Page:Our New Zealand Cousins.djvu/71

 A little further, and we come to a geyser called the Steam Engine, with a great spray leaping over ochreous-looking rocks.

Below is a boiling, hissing Phlegethon. It rejoices in the appellation of Ngahapu, meaning, "All the tribes rolled into one." Its hellish activity justifies its title. It is one of the most vigorous geysers of all the district. It has intermittent spasms of activity, during which the huge column of water spouts up with amazing force, and the din and commotion are truly infernal. A great column of steam towers aloft, in ever changing volumes like the "Pillar of cloud by day." The incessant vibration, and clang, and pulsing din, go unintermittingly on, and almost deafen us, as we shudderingly hurry past.

A few more yards bring us to the shore of the lake—blast-holes here too, on all hands—Takapau, a boiling cauldron, with countless lesser comrades, seething and bubbling all around, make us think that surely here all the witches of the earth are boiling their deadly porridge "thick and slab."

Through the scrub again. Now we come on a perfect hecatomb of broken bottles, empty cans, straw, envelopes, and waste paper. This is humorously named by Kate the Rotomahana Hotel, and is the place where lunch is usually devoured.

Up a steep, muddy hill now, and at the top we emerge on the mud flat, where many boiling mudholes repeat the phenomena we have already seen, only substituting liquid boiling mud instead of water. We look down, and see a seething mass of molten