126 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
of jerking leaps, each higher than the last, flung their 
silver crests against the sky. For a few minutes the 
fountain held its own, then all at once appeared to lose 
its ascending energy. The unstable waters faltered,— 
drooped,—fell, “ like a broken purpose,” back upon them¬ 
selves, and were immediately sucked down into the 
recesses of their pipe. 
The spectacle was certainly magnificent; but no 
description can give any idea of its most striking 
features. The enormous wealth of water, its vitality, 
its hidden power,—the illimitable breadth of sunlit 
vapour, rolling out in exhaustless profusion,—all com¬ 
bined to make one feel the stupendous energy of nature’s 
slightest movements. 
And yet I do not believe the exhibition was so fine 
as some that have been seen: from the first burst 
upwards, to the moment the last jet retreated into the 
pipe, was no more than a space of seven or eight 
minutes, and at no moment did the crown of the 
column reach higher than sixty or seventy feet above 
the surface of the basin. Now, early travellers talk 
of three hundred feet, which must, of course, be 
fabulous ; but many trustworthy persons have judged 
