ANY are the cavernous formations

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of our earth; the work of ages, which no geologist can number with exactness, and of agencies in which geologist and chemist may always find new interest. A lively topic of investigation would this be of itself for naturalist or tourist or explorer, and one affording very rich returns in the revelations of nature "on this terrestrial ball."

The formation of the earth's crust, the upheaving force by which its elevated sides have been raised, and the agency of gases, volcanoes and earthquakes, lead us to expect chasms in this surface of remarkable depth and of varied construction. And we have accounts of them. Norway, Sweden, France, Germany, Switzerland, England, Saxony and Bohemia, afford notable instances of these cavernous structures. Fingal's Cave is one of the world's attractions; so is the Grotto of Antiparos, on one of the islands of the Grecian Archipelago. The American continent abounds in these formations, one of the most remarkable of which we would in this article introduce to the readers of the REPOSITORY. The visit of which we write took place in July, 1873.

Taking the steamer at Cincinnati, we had a most agreeable night-ride down the Ohio to Louisville, where, at six in the morning we found ourselves "all aboard" the train for the cave land, which is in Edmonson County, Kentucky, ninety-five miles south of Louisville, or half way between Louisville and Nashville. It was a hot summer day, but the speed of the train helped to increase a refreshing breeze that was stirring. "Old Kentuck” looked green and summer-like all along, dotted with its farmhouses, many of them with their chimnies outside at both ends of the building, a style of house-making with which many Southerners are most singularly infatuated. The grass and grain fields looked luxuriant, and the trees were at their best in greenness.

Before going to the Mammoth Cave proper, we called to see one of its neighbors, not many miles away - Proctor's

Cave, near “Glasgow Station," on the railroad. It was discovered in 1863, by one Jonathan Doyle, a slave who had taken flight from his master. This opened it to the public, and it is now one of the great attractions of that region. Mammoth Cave is deficient in stalactite formations; Proctor's Cave is full of them. Mammoth Cave is mostly dry; Proctor's is wet everywhere. Some of our party coming suddenly into it in thin clothing, from an atmosphere of ninety degrees Farenheit, became subjects of rheumatic sensations which they were obliged to endure during the remainder of their trip.

We reached this cave by descending a plank stairway, twenty-two feet in length. A remarkable labyrinth of four hundred yards is then passed, to the Great Crossing. Thence five avenues diverge, in all of which are attractions too numerous to be described in this account. Stalactite and stalagmite, in great diversity of shape, are here, and gypsum formations, such as rosettes, fibres, &c., of various sorts. Only about three miles of the Cave are open to the public; but other portions, yet to be made accessible, are said to be of equal interest. Domes of especial beauty and grandeur, grottos, halls, chambers, springs, vales, are the wonderful revelations that are constantly being made to the curious visitant. Many of the stalactites appear as massive drapery, some in the form of curtains of varied length, and giving the effect of a beautifully wrought work of some human artist. Whatever else we may yet see of cave wonders, we can never forget our visit to Proctor's Cave; and we here say to all cave hunters, go there if you can.

The caved is owned by persons for whom it is named; one of whom, "Major" Proctor, is proprietor of the public house near by, and gave our party a generous reception. His hotel is a long building of one story, which was once the habitation of his slaves. After "the late unpleasantness," his slaves became freemen, and the Major re-modeled his "row" into a very convenient house for the reception of guests. The entrance room is at one end

of it, the dining.room at the other, and the guest-rooms between, with a long piazza in front. We obtain a fine stalactite specimen here of our host, which was, by consent of the company, transmitted to Buchtel College.

A night with the Major, a good breakfast in the morning, and we start by stage for Mammoth Cave. It is a round-about way that we go, and over one of the hardest looking rocky roads. The driver, a colored "boy," was somewhat crazy with the importance of his vocation, and gave his horses freest rein at times, "scooting," as he termed the extra racing, which, over the rocks, and through the ruts, and beside the stumps, served to give the passengers a touch of the poetry of motion quite different from the every-day, slow coaching to which some of us might have been accustomed. We arrived at the Cave Hotel, however, with unbroken bones, and were dumped down at the back entrance of the hotel yard, because the proprietors of the stage, having a miff against the hotel keeper, had ordered our driver not to go in at the front entrance. Sharp words between landlord and driver were exchanged, and threats made which savored of the bloody, but no blood was shed at the time, and the passengers, not choosing to take sides in the controversy, soon found themselves in somewhat comfortable rooms in a large, old hotel in the midst of an ample yard, finely shaded by well-grown trees, and having a very inviting look to a stranger who would like to enjoy quiet and rest for a few weeks or days. The fare at the hotel was quite respectable, and the landlord and lady were agreeably attentive to the wants of their visitors, of which there were quite a number during our stay there; some from over the sea, who had heard far more of the fame of the cave than many of our own countrymen.

