AND RETURN TO SAN FRANCISCO. Al 
small stream came tumbling down, concealed from view 
by dense foliage, and united at the base of a jutting 
mass of rocks, as seen in the sketch. I thrust a staff, 
which I carried with me, some three or four feet into 
the crumbled granite beneath; which led us to think 
it not quite safe to remain where we were. From this 
place, we got down with some difficulty to the bottom 
of the gorge, where the main stream ran. The water 
was here cold and pure, exhibiting no unpleasant taste. 
A few yards further brought us into the midst of the 
pulling geysers, or steam-jets; for I knew not by what 
other name to call them. Fumes of sulphur here met 
our nostrils at every step, while the rustling steam, as 
it spouted from a hundred cavities, completely envel- 
oped us. The latter did not issue in one continuous 
column, but at short intervals, as from the pipe ofa 
high pressure engine. It was with somerdifficulty that 
we could breathe here among the fumes of sulphur and 
the steam; and we crouched low in the bed of the 
rocky stream to avoid them. In cavities along both 
banks, and near the running brook, was boiling water, 
which rose and fell, accompanied by a loud gurgling 
noise, resembling that of a gigantic steam condenser, 
In one of these cavities, stones as large as an ege 
were in a state of commotion, presenting a curious 
resemblance to a pot of boiling potatoes. I held my 
hand fifteen inches above this boiling pot, at which 
distance the water scalded it. From this cavity to the 
running stream, was just the width of my hand; though 
the surface of the boiling water in the cavity, was about 
a foot above the running water. The whole of this 
violent commotion was accompanied by a tremendous 
