CHAPTER XX.

A TRIP TO MAMMOTH CAVE.

One evening, shortly after the examination, Fannie said to her father: "Papa, I want to invite the club for a last meeting before Ernestine leaves us. I wish I could have something in the way of a treat different from anything we have had."

"I don't know about that. Your mother is so busy getting ready for the summer, and we are going away so soon, that I hardly see how we can arrange it."

Fannie looked at her father in blank dismay. But he went on unmoved:

"In fact, Fannie, I have been thinking that these meetings, as you call them, are becoming somewhat monotonous." (Fannie's eyes opened wide.) "No, I don't think we can have it at all."

This was too much, and Fannie's speechless indignation found voice: "Papa Allen, I didn't think this of you!" Then, seeing the well-known twinkle in his eyes, she perched herself on his knee and said, "Now, papa, what are you up to?"

"Well, as the immortal Peter Pindar says, as reported by McGuffey, 'I love to please good children,' and as you have all been 'kind and civil,' I have concluded to give you what I call a grand treat. So prepare for a shock."

"Go ahead, papa. I'm not afraid of it at all; what I was afraid of was--none."

"Well, what do you say to my taking all of you, the whole company of warriors, to Mammoth Cave?"

Fannie sprang from his knee and fairly danced around the room for joy. Then she quieted herself and said, "When, papa?"

"Just before the Fourth, I think. Your mother and I will go, and possibly Ernestine's uncle, who will be here by that time; and I thought we might invite 'Miss Kitty,' of whom I have heard so much."

So it came about that on a warm afternoon in July, a party of eight, escorted to the boat by several friends, ascended the narrow staircase of the steamboat, and made themselves comfortable on deck until the "All aboard!" was heard, when the escort hurried down the stairs to the wharf.

When the boat had floated entirely out of sight of the waving handkerchiefs of their friends, the party, taking their hand luggage, went into the cabin to find their staterooms and deposit their belongings. They had four staterooms in all. Fannie and Miriam occupied one communicating with that of Fannie's parents; and Ernestine, Gretta, Winnie and her Aunt Kitty had another similar suite. This duty over, they went on deck to enjoy the sweet, fresh air from the river and the beautiful scenery along its banks.

Just after the short landing which had been made at Lawrenceburg, supper was called, and they were all ready to respond. The colored waiters were delighted to find such a party of young girls, and served them with the utmost alacrity, anticipating every want in a delightful manner.

After supper they sat on deck till long after dark. Mr. Allen and Mr. Van Orten were exchanging reminiscences of their college days; and later, joined by Mrs. Allen, of summers passed at beautiful Lake George and in the White Mountains. To all of this the remainder of the party listened with absorbing interest. However, the air, which had first given them so good an appetite for supper, now made them sleepy, so that by ten o'clock the girls had all climbed into their narrow berths and were soon sound asleep.

They had breakfast on the boat, so were ready to continue their journey by rail without interruption. After a pleasant ride through a picturesque country they reached Cave City, where they were transferred to a tram--an engine and one coach--which took them first up and then down hill over a road cut right through the woods, so that in some places the trees almost interlaced over the top of the coach. It was most delightful to all the party, and would have been only too short had it not been for what was to follow. It formed a fit introduction to the sublime and wonderful results of Nature's long and patient work which they were to see. Therefore, in spite of the novelty and beauty, they were glad to reach the hotel, a long, rambling, wooden building, so unlike anything the girls had ever before seen that the short stay within its quaint rooms, with their bare floors and whitewashed walls, was in itself an experience long to be remembered.

After a night's refreshing sleep they were ready to start out bright and early for the first day's adventures. With many girlish giggles they arrayed themselves in the costumes provided by the Cave management--the short woolen skirts and loose blouses carrying with them a delightfully free and unconventional feeling--and then, at the sound of the gong, set forth with their guide; Mr. and Mrs. Allen in the lead, close behind them Miss Kitty and Miriam, next Fannie and Gretta, then Ernestine with one hand locked in that of her uncle and the other tightly holding Winnie's fingers, while the interesting and friendly dog, "Brigham,"--so called, the guide explained, because he was no longer young--divided his attentions between them, but seemed most inclined to make friends with Miss Kitty, who was accused of having a piece of meat in her pocket as the only way to account for her mysterious fascination for his dogship.

They had a short but beautiful walk through the fern-decorated woods, down a steep path, over a little bridge, till they found themselves on a stone platform directly in front of an enormous opening in the hill, a natural arch overhung with trees, rocks, ferns and wild-flowers--a sight never to be forgotten, so wonderfully beautiful and grand was it--and the party stepped back to admire it.

When they went forward again in order to enter, they saw that what was an arch above was a gaping chasm below, which looked ready to swallow them, and down which there seemed no way to go except to fall headlong. Their guide watched their dismay with amusement, but presently Miriam discovered a narrow flight of steps cut out of the solid rock. Down these they went, shaded by the trees, under the sparkling cascade, beneath the black, overhanging rock, winding their way along to where the last bit of daylight is swallowed up, and then, with various kinds of sensations, watched the guide unlock the iron gate through which they were to pass on their way to the mysterious region of the nether world. As they took their lamps and the gate closed behind them with a clang, Miriam confided to Miss Kitty that she felt little shivers running up and down her back.

As the darkness became more intense, Winnie slipped away from Ernestine to her Aunt Kitty, whose hand she seized with a breath of relief, as if feeling safer there; and Gretta and Fannie clung closely together.

As they advanced, the sense of mystery increased, and for a minute the girls huddled together in a bunch. Brigham, however, sniffed once more--a little contemptuously, according to Miss Kitty--and then ran ahead on side trips of his own, returning to the party from time to time as if to reassure them that everything was all right and they might place implicit confidence in his knowledge of the Cave and his friendship for them.

Their first stop was made in the Rotunda in order to examine the saltpeter vats, in which Ernestine, in keeping with her liking for history, was much interested when she heard that the saltpeter made here was taken to Philadelphia to be used in the manufacture of gunpowder during the war of 1812.

Presently they entered Methodist Hall--so named, as they were assured by their guide, "because it's a heap too dry for the Baptis'." In this place was the natural pulpit from which--so tradition says--Booth once delivered Hamlet's soliloquy.

Next they came to Gothic Avenue, where their way lay along piles of stone erected by admirers of famous men, States, and so on. There was one little pile which seemed to have been neglected, and Miss Kitty asked whose it was. On being told that it was the Old Maid's Monument, she exclaimed: "I shall find nothing nearer my heart!" and, picking up a stone, carefully balanced it on the top of the pile. But in spite of her care, it rolled off. "That's a shore sign, Miss, that you ain't gwine to be a ole maid."

"Can it be!" she said, as the elders of the company laughingly congratulated her. "Once more I feel a breath of hope."

By and by they reached Register Hall, which has been aptly described as a huge autograph album, for on its ceiling, smoked by burning candles, can be found names and addresses from all parts of the world, while address cards are placed in numberless nooks and crevices. Here Gretta sat in the arm-chair in which, so it is said, Jenny Lind once sat and sang.

The next thing which pleased all of them, and particularly Fannie, was the water clock--a tick-tock sound made by the dropping of a little stream of water into a pool below--and they all laughed at William when he said, "But it ain't a eight-day clock, because it runs down every twenty-four hours."

When they saw the Giant's Coffin they looked upon it with awe--for it was a gruesome sight enough--until Mr. Allen said in a loud aside to Mr. Van Orten:

"This is the coffin in which the Warrior Maidens deposit the bodies of their victims."

Mrs. Allen smiled faintly, but Miss Kitty--more at Mr. Van Orten's puzzled expression than at the speech itself--laughed outright. Winnie and Ernestine had not heard, and Gretta hardly knew whether to laugh or be offended, until Fannie and Miriam, catching the joke, re-echoed Miss Kitty's laugh.

From a crevice behind the Giant's Coffin they went slipping and sliding down an incline, and then up and down, till they came to a small, round opening in what seemed to be a solid wall. "Stay here," said the guide; and he disappeared through the hole with his lights. Then he called to them, and, peering through the aperture, they found it to be a natural window opening into a great, beautiful chamber--Gorin's Dome, considered by many, said the guide, to be the finest room in the Cave, with its immense extent, measuring two hundred feet from floor to ceiling, and covering an entire acre of space.

From here they went to the pits, and, standing on the Bridge of Sighs, a lowered ball of flame showed them that they were directly suspended over the deepest, known as the Bottomless Pit. Winnie and Gretta caught their breath quickly, and Ernestine's hand tightened on her uncle's arm; indeed, the whole party was glad to get away from that dangerous spot.

The next place visited, however, made up to them for any amount of hard travel or moment of terror. Having retraced their steps till they came to the original passage, they went on for some distance until told by their guide to rest for a moment on a convenient stone seat, and wait there until he called to them. He then took away all of their lamps and disappeared. For a moment they felt the darkness something frightful, but before it had lasted long enough to be painful, they saw a vision overhead of numberless stars shining down upon them from a cloudless dome.

That which for one moment in the darkness had almost provoked a cry of terror from more than one of the party, became a cry of delight; and then Mrs. Allen wondered aloud how they could see the stars so far below the surface of the earth. But even as she spoke, the scene changed. They no longer saw a clear sky, but the stars disappeared behind heavy clouds, and then they were again in that indescribably awful darkness. But gradually a soft light was seen, and they heard the bleating of sheep and the lowing of cattle as they wake in the early dawn. "Beautiful! Beautiful!" they said, and were almost sorry when they found out that these sounds were produced by their guide, who turned out to be something of a ventriloquist, and that the stars and rosy dawn are but optical illusions called forth by skillful manipulation of the light thrown on the crystals which sparkle in the dome with its coating of black oxide of manganese.

