At the point where we landed, the ground was composed of a kind of ochery earth, of a dark red color, varied with yellow, which the boatmen told us was used for paint. A fourth of a mile to the right, and immediately at the edge of the lake, were the “fuentes calientes,” or hot springs. They are hundreds in number; in fact, for a considerable extent, the ground was covered with white incrustations, resembling a field of snow; and as we walked over it, the sound of the water beneath was like that of a violently boiling cauldron. There were numerous openings, from which rose columns of steam, and where the water boiled up to the height of from six inches to two feet. Around some of these places the deposites had gradually built up little cones, with openings in the centre, where the clear water bubbled as in a kettle. I sent specimens of the deposites to the United States for analysis, but they unfortunately miscarried, and I am consequently unable to give the constituents of which they are made up. They will no doubt be duly announced when the “Grand Volcano Hotel, and North American Natural Hot Spring Bath Establishment,” shall be opened for invalids, on the shores of Lake Managua. Between the shore and the true base of the volcano is a gentle slope, ridged with beds of lava, which run down into the lake, but which have become disintegrated on the surface, and are now covered with coarse grass, bushes, and clumps of trees. Here cattle from distant haciendas are allowed to roam from one year’s end to the other, until they become almost as wild as the deer themselves. The vaqueros occasionally visit them, to mark the young ones, or to select the best ones for sale, but beyond this they receive no care or attention. We started over this slope, in the direction of the smoking orifice which we had observed from the lake. But we were under the lee of the mountains, where not a breath of wind reached us, and exposed to the full glow of the sun; and before we had gone a mile, we almost repented of our undertaking. The doctor, the padre, and myself alone persisted in proceeding. The surface became rougher as we advanced, and scrubby trees and thorny bushes impeded our progress, and shut out from view the place which we were struggling to reach. We next came to ridges of treacherous, scoriaceous sand, which yielded beneath our feet, and which we only ascended by clinging to the clumps of grass which grew here and there, and by driving our swords to their hilts in the ground, as supports. But our progress was slow and painful, and we were compelled to pause every second minute to recover our strength. Finally, the sun was no longer hot, it was withering, and the dry scoriæ became blistering to the touch. I looked up towards the top of the volcano, and shall never forget its utterly bald and desolate appearance. The atmosphere on its sides seemed to undulate with heat, and the reflected rays burned my eyeballs.