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Returning again to the Grand Gallery,
and pursuing the majestic curve it makes at
the place of the Steamboat, we find it presently
taking another and more abrupt sweep
to the left, still wide, lofty, and impressive.
In the angle here made, we see the opening
into another cave,—the Sick Room,—which,
running back, and under the Haunted Chambers,
terminates at last under the Grand
Gallery near the Church, where was originally
another outlet, now covered over with
rubbish.

The visiter has now before him a walk of a

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thousand yards; which having accomplished,
he will perhaps lay aside his enthusiasm for
a moment, to wonder how he is ever to get
back again. Throughout the whole of this
distance, the floor of the cave is strown over
with loose rocks,—flakes from the ceiling
and crags from the wall,—of all imaginable
sizes and shapes, over which the labour of
trudging, at least at the pace the guide holds
most agreeable, is inconceivably great; while
a certain natural anxiety to avoid tumbling
into the numberless gaps betwixt the huge
rough blocks, and to step upon the slabs,
which eternally see-saw under your feet, precisely
at the point that will enable you to
preserve your equilibrium, adds greatly to
your distresses; while, at the same time, it prevents
your taking any note of the grandeur
around, except when the guide occasionally
pauses to point out some remarkable object,—
the Keel-boat, (a tremendous rock sixty or
seventy feet long, fifteen wide, and depth unknown.)—
the Devil's Looking-Glass, (which
is a hugh plate of stone standing erect,)—the
Snow Room, (where even a lusty halloo
brings down from the ceiling a shower of
saline flakes, as white and beautiful almost
as those of snow itself,)—and other such

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curiosities. In another visit, he will perhaps
show you what you did not before suspect, that
you have passed many different openings in
the left wall, running into caves called the Side
Cuts, in consequence of all of them winding
back again into the Grand Gallery. In one
of them is a perforation,—the Black Hole,—
leading into the Deserted Chambers, forming
the third entrance to those wild and dreary
vaults. Throughout the whole of this space
of a thousand yards, the Grand Gallery is
worthy of its name, being uniformly of the
grandest dimensions and aspect. In two
places, the rocks covering the floor are of
such vast size, and lie heaped in such singular
confusion, that fancy has traced in them
a resemblance to the ruins of demolished
cities, Troglodytic Luxors, and Palmyras;
and they bear the names of the First and
Second Cities.

But we have accomplished the thousand
yards, the guide pauses to give us rest; we
have reached a new region, we look upon a
new spectacle; we are in the Cross Rooms,
(so called,) at the entrance of the Black
Chambers. A wilder, sublimer scene imagination
could scarcely paint; even Martin
might here take a lesson in the grand and

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terrible. The Grand Gallery, previously contracted,
in a short bend, to a width of thirty
or forty feet, suddenly expands to the width
of more than a hundred, which it preserves
throughout a length of five hundred feet. Midway
of this noble hall, on the left hand, running
at right angles with it, is seen another
apartment, a hundred and fifty feet wide, and,
measuring from its opening, more than two
hundred long; or, if we add to it the width of
the Grand Gallery, three hundred feet long;
the two rooms thus uniting into one in the
shape of the letter T. The whole of this prodigious
area is strown with rocks of enormous
size, tumbled together in a manner that cannot
be described, and looking, especially in
the transeptal portion, where confusion is by
them worse confounded, like the ruins of some
old castle of the Demi-gods, too ponderous
to stand, yet too massive to decay. This
apartment is bounded, or rather divided, at
what seems its end, by ragged cliffs forming
a kind of very large island, into two branches,
through both of which, clambering aloft
among the rugged blocks and up two crannies,
called the Chimneys, very irregular and
bewildering, you can penetrate into the Black
Chambers above. The whole extent of these

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chambers, which are black and dismal, as
their name denotes, does not exceed six or
seven hundred yards; and there is nothing
in them, though they contain several domes
arched over mountains of fallen sandstone,
with a few stalactites and clusters of crystals
here and there, to compare in interest with
their entrance. The greatest curiosities, perhaps,
are four or five piles of stones looking
like rude altars, and so denominated, left
thus heaped up by the Autochthones of the
cave; though for what purpose it is difficult
to imagine.

