Chapter 2

MARBLE CAVE.

Marble Cave, which is the finest yet explored in Missouri, is southeast of the center of Stone County, a short distance north of the picturesque White River. The nearest station is Marionville on the St. Louis and San Francisco railroad, and the drive of forty miles is delightful, but can be divided, into two of twenty each by a stop at Galena. The road, for the most part, is naturally macadamized and is through a most charming country whose roughness and beauty increase together as the journey advances. At first it winds along fertile valleys between wooded hills, crossing many times a shallow stream of water so clear as to afford no concealment for an occasional water-moccasin, whose bite is said to be not poisonous if inflicted under water, and which must be true because the horses showed not the least uneasiness.

The second week in May found the vegetation in its summer beauty; strawberries were ripe, and the weather without a fault.

Galena is pleasantly situated on the hills overlooking the James River, and is entirely invisible from the road by which it is approached until a slight curve in the line of ascent ends the first half of the journey with surprising suddenness. In the immediate vicinity there are several small caves which are worthy of attention and will be described later on.

To properly picture the twenty miles of changing and charming views between Galena and Marble Cave would require the light and skillful touch of a special artist gifted with a tangible perception of atmospheric values. Gradually the road forsakes the pretty valleys with their fields and streams, to take the summit of the hills and then be known as the "Ridge Road," which affords a wide range of vision not previously enjoyed, presenting scenes not to be found reproduced elsewhere with any degree of exactness. Looking into the depth of the forest as it slopes away on either side, the impression is of a magnificent park, undefaced by what are called improvements. This effect is produced by the scarcity, or entire absence of underbrush, and a beautiful surface covering of grasses or flowering plants of all kinds and colors, varied here and there with masses of ferns of unusual size and delicate beauty. The most unexpected and lavish feature of the rich display is the many miles of fragrant honeysuckle that grows only eighteen inches high in the forest shade, but if transplanted to a sunny spot develops into the familiar vine. The most beautiful portion of all this is called The Wilderness, and seems designed for a National Park. Such a park reserve, even if very small, could not fail to be a lasting pleasure, since it would be more accessible to large centers of population than other reserves, and its most delightful seasons are spring and autumn when the Yellowstone is under snow.

The distant view obtained through open spaces is an undulating forest in all directions, being apparently both trackless and endless. The great variety of greens observed in the foliage blends in the distance into one dark shade, then changes to dark blue, which gradually fades out to a hazy uncertainty where it is lost at the sky-line.

As long ago as 1853, the variety and abundance of the natural growth of fruits throughout the Ozarks was observed by Professor Swallow, who then advised the planting of vines.

Beyond the Wilderness is the Marble Cave property and the entrance to the Cave is through a large sink-hole in the top of Roark Mountain. This hole is said to be about two hundred feet long, one hundred feet wide and thirty-five feet deep. It is shaped like a great oblong bowl with sloping sides, divided irregularly near the middle, and having the bottom broken out in a jagged way that is very handsome and gives an ample support to the growth of ferns, wild roses, and other vegetation with which it is abundantly decorated. About half of the descent into the basin is accomplished by scrambling down the roughly broken rocks, and the balance by a broad wooden stairway ending at a narrow platform that supports the locked gate.

For kind and valuable assistance rendered to insure the success and pleasure of the visit to the wonderful cave, which they regard with affection and pride, very cordial thanks are due to Capt. T.S. Powell, former manager, his son, Mr. Will Powell, the first guide, and Mr. Fred Prince, who has made the only official survey and map. It may be stated here that the survey and map are far from complete, and many known passages have never yet been entered.

Being the first visiting party of the season, certain disadvantages were encountered in a great accumulation of wet clay and rubbish, washed in by the rains since the previous summer; but the gate was opened with considerable effort, and slowly and cautiously we descended the slippery, clay-banked stairs to the immense mound of debris forty-five feet below the gate, to behold, at last, the grandeur of the Auditorium.