A night at the hotel, and the morning time found us eager for our new subterranean journey. And a long one it was to be, nine miles in, and the same distance out again. The mercury above the ground stood, at nine A. M., among the nineties; but this would soon be of no inconvenience to us, as we should be where the tempera

ture is, through summer and winter, continually at fifty-nine. A few of our number who from debility occasioned by the extreme heat, felt hardly adequate to the task, endured the journey about as well as the strongest of our party. The cave air proved a tonic to them. It is said to be not an uncommon occurrence for a person in delicate health to accomplish a journey of twenty miles in the cave without suffering at all from fatigue, who could not be prevailed upon to walk a distance of three miles above the ground.

Before entering the cave we try the different temperatures in front of it, from above the upper heat-line, down to the coolest breathings which come out of it. One can always find a luxurious summer "cooler" here.

Suitably appareled and furnished, each one with a tin lamp, with an experienced guide, we take up our line of march. A rush of air greets us as we pass in, and some of our lamps hardly kept their flame. But in walking half a mile the main avenue enlarges, and the air becomes so stilled that dust never rises. Some chemists who have examined the quality of the air, say that it is freer from those substances which exert a depressing and septic influence on animal substances than that of any other locality known upon our continent.

Through what is called the "Narrows" we pass into the Rotunda, the ceiling of which is about one hundred feet high, its greatest diameter one hundred and seventyfive feet. It is said to be directly under the dining-room of the hotel, as in digging a well for the hotel the sounds made by the workmen were heard in the cave directly above the Dome. On the floor of this part of the cave, for some distance, there are remains of vats, water-pipes and other materials used as long ago as 1812 by certain miners who came hither to manufacture saltpetre, and who were very successful in their operations. The wood of which the vats were made shows no signs of decay, and here are yet discernable the ruts where the cart-wheels passed, and the faint marks of the hoofs of the oxen employed for the transportation of the saltpetre, in these long years ago. The earth at the time

these impressions were left was moist, as most of it had been lixiviated in the manufacture of the saltpetre; now it is quite dry, and has almost the hardness of stone. The guides show us the places where the oxen were tied when not in active service, and even corn-cobs which they left are now and then found by the guides, for the benefit of curious relic-seekers.

Audubon's Avenue, the way we passed on, is at the right of the Rotunda. Here innumerable bats hybernate during the winter. Not far from the entrance of this avenue we find stone cottages, roofless, with openings of door and window places These were built some thirty years since, for consumptives who came here to reside for a time, expecting relief from the dry and even temperature of the cave. But alas! their fatal mistake was the supposition that tubercular diseases could be cured in the absence of light. Their cases were thus aggravated. Three of the feeble ones died there, and all the others passed away soon after leaving the cave. Those who remained longest (three or four months) in the cave, presented, it is said, a frightful appearance, their faces bloodless, eyes sunken, and pupils dilated to such a degree that the iris ceased to be visible. Short excursions in the cave may be beneficial to consumptives, while their long continuance there must be fatal.

And now the cave wonders increase as we advance. We can notice only some of the most significant ones. Not a long way from the Rotunda is a large place called the Church, where, from the gallery or pulpit, which consists of a ledge of rocks twentyfive feet high, the gospel was preached by not a few of the Methodist and other ministers years ago. It is quite an inviting assembly room. Onward, and the Giant's Coffin appears, a huge rock forty feet long, twenty wide and eight in depth, much resembling a coffin. It evidently fell from the side of the avenue against which it rests. Near by is the Deserted Chamber, on the ceiling of which are fantastic figures, composed of the efflorescence of black gypsum, and resting upon a background of white limestone: one that of a huge anteater, and farther on, a group called the

Giant, Wife and Child, and still farther on, a figure called the Mammoth.

Not far from the Deserted Chamber is Gorin's Dome, reached by passing over a small bridge and ascending a ladder ten feet in height. It is viewed from a natural window situated half way between the floor and ceiling of the dome. It is about two hundred feet in height, and sixty feet across. The far side presents a striking resemblance to an immense curtain, which extends from the ceiling to within forty feet of the floor. Illumined by a Bengal light, the appearance of the whole interior is magnificent. When Echo River rises the floor of the Dome is covered with water. Eyeless fish, it is said, are sometimes caught here. The Dome bears the name of its discoverer.

