This mud has quite the appearance of fine clay dissolved in water; its colour was a light grey.
From another basin, hardly two feet in diameter, a mighty column of steam shot continually into the air with so much force and noise that I started back half stunned, and could have fancied the vault of heaven would burst.

This basin is situated in a corner of the valley, closely shut in on three sides by hills.

In the neighbourhood many hot springs gushed forth; but I saw no columns of water, and my guide assured me that such a phenomenon was never witnessed here.
There is more danger in passing these spots than even in traversing the mountains.

In spite of the greatest precautions, I frequently sank in above the ankles, and would then draw back with a start, and find my foot covered with hot mud.

From the place where I had broken through, steam and hot mud, or boiling water, rose into the air.
Though my guide, who walked before me, carefully probed the ground with his stick, he several times sank through half-way to the knee.