The magnificence of that one chamber should give to Marble Cave a world-wide fame even if there were nothing more beyond. The blue-gray limestone walls have a greater charm than those of an open cañon, owing to the fact that they sweep away from any given point in long, true curves to form an elliptical chamber three hundred and fifty feet long by one hundred and twenty-five feet wide, with the vault above showing absolute perfection of arch, and measuring, by the survey, from its lowest to its highest point, one hundred and ninety-five feet. These measurements are said to be indisputably correct, and if so, the Auditorium of Marble Cave is the largest unsupported, perfect arch in the world; it being one hundred feet longer than the famous Mormon Tabernacle at Salt Lake City. In addition to the artistic superiority of architectural form, its acoustic properties having been tested, it is found to be truly an auditorium. The curving walls and pure atmosphere combine to aid the voice, and carry its softest tones with marvelous distinctness to every portion of the immense inclosed space. As a concert hall its capacity has been tested by musicians who are said to have been enthusiastic over the success of their experiments. Several years ago a piano was lowered into the cave for use on a special occasion, and still occupies a position on the dancing platform, where it will probably remain indefinitely under the scant protection of a small canvas tent.

The chief ornament of the Auditorium is the White Throne, a stalagmitic mass that when viewed from the stairway appears to rest solidly against the most distant wall, and looks so small an object in that vast space as to render a realization of its actual measurement impossible. The height of the Throne is sixty-five feet and the girth two hundred. It is a mass of dripstone resting on a limestone base reserved from the ancient excavation to receive it, and on careful inspection the perpendicular lines, observed on the front, are found to be a set of rather large organ pipes. A fresh fracture shows the Throne to be a most beautiful white and gold onyx. The outer surface has now received a thin coating of yellow clay which was, of course, regretted, but later observations on onyx building reveals the pleasing fact that if the crystal-bearing waters continue to drip, the yellow clay will supply the coloring matter for a golden band of crystal.

The Throne is hollow and has a natural opening in one side by which it may be entered, but the space within is too limited to invite a lengthy stay. That portion of the outside which is nearest the wall is formed with sufficient irregularity of outline to admit of an ascent to the top, and the view obtained is well worth the difficult scramble up and the apprehensive slide down. Being raised so high above all objects that divide attention or in some degree obstruct the view, permits a freedom of outlook that sensibly increases the appreciation of the vastness of the enclosed chamber and its enclosing walls. Efforts to establish the age of the deposit by observations on the yearly growth, would afford little satisfaction, for the obvious reason that conditions governing the growth are dependent, in a measure, on each season's vegetation. Deposit began, of course, after the erosion of the chamber ceased, and therefore represents only a fraction of the age of the cave itself. About thirty feet west of the White Throne and against the wall, stands the next onyx attraction in the form of a beautiful fluted column nearly twenty feet high, tapering up from a base three feet in diameter, and known as the Spring Room Sentinel, because the Spring of Youth is just behind it although not directly connected with the Auditorium; it being the first chamber on the left in Total Depravity Passage, a wet and dangerous way of which next to nothing is known, but the entrance to which is a fine arch a few feet west of the Sentinel. The Spring of Youth is reached by climbing through a window-like opening, and is very small, very wet, very cold, and very beautiful. It is not more than ten feet high nor six in its greatest length and breadth, but every inch of its irregular surface is composed of dripstone of a bright yellowish-red and colorless crystal; and down the glittering walls trickles clear and almost ice-cold water, to the onyx floor where it is caught and held in a marvelous fluted bowl of its own manufacture. This is said to be the gem of the whole cave and seems to have been placed where it is for the consolation of those who are unable to enjoy the peculiar grandeur of the Auditorium, and leave it as some actually are said to do, with a sense of disappointment, because it is not the gleaming white hall of marble which some writers for reputable journals have allowed their imaginations to create.

In winter the Spring of Youth Room takes on a complete coating of ice, with icicles of all sizes hanging from the ceiling and projections. The effect is described as being wonderfully beautiful.

Further down Total Depravity Passage we were not urged to go, because at that season of the year it is wet and difficult, without any sufficient promise of a brilliant compensation for the achievement of such a journey. But the Spring of Youth Room, or as it is generally called, the Spring Room, is more than ample justification for the existence of the passage, and would still be if that passage were several miles in length and the attraction located at the most distant limit.

The various passages in Marble Cave are by no means alike or even similar; some having been opened by the action of water assisted only by acid carried in solution; while others are the unmistakable crevices of earthquake origin, afterwards enlarged, or perhaps only remodeled, as we might say, by the water's untiring energy in changing the position of rock masses without obliterating evidences of original design.

A glance at the map shows the sudden breaking off of the various passages represented; the end, however, is not of the passages themselves, but only of the exploration or the survey of them, and there is a possibility that future developments will lead to the discovery of more caves than are yet known. However that may be, the glimpses already had into the beyond are said to be alluring.