The reality and illusion of the Star Chamber were especially enjoyable. The place thus designated is sixty feet in height, seventy in width, and about five hundred in length. The ceiling is of black gypsum, studded with innumerable white points, which, by a dim light, bear a most striking resemblance to stars. Our guide, after seating the company in a row on one side of the Chamber, left us, taking all the lights with him, and leaving us in total darkness. Nothing could seem more real to us than this midnight starry sky, which now seemed at an immense distance above us, just light enough having been reflected upward by our guide outside of the wall, to render this sky-scene visible. There were not only stars but a comet in one part of the firmament. As we gazed a dark cloud passed over the whole scene, and then came a darkness upon us that we thought might be felt. A storm scene followed, with the help of the ingenious guide, and this passing off, presently, in the distance, a dawn like that of morning is observed; farm-yard voices are heard, "the cock's shrill clarion," sheep and calf bleating, the lowing of oxen, barking of dogs, etc. Then the rising sun appears, caused by the elevation of the lamps, the light striking a thin, rounded stalactite formation; all the doings of our well-trained guide. The stars and comet we have mentioned are produced in part by an efflorescence of salts beneath the black

gypsum, causing it to scale off, and in part by throwing stones against it and detaching the black surface from the light ground work. Never shall we forget this illusion of the Star Chamber.

The Wooden bowl Cave comes next on our route. It is named from a tradition that a wooden bowl, such as was used by the Indians, was found in it when it was first discovered. The cave itself is in shape of an inverted bowl. Black Snake Avenue, entering the Main Cave near the Stone Cottages, communicates with Wooden Bowl Cave, and receives its name from its serpentine course and black walls. Here, too, is Martha's Palace, entered by passing a steep declivity and a flight of steps. The palace is about forty feet high and sixty in diameter, with no remarkable attractions. A little beyond is a spring of clear water. We pass over Side Saddle Pit, above which is a dome sixty feet high, reached by passing through what is called the Arched Way, the walls, floor and ceiling bearing evidence of having once been the channel of running water. The pit is ninety feet deep and about twenty feet across. Its depths were illuminated by burning papers sent down into it by some of the party.

The aperture leading to the pit resembles the outlines of a side-saddle; hence its name. The Bottomless Pit and Bridge of Sighs thrown over it, are next passed, over which is Shelby's Dome, sixty feet high, and near them is Reveller's Hall, where visitors of the exceedingly convivial kind have tarried for a while to indulge in discussions of the curiosities near by, and the solid and especially liquid "refreshments" which were a part of their supplies for the occasion. Still on, and we have a circular opening called The Scotchman's Trap, through which it is necessary to descend, and over which is suspended a huge rock, which, if it were to fall, would completely close the avenue leading to Echo River. Now we come to Fat Man's Misery, wittily named, a narrow, tortuous avenue, fifty yards in length, evidently cut out of the rock by the solid action of the water. It varies in width from a foot and one-half to three feet below, and higher up, from four to ten. Notwithstanding its name,

there had not, as we learned, been accounts of any pedestrians too bulky in size to get through it with ease and safety. Great Relief, a large chamber, in width from forty to sixty feet, is entered on leaving Fat Man's Misery. Upon the ceiling of this chamber are singular formations of limestone.

From Great Relief to what is called the River Styx, is River Hall, to the right of which there is what is called Bacon Chamber. And verily the name seems an appropriate one, for from the ceiling, in every direction, project small masses of the rock, very nearly resembling cured hams. Science tells us that they were formed by the solvent action of water charged with carbonic acid, when the lower portion of them rested against a stratum of rock which has since been detached.

And now we are really to pass the Styx, although no Charon appears to convey us. But we can depend upon our guide Willie in this emergency. Styx, Lake Lethe and Echo River, all in this neighborhood, are evidently supplied by Green River, and rise or fall according to the amount of water in the last-named stream. Freshets in Green River cause the waters so to rise as to render the passage across Echo River impracticable. But the waters are favorable for us, and a most agreeable passage have we over this subterranean sea. Our guide seats the company on each side of the boat, upon its edges, enjoining stillness on our part, and taking the bow himself pilots us with paddle and hands steadily, but with zig-zag course across, his hands often stretched above him, to reach the overhanging rock-ceiling, and to gain a hold upon it by which he may the more effectually impel his craft of precious freight along. On our novel voyage we had music of our own furnishing,; and rich music it was, too, such as no cathedral or opera-hall above ground can afford. "Psalms, hymns and spiritual songs," snatches of tamiliar tunes, and all sorts of musical miscellanies were indulged in, and as the rich and farawakened echoes came back upon us, we marvelled at the musical genius and skill with which we were endowed. Never shall we forget the clear, clarion and rich bass