The entrance into these Black Chambers
by the Chimneys, however narrow and contorted
they may be, is not very difficult; but
the exit is quite another matter. There are
as many chaotic rocks around the tops of the
Chimneys in the chambers above, as at the
bottom; and it is sometimes no easy task to
find them; the more particularly as there are
dozens of other holes exactly like them,
though leading to nothing. Even the guides
themselves are sometimes for a moment at
fault. Some years since two young gentlemen
of the West were conducted into the
Black Chambers, whence, in due course of
time, they proposed to return to the Grand

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Gallery; a feat, however, as they soon discovered
to their horror, which it was much
easier to propose than perform. The guide,
who happened not to be very familiar with
this branch of the cave, looked and looked
in vain, for the Chimneys. Not one could he
find. He began to think that while he had
been with the party at the extreme verge of
the Chambers, the rocks must have fallen
down, and sealed up the two passages. Here
was a situation; and, soon there was a scene.
The young gentlemen became frantic; and,
declaring they would sooner die on the spot
than endure their horrible imprisonment longer,
condemned to agonize out existence by
inches, they drew their pistols—with which,
like true American travellers, they were both
well provided—resolving at once to end the
catastrophe. The only difficulty was a question
that occurred, whether each should do
execution upon himself by blowing his own
brains out, or whether, devoted to friendship
even in death, each should do that office for
the other. Fortunately, before the difficulty
was settled, the guide stumbled upon one of
the Chimneys, and blood and gunpowder were
both saved.

The danger of being entrapped in these

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dens is perhaps as great as ever; but such an
accident can only happen where the guide,
besides being inexperienced, is of a temper to
take alarm, or become confused at an unexpected
difficulty. In all intricate passages
throughout the cave, and in many that are
not intricate, the rocks are marked with broad
arrows pointing the way out. A piece of
chalk—or, to be correct, of decomposing limestone—
caught up along the way, makes an intelligible
record on the black rocks of the path;
and explo ers at first, and after them superphilanthropic
visiters, have taken care these
marks shall be in abundance. The rocks at
the Chimneys have their share of arrows, and
a man with good eyes and a philosophic temperament
will find little difficulty in making
his way in and out.

In the right-hand wall of the Grand Gallery,
directly opposite the Black Chambers, is
the opening of another vault, (whence the
name of Cross Rooms,) called Fox's Hall. It
runs backward, and after a course of four or
five hundred feet, returns to the Grand Gallery.

From the Black Chambers to what may be
properly considered the termination of the
Grand Gallery, is a distance of only two or

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three hundred yards. During a part of this
space, the path is very narrow, running between
rudely piled, but high walls of loose
stones, thrown up by the ancient inhabitants,
for a purpose they doubtless understood themselves,
though it will not seem very obvious
to the modern visiter. The passage, however,
soon widens again; and presently we hear
the far-off murmur of a waterfall, whose wild
pattering sound, like that of a heavy rain, but
modified almost to music by theringing echoes
of the cave, grows louder as we approach,
and guides us to the end of the Grand Gallery.
We find ourselves on the verge of a
steep stony descent, a hollow running across
the cave from right to left, bounded on the
further side by a solid wall extending from
the bottom of the descent up to the roof, in
which it is lost. In the roof, at the right hand
corner are several perforations as big as hogs-heads,
from which water is ever falling—on
ordinary occasions, in no great quantities, but
after heavy rains, in torrents, and with a horrible
roar that shakes the walls, and resounds
afar through the cave. It is at such times
that these cascades are worthy the name of
Cataracts, which they bear. The water falling
into the hollow below, immediately

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vanishes among the rocks. In fact, this hollow is
the mouth of a great pit, loosely filled in with
stones, which have not even the merit of being
lodged securely. A huge mass of rocks fell,
some years ago, from the little domes of the
cataracts, almost filling that corner of the
hollow; but they speedily crushed their way
down to the original level. On another occasion,
some visiters tumbling a big rock into
the hollow on the left hand, the crash set all
below in commotion, causing a considerable
sinking in that quarter.

Over this portion of the hollow—that is,
on the left hand—high up in the wall that
bounds the passage, the visiter dimly discerns
an opening, behind which, listening attentively,
he can hear the pattering of another
cascade. Descending into the hollow and
clambering up a mound of stones by way of
ladder, we make our way into this opening—
the Garret-hole—and find ourselves between
two hollows—the one we have just
crossed, and a second—forming part of a concealed
chamber of no great extent—into
which, from a barrel-like dome above, falls
the Second Cataract. Opposite to this Second
Cataract, at the bottom of the wall, (which is,
however, some twelve or fifteen feet above

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the bottom of the hollow,) is a horizontal fissure,
ten or fifteen feet wide, but so low as
only to permit a man lying flat on his face to
enter it. But through that narrow fissure—
the Humble Chute—and in that grovelling position,
we must pass, if we would visit the
Solitary Cave; a branch only discovered within
a few years. Indeed, if we can believe the
guide, our little party was the first that ever
entered it; for though the fissure had been
often observed, and it was thought might lead
to a new branch, neither himself nor any
other individual had ever attempted to crawl
through it. It is, in truth, somewhat of a awe-inspiring
appearance, looking like one of
Milton's

“Rifted rocks whose entrance leads to Hell;”

Crawling along on our faces for a hundred
feet or more, we found ourselves at last in
more comfortable quarters, in a cave neither
very wide nor high, nor indeed extensive; the
greatest length of the main passage not exceeding
seven hundred yards, but curious for
the dens and grotesque figures worn in the

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rocks by water, and for its recent stalactites,
of which there is quite a grove in the chamber
called the Fairy Grotto. The Island—
or Boone's Castle, as it is more poetically
called—is a very curious rock supporting the
roof in manner of a pier, but excavated
through and through in several directions, so
as to make a little room, in which you may
sit at ease, looking out into the cave by sundry
wide, window-like orifices in its walls.
From the main passage run several narrower
branches, some of which have not yet been
explored. In one of them was found a kind
of nest composed of sticks, moss, and leaves,
with, I believe, a walnut or two in it—supposed
to be a rat's nest, floated thither from
some unknown higher branch; and in another
passage was found a tooth resembling a
beaver's. In one of the passages, called the
Coral-grove Branch, is a deep pit, suspected,
upon pretty strong grounds, to have some
underhand kind of communication with the
Cataracts, which are at no great distance;
and, indeed, from an occurrence that happened
some few months after the discovery of
the Solitary Cave, this communication can
hardly be questioned. One of the younger
guides, at the time mentioned, had conducted

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a visiter into the Solitary Cave, where they
employed themselves looking for new branches
at its extremity. It was a winter's day,
very stormy; and rain was falling, when they
entered the cave. The Cataracts were found
pouring down water rather more freely than
usual, but not in quantities to excite any
alarm; and they crawled through the Humble
Chute, and to the farthest recesses of the
branch, without giving them a thought. In
these remote vaults, as indeed in all others
throughout the cave, except in the immediate
vicinity of falling water, a death-like silence
perpetually reigns: of course, a sound of
any kind occurring, immediately attracts attention,
if it does not cause dismay. I can
well remember the thrilling effect produced
upon myself and companions, when first exploring
the Solitary Cave, by a low, hollow,
but very distant sound we heard once or
twice repeated, which we supposed was
caused by the falling of rocks in chambers
far beneath—a phenomenon, however, as it
seems, of very rare occurrence. The visiter
and his guide, of whom I speak, were startled
from their tranquillity by a more formidable
noise—a sudden rumbling and roaring, distant
indeed, but loud enough to produce

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consternation. They retraced their steps as
rapidly as they could. The noise increased
as they advanced; and by and by, when they
reached the mouth of the Coral-grove Branch,
which is two hundred yards from the Humble
Chute, they found it full of water, and pouring
out a flood into the Solitary Cave, here,
at its lowest level. They hurried by, astounded
and affrighted, yet rejoiced to find the
water was not rushing into the cave through
the Humble Chute, which would have effectually
cut off their escape. It was no longer
to be doubted that a torrent, a result of the
rains, was now pouring down the Cataracts,
especially the second one, immediately opposite
the outlet of the Humble Chute; its terrific
din made that more than evident; and it
was questioned whether the body of falling
water might not fill the narrow passage into
which the Solitary Cave opens, and so prevent
their further retreat. But the occasion
was pressing; time was too precious to be
wasted in hesitation. The guide crept up
the Chute, and reached its outlet, where he
was saluted by a flood of spray that immediately
extinguished his torch. He perceived,
however, that the path was still open to the
Garret Hole, which if he could reach, there

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was little fear of himself and companion dying
the death of drowned rats. His torch
proving insufficient to resist the spray and
eddies of air caused by the cascade, he crept
a little back into the Chute, where he manfully
substituted his shirt for the torch; and
with that flaming in his hands, making a gallant
rush, he succeeded in reaching the Garret
Hole; whence, lighting his torch again, it
was afterwards not very difficult to assist in
extricating his companion. The Solitary
Cave was visited again, a few days after: the
floods had then entirely subsided, and the
Cataracts dwindled to their former insignificance,
leaving no vestige of the late scene of
disorder and terror.

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