
ten feet could only be deducted once, and I calculated, though my
calculation may not be correct, that one would need to pile up five
or six tents to have the height of one of the pillars. Without
exaggeration, I think the largest spout rose above one hundred feet
high, and was three to four feet in diameter.
Fortunately I had looked at my watch at the beginning of the hollow
sounds, the forerunners of the eruption, for during its continuance
I should probably have forgotten to do so. The whole lasted four
minutes, of which the greater half must have been taken up by the
eruption itself.
When this wonderful scene was over, the peasant accompanied me to
the basin. We could now approach it and the boiler without danger,
and examine both at leisure. There was now nothing to fear; the
water had entirely disappeared from the outer basin. We entered it
and approached the inner basin, in which the water had sunk seven or
eight feet, where it boiled and bubbled fiercely.
With a hammer I broke some crust out of the outer as well as out of
the inner basin; the former was white, the latter brown. I also
tasted the water; it had not an unpleasant taste, and can only
contain an inconsiderable proportion of sulphur, as the steam does
not even smell of it.