To the north of the Auditorium, which was until recently called the Grand Amphitheater, there opens out a kind of alcove extension known as the Mother Hubbard Room, and spreading out from this is the corridor, a room about one hundred and twenty-five feet long and seventy-five feet in width, with a low, narrow passage, or crawl, leading from the northeast into the Grotto, a dome-shaped room formerly called the Battery, on account of the great number of bats that used to congregate in it. It is about forty feet in diameter and fifty feet in height. On one side of this room is a narrow "squeeze" opening into a passage several feet lower than the floor level of the Grotto and leading to the Spanish Room, which when discovered bore indications of having been occupied by a human being who had tried to escape by tunneling, or by reaching a hole in the roof; which is said to be impossible for him to have done without outside assistance. As no bones have been found we may hope the assistance arrived in time. When the discovery of the room was made, a quantity of loose rock was piled before the entrance, so if he ever escaped it was not by that way.

After crawling back to the Corridor, through the same small, but dry passage of seventy feet length, we saw a narrow ledge of fine crystals, a deposit of Epsom salts, and a few bats that in the dim light looked white but are a light tan color with brown wings. A good specimen hanging on a projecting ledge of the wall remained undisturbed by us and our lights, giving an opportunity for careful inspection so that we presently discovered it to be a mummy; which naturally suggests that this portion of the cave, being dry and opening out of the great temple-like Auditorium as an alcove, could be converted into an imposing crypt.

Making our way across the room to its southwest extremity over a varied assortment of bowlders and down a drop of eight or ten feet, we crawled into another tight-fitting dry passage lined with beautiful glittering onyx like clear ice banded with narrow lines of red, of which broken fragments covered the narrow floor and made a dazzling, but distressingly painful rug to crawl over. This is the West Passage and leads to the Grand Crevice, of which only a small portion has been surveyed; midway of the passage are the Epsom Rooms, two in number, and well supplied with epsomite or native Epsom salts; this is sometimes called the Windy Passage, on account of a rushing current of air met suddenly at the first bend and, no doubt, due to the meeting here of fresh air coming in from the outside with that chemically changed in the Epsom Rooms.

The cave contains a great many dangerous places, as we correctly surmised on the morning of our introduction; when Mr. Powell's blessing on the breakfast was lost in so fervent a prayer for the safe and successful accomplishment of our undertaking, it seemed inconsiderate not to present the reassuring appearance of inexhaustible endurance.

In the Corridor can be seen one of the three old Spanish ladders found in the cave when it was rediscovered; but when and for what purpose the Spaniards used the cave there seems to be no means of finding out. It should be remembered that this part of the United States was occupied first by the Spaniards and then by the French, and is a portion of the Louisiana Purchase, a tract of 897,931 square miles, or 70,000 square miles more than the original thirteen states. The price asked and paid was $12,000,000 and the assumption of claims which citizens of this country had against the French Government for about $3,750,000 more. The French offered to make the sale on account of being thoroughly discouraged with constant troubles arising with the Indians, whom they had decided it would be impossible to persuade or compel to recognize any laws other than those established by each tribe for itself, or accepted by friendly treaty with the council and disregarded by individuals on both sides:--and the United States accepted the offer, not for any expected value in the land, but for the unrestricted navigation of the Mississippi River. Therefore Missouri was never under British rule and never changed hands by force of arms.

But to return to the Spanish ladder, it is a tall pine tree notched on the sides for steps, and the stump of a branch left or a peg inserted at considerable intervals, for hand supports to assist in raising the weight of the body.

Returning to the Auditorium, we entered a passage behind the Great White Throne and started on what might well be called the Water Route, for no dry spot is touched on the round trip; but if one goes prepared for such a journey it is well worth the effort and the mud. If the visitor is a man, the suit worn should be one he is ready to part with, or overalls; ladies receive the same advice even to the overalls, as some of the most beautiful portions of the cave, which we failed to see, can be visited only in that objectionable costume. To visit any cave comfortably a short dress is necessary and if any thing like a thorough knowledge of the ramifications is desired, the unavoidable climbing will soon prove the superior claims of a divided skirt; but if it is properly made, only the wearer need be conscious of the divide. Rubber boots and water-proof protection for the head and shoulders complete a costume that is not exactly an artistic creation, unless our ideas of art have been gathered in the school of Socrates, but it is suited to the requirements of the occasion and makes the explorations far more easy and profitable than they otherwise could be.

