Natural 



News. 



VOL. IT. No. 3. 



ALBION, N. Y., FEBKUAEY 15, 1896. 



Weekly, $1.00 a Year 



Natural Science News. 



A Weekly Journal Devoted to 

 Natural History. 



FRANK H. LATTIN, Editor and Publisher, 

 ALBION, N. Y. 



Correspondence and Items or interest to the 

 student of any of the various branches of the 

 Natural Sciences solicited from all. 



TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. 



Price, One Dollar a Year. 



To Foreign Countries In the Universal Postal 

 Onion, $1.50, equal to 6 s., or 6 marks, or 8 francs. 

 Single copies, ft cents each. 



Subscriptions can begin with any number. 



Remittances should be made by Draft, Express 

 or Post Office Money order, or Registered Letter. 

 Unused U S. Postage stamps of any denomina 

 tlon will be accepted for fractional parts of a dol- 

 lar. Make Money Orders and Drafts payable, 

 and address all subscriptions and communica- 

 tions to FRANK H. LATTIN, 

 Albion. Orleans Co.. N. Y, 



Entered at Albion P. O. as 2nd lass mull matter 



Mammoth Cave. 



(continued. ) 



Audubon's Avenue lies nearest 

 the entrance. It is chiefly noted 

 for its myriad of bats, and for the 

 fact that it leads to an opening in- 

 to which a miner dropped his lamp 

 in 1812. *"Mat, the guide, found it 

 thirty years afterward at the bot- 

 tom of Mammoth Dome. 



The Gothic Arcade is approach- 

 ed by a stairway from galleries be- 

 yond the saltpetre vats. The 

 chapel in the Gothic Arcade has an 

 arched roof supported by large sta- 

 lagmitic columns, once beautiful 

 but now sullied by sacrilegious 

 smoke. I counted eight and found 

 fragments of about thirty more. 

 The growth was slow, requiring 

 many centuries to develop their 

 present dimensions. Three of the 

 pillars are so grouped as to form 

 two Gothic arches. Before this 

 unique alter once stood a runaway 

 bride, who had promised her anx- 

 ious mother that she would "never 

 marry any man on the face of the 

 earth," She kept the letter of her 

 promise, but was married after all 

 to the man of her choice in this 

 novel Gretna Green. We were 

 fortunate in witnessing a similar 

 scene, another of which is to be 

 enacted this fall by a romantic 

 young couple. 



This avenue is about two miles 

 long, and abounds in grotesque cu- 

 riosities. It ends in Annette's 

 Dome, where a cascade surprises 

 one by bursting from the wall and 

 then disappearing. Lake Purity, 

 near by, is a shallow pool of such 



transparency that we did not sus- 

 pect its existence until we walked 

 into it. 



Retracing our steps, we soon ap- 

 proach a region of pits and domes. 

 The guide warns us of "danger on 

 the right!" Beside our path yawns 

 a chasm called the Side-saddle Pit, 

 from the shape of a projecting 

 rock, on which we seat ourselves 

 and watch with fearful interest the 

 robs of oiled paper lighted by the 

 guide and dropped into the abyss. 

 Down they go in a fiery spiral, 

 burning long enough to give us a 

 view of its corrugated sides and a 

 mass of blackened sticks and tim- 

 bers a hundred feet below, rem- 

 nants of a bridge once spanning 

 the chasm. 



The Bottomless Pit, a short dis- 

 tance beyond, is on a still grander 

 scale, and extending, as it does, 

 entirely across the avenue, was 

 long an effectual bar to further 

 progress. It is now spanned by a 

 substantial bridge, which, for the 

 sake of perfect safety, is renewed 

 every year. Leaning over the hand- 

 rails, we safely admired the blaz- 

 ing rolls as they winded to and fro, 

 slowly sinking one hundred and 

 seventy-five feet, lighting up the 

 wrinkles and furrows made by the 

 torrent's flow during untold ages. 

 Shelby's Dome overhead is but a 

 continuation of the great pit up- 

 ward, with rich water-carved scroll- 

 work and lavishly decorated panels, 

 and here and there a sharp projec- 

 tion. 



Turning abrubtly back, we fol- 

 low the guide up and down narrow 

 stairways and through a winding 

 passage, till we find ourselves peer- 

 ing through a window-like aper- 

 ture into profound darkness, that 

 seems intensified by the monoto- 

 nous sound of dripping water. The 

 guide bids us remain where we are 

 while he seeks a smaller and high- 

 er window beyond, through which 

 he thrusts blue lights and blazing 

 rolls, disclosing indescribable won- 

 ders to our gaze. This is Gorin's 

 Dome. The floor far below us. 

 about an acre in area, is covered, 

 with water. The perpendicnlar 

 walls, rising out of sight, are drap- 

 ed with these immense stalagmitic 

 curtains, one above another, whose 

 folds, which scorn to be loosely 

 floating, are bordered with fringes 

 rich and heavy. These hangings, 

 dight with figures rare and fantas- 

 tic, fit for Plutonian halls, were 

 woven in Nature's loom by crystal 



threads of running water. 



We have now no choice of evils 

 between Bunyan's Way, where one 

 must stoop like a pilgrim burden- 

 ed, and Buchanan's Way, where 

 one must hold his head to one side, 

 after the traditional habit of that 

 eminent statesman. We choose 

 the latter; and presently, by a cir- 

 cular opening over which hangs a 

 threatening trap-door of rock, we 

 are made acquainted with the fa- 

 mous and original Fat Man's Mis- 

 ery, of which all others are but 

 base imitations. It is a serpen- 

 tine channel, whose walls, eighteen 

 inches apart, change direction 

 eight times in one hundred and 

 five yards; while the average dis- 

 tance from the sandy pathway to 

 the ledge overhead is but five feet. 

 The rocky sides are beautifully 

 marked with waves and ripples, as 

 if running water had been sudden- 

 ly petrified. There seems to have 

 been first a horizontal opening be- 

 tween two strata of limestone, by 

 taking advantage of which this sin- 

 gular winding way was chiseled, 

 from whose embrace we gladly 

 emerge into Great Relief, where 

 we can straighten our spines, and 

 enjoy the luxury of a full breath. 

 It was formerly supposed that if 

 this passage were blocked up, es- 

 cape from the regions beyond 

 would be impossible. But not 

 long ago the "Corkscrew" was dis- 

 covered, an intricate web of fis- 

 sures, by means of which a good 

 climber, after mounting three lad- 

 ders, crawling through narrow 

 openings, and leaping from rock- 

 to rock, ascending thus amid the 

 wildest confusion for one hundred 

 and fifty feet, gains a landing at last, 

 only a thousand yards from the en- 

 trance to the cave, and