From here they wended their way back, followed by Brigham, who had waited for them on the road to the Star Chamber, feeling that they had experienced and seen enough for one day.

They rested all that day and the next, doing nothing that required more exertion than short walks through the woods or promenades along the wide galleries which surrounded both stories of the hotel. Here they swung hammocks, and rested in the open air between their little walks.

But on the third day all the members of the party again set out for the Cave, starting in the morning, for they were warned that going and returning it would be a sixteen-mile walk. Presently they found that the road they had taken on the previous day diverged, and soon they were going through the Valley of Humility leading into Fat Man's Misery, a place but eighteen inches wide, five feet high, and changing direction eight times. Through the one hundred and five yards of this place they twisted and crawled, until they reached Great Relief. Here they stopped to congratulate Mrs. Allen, the stoutest of the party, and Mr. Van Orten, the tallest, on having successfully passed this ordeal.

On again, now ascending a flight of stairs to a higher gallery, now descending to one below, always surprised at finding the immense columns piercing through from the highest galleries down to the very lowest of the five levels of the Cave. They passed through Bacon Chamber--which Winnie did not think at all "romantic"--and through various winding passages, to River Hall, where all the waters of the Cave collect, and where they gazed with awe on the deep lakes. Then they came to the Dead Sea, surrounded on all sides by massive cliffs, from which they descended by means of a stairway to the banks of the River Styx, which the party crossed by a natural bridge to Lake Lethe; then along the Great Walk, with its fine, yellow sand, to Echo River. Here they found a boat waiting for them, and, embarking, were paddled along over the clear water--thirty feet deep--singing, whistling, and shouting to waken the echoes from the rocky walls on either side, until it seemed--so Miss Kitty said--as if "Echo had been transferred from her former mountain home, with all her nymphs."

But no, it was not the Mountain Echo, but her unknown sister who dwelt in these underground regions, as their guide proved to them by striking the long vault with his cane; for it had its own keynote, which excited harmonies of wonderful depth and sweetness, each sound being prolonged many seconds.

Here, too, they saw the eyeless fish, and Gretta even went the length of pitying them, until Miss Kitty told her that, as they were not "fish with little lanterns on their tails,"--which she had once heard given as an explanation of some phosphorescent phenomenon on an ocean trip--and so could not see in those dark waters even if they had eyes, she need not waste her pity.

Soon they reached Washington Hall, and perceived a waiter, who had been following them at a distance, emerge from the gloom, bringing with him a great basket of lunch. This was a pleasant surprise, and they partook heartily of the generous repast, unmoved for the time by their gnome-like surroundings in the semi-darkness of this great chamber, so dimly lighted by the various lanterns and torches.

Beyond this place they found the crystalline gardens, where the crystals take the form of flowers and vines, and even grapes--as in Mary's Vineyard--and later they came upon a snowstorm in a chamber so thickly covered with snowy crystals that they were made to fall like flakes by a loud concussion of the air.

And so they proceeded on their journey and came to the Corkscrew. After a brief consultation, they decided to take this short cut out of the Cave, instead of going over what is now somewhat familiar ground. So up they climbed, partly by means of the three ladders, now through cracks, again over huge boulders scattered here and there in wild confusion, now twisting up through round holes--five hundred feet of climbing, although they were assured by their guide that the vertical distance was only one hundred and fifty feet.

At last they emerged on the edge of a cliff just over the main cave, and, as they stopped to take breath, wondered for a moment if they were in another Star Chamber, for the stars were shining bright above them! But no; this time it was no illusion, for though they had left the bright sunlight behind them when they made the descent into the lantern-lighted darkness, they had been all day in the cave, and were indeed glad that they had saved the mile and a half walk by their ascent through the Corkscrew.

Altogether it was a trip long to be remembered; the more so that, at its close, when they were all back in "dear, old, smoky Cincinnati," as Miss Kitty fondly called it, came the first parting of the ways for the Warrior Maidens. Not the ordinary summer parting, but one which entirely changed the parallel grooves in which their lives had been running, at least for one of them, for Ernestine was to go home with her uncle to New York. The whole Burton family had become so attached to her that they would gladly have kept her with them as a much-loved member of their circle, necessary not only to their happiness but to their comfort, and Ralph expressed his opinion that Ernie's uncle was a bad, bad man.

But, while in compliance with his sister's wish, expressed to Mr. Allen on that day on which Mrs. Alroy had sent for him, he had waited for the end of the school year before coming for his niece, he was now only too impatient to take to her kindred the lovely child--the last living link between their family and the sister whom he and his brothers had so loved and so mourned.

And so, one bright morning in July, the little company, each wearing her badge of warriorhood, went to the station to see their dear friend start on her journey. There were tearful faces on the outside of the car, and a pale but earnest and loving face hidden behind a handkerchief on the inside, as the train slowly moved out of the station.