The passage back of the White Throne is called the Serpentine Passage, and most of it is sufficiently high for traveling in an erect position; yet there are several places that require crawling. The first stopping point is the Gulf of Doom Room, or as it is also known, the Register Room, because here visitors usually write their names in the peculiar dark red clay, which is moist but firm and cuts with a polish. This room is twenty-five feet high and fifty feet wide, and looks off into the Gulf of Doom, which seems rightly named when a rock is thrown into it and you note the lapse of time before any sound returns; and when the awful Gulf is made visible by lights thrown in, one involuntarily seeks a firmer footing and clings to a projecting rock. The height of the Gulf is ninety-five feet and the distant sound of falling water is not reassuring. The walls are not smoothly worn away, but have the rough and weird appearance of having been torn by a torrent in a narrow mountain gorge, and are stained with the dark clay.

Retracing our steps a short distance, if that style of locomotion could be called steps, we turned into Doré's Gallery, and surely that artist was in his usual working mood when he conceived this awful method of connecting the upper regions with the lower. Great bowlders have fallen down without helping to fill the black holes that received them, and into this real Inferno we proceeded to descend by narrow, ladder-like stairs provided with a light hand rail, and trembling slightly with the responsibility they assumed. If any one's courage trembled too, no notice was taken of it, and a record of exploring experiences does not necessarily include a confession of any doubts.

On all the ladders in this Gallery was a fine white fungus growth in the form of a thick, heavy mold, that the lightest touch destroyed. In caves where some care is taken to protect this mold, it attains a growth of six or more feet and assumes the forms of sea-weed.

Once down the first and longest flight of stairs, without any signs of a Doré dragon raising its huge body by heavy claws to a resting place among the rocks, awe divides more evenly with admiration; and being already well besmeared with mud, we climbed over the clay-covered bowlders and crawled through narrow holes with perfect satisfaction, enjoying each novel scene to the utmost.

Off from the Doré Gallery is a small chamber containing the Fountain of Youth, that must be seen, but the way, like that of the transgressor, is hard. Arrived at the entrance we hesitated a moment, for although getting in looked possible, the way out again seemed not so simple; but finally trusting to Providence, through the direct agency of our careful guardians, of course, we sat down on the edge of the large slippery bowlder on which we stood, and reaching out caught a projection of the wall on one side and a bowlder crag on the other, swung off and dropped into the soft mud below. This chamber proved to be a little gem; small but high, and beautifully adorned with calcite crystal. Down a wall of red onyx on one side clear water flows into a basin in the irregular, rocky floor, just behind the bowlder we had used for a hand-rest at the entrance; the perfectly transparent water in the basin appears to be only a few inches deep, but measures three feet, and is several degrees colder than the air, which in this portion of the cave is warm. The other wall of this room is an almost perpendicular bank of the soft dark red clay, in which small selenite crystals are sprouting like plants in a garden.

Suddenly we heard a heavy, rolling noise like distant thunder, and asking if it were possible to hear a thunder storm so far below the surface, were told it was the protest of angry bats against a further advance on the quarters to which they have retreated from the main body of the cave, and their orders were obeyed: so of what may be in that direction, we gained no positive knowledge besides bats, and the fact that, small as they are, their great numbers make them dangerous when angry. Returning to the gallery and continuing the journey down over slippery rock and slender ladders we came at length to the bottom of the Gulf of Doom, into which we had looked from the room now high above us; and we needed no stimulating help to the imagination to pronounce it a fit termination to an artist's troubled dream.

Then climbing over an assortment of bowlders of all sizes, going up a little, and swinging or sliding down, we came to a point in the narrow passage where the floor is a flat slab, like a large paving stone, tilted up at a steep angle against one wall and not reaching the other by about fifteen inches, with darkness of unknown depth below: about three feet above this opening the wall projects in a narrow, shelving ledge, and everything is covered with a thin coating of slippery wet clay. The only way to cross that uninviting bridge is to brace the feet against the slab, and leaning on the ledge, slowly work across. A little more rough work and the descent of the two short ladders, brought us, at last, under the beautiful Waterfall, where we stood as in a heavy shower of rain at the lowest point yet reached in the cave, which according to the survey of Mr. Prince is four hundred feet below the surface. The falling water has ornamented the walls, which in this portion of the cave expose over two hundred feet of Magnesian Limestone, with unique forms of dripstone; and the steeply sloping floor has received the over-charge of calcium carbonate until it has become a shining mass of onyx, retaining pools of cold, transparent water in the depressions. In the lowest corner there is only mud, and above it rises, to a height of at least fifteen feet a bank of miry, yellow clay, at the top of which a hole in the wall is the only known entrance to Blondy's Throne.