THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



the first trip over the ground was the 

 most dangerous. After one man had ex- 

 plored any area in safety, there was no 

 probability of accident to those who fol- 

 lowed. 



COOKING AT A FUMAROEE 



In many places the valley round about 

 the vents is covered with a peculiar blue 

 mud, thinly coated with a chestnut-brown 

 crust, which sometimes supports one and 

 sometimes gives way suddenly, letting one 

 down to his shoe-tops in the soft, scald- 

 ing mud beneath. At such times one is 

 apt to feel that his feet are taking hold 

 on hell in very verity, particularly if the 

 place happens to look "ticklish" other- 

 wise. We were surprised to find that 

 continued immersion of our feet in such 

 places did our shoes no perceptible in- 

 jury, for we had expected that they 

 would be rapidly eaten away. 



We chose our camp well up on the 

 mountain side overlooking the valley, 

 close beside a melting snow-drift. Here, 

 although we were denied the pleasure of 

 a camp-fire, for not a stick of wood re- 

 mains anywhere in the valley, we had "all 

 the comforts of home." Fifty yards be- 

 hind us was our refrigerator, where we 

 could keep everything freezing cold until 

 needed (see page 124). 



Just in front was our cook-stove — a 

 mild-mannered fumarole — into which we 

 hung our pots to cook our food. We 

 were somewhat dubious beforehand as to 

 the feasibility of this method of cooking, 

 because of the noxious gases that came 

 off along with the steam ; but the results 

 were more than satisfactory. We never 

 detected the faintest taint in any of our 

 food. Everything was always done ex- 

 actly right. Since the pots were sur- 

 rounded by an atmosphere of live steam, 

 just at the point of condensing, nothing 

 ever boiled away, cooked to pieces, or 

 burned, no matter how long neglected or 

 forgotten. 



There was only one drawback: while 

 we were in the valley we had to do with- 

 out our old standbys, bacon and flapjacks, 

 for our stove would not fry. There 

 were, however, many vents in the valley 

 quite hot enough to fry bacon. The va- 

 por from most of the more active ones 



is so hot that the steam does not con- 

 dense for some distance beyond the vents 

 (see page 133). When a stick is poked 

 into these the end is quickly charred, in- 

 dicating a temperature considerably above 

 the frying point. 



Our thermometers did not read high 

 enough to measure the temperatures of 

 these vents, so we were unable to ascer- 

 tain exactly how hot they were. But we 

 did not think it advisable to try bacon 

 and flapjacks in them, because most of 

 them are a little too vigorous to be alto- 

 gether manageable. The vapor in many 

 cases comes out with such force that the 

 frying pan would have had to be held 

 down against the rising steam. A sudden 

 pur! of wind from an unexpected quarter 

 might, moreover, have blown the steam in 

 the cook's face and inflicted a serious 

 burn. 



A STEAM-HEATED TENT 



When we turned in the first night, we 

 were astonished to find that the ground 

 under our tent was decidedly warm. On 

 examination we found that a thermom- 

 eter thrust 6 inches into the ground 

 promptly rose to the boiling point. This 

 was indeed a surprise, for the place only 

 recently had been vacated by the retreat- 

 ing snowbank behind us. 



We put most of our bedding under us 

 to keep us cool ! 



But before long our blankets were as 

 hot as the ground. Close to the snow- 

 drift as we were, and at an altitude of 

 about 2,500 feet, the air was at times 

 quite cold ; so while we steamed on one 

 side we froze on the other. We had to 

 keep turning over and over in the effort 

 to equalize the temperature. We did not 

 sleep much the first night, and all ex- 

 pected to "catch our death of cold." 



After a few hours we discovered that 

 the ground was not merely hot, but that 

 invisible vapors were everywhere seeping 

 up through the soil. The condensation 

 of this steam from the ground made our 

 bedding first damp and then wet, so that 

 by morning we were in a most curious 

 case. The sensations that greeted us on 

 awakening in these warm, wet beds can 

 in justice be compared only with certain 

 distressing memories of one's childhood 

 days, which they exactly paralleled. 



