is ever seen of him again, except his liver; in a few hours after the man disappears, his liver is seen floating on the surface, and is recovered. This is the sort of information possessed by the guides. A native woman fell into one hot crater, and the guides say her screaming can still be heard. I listened attentively, and the hissing steam made a noise at times which sounded something like a woman's scream. . . . In the warm pools, boys and girls swim together, stark naked. The entrance to the geyser field is over a bridge spanning a roaring stream, and girls fourteen and fifteen years old jump from this bridge into the water, if pennies are thrown as an inducement. The jump is a high one, and I saw no boys making it. In one warm pool where naked boys and girls were in bathing we saw a little white girl, but the guide did not know her, and could not explain how she came there. . . . Every visitor to New Zealand soon remarks that the women do not care much about their feet or figures. Still, their waists and feet do not seem larger than they should be; perhaps women in other parts of the world unnaturally pinch themselves. . . . Tourists do all sorts of queer things. One woman who sits at our table carries her own tea and teapot, and another carries her own bread. . . . A rumor came to the hotel today that the big geysers were spouting, and there was hurrying among the guests, but the rumor proved only partly true; the spouting lasted only a few minutes, and the guests of the Grand did not see it. Last Wednesday, when we were on the lake trip, the big geysers spouted nine hours, breaking all records. A bulletin board is displayed in the hotel office, and this
