It seemed but a short walk, a quarter of a mile at most, from the house to the columns of steam belching from the side of the hill. Although we were accustomed to the deceptive distances in this clear atmosphere, this time we were thoroughly deluded. That walk of ten minutes lengthened into one of an hour as the distance proved to be fully three miles. Crossing the meadow we climbed a gentle slope of clay and sulfur to the very edge of the solfatara. What a weird and impressive scene it is! Every beauty of form and color, every horror of sound and odor are here united. Unnumbered tons of sublimed sulfur are piled in banks and pyramids at the base of the cliffs. Great pools of boiling bolus hiss, splutter and stink. The air is foul with hot hydrogen sulfid and stifling with sulfur dioxid. Wavering columns of steam render the walking dangerous as oftentimes one can not see the place where he is about to set his foot. We crunched through the beds of monoclinic crystals and frequently slumped into them to the knee and when we pulled the leg from the hole a new column of steam shot into the air. Geologists who have examined this place have had unpleasant experiences because of approaching too near to the centers of activity. Hooker states that “In endeavoring to avoid one of these unpleasant gusts, (of steam), which threatened to annoy me while I was gathering some specimens, I jumped up to my knees in a semi-liquid mass of hot sulphur.” What a thing of beauty is a hole in these warm sulfur needles! They are like needles, three to six inches long and glisten with the purest amber glow. The viscid mass of clay and mineral earths stick to the boots and it is often a task to withdraw the feet from the clinging mess. The appearance of the surface is deceitful, for often when it seems most secure the crust breaks and a spurt of hot steam shoots up beside the leg in a very unpleasant manner. A thin hard crust of sulfur often conceals a seething mass of the same material and one literally walks, “_Perignes, suppositos cineri doloso_.”[6] Elevated rims about the sizzling pools hold the viscid mass in place except when a sudden eruption of steam causes the material to slop over the sides of the basins in a frightful manner. Add to this the steam-filled air, the moaning of the cauldrons, the roar of the escaping gases from a hole high up in the side of the talus and the thought that the whole area may collapse into the bowels of the earth or explode with volcanic force and the mental situation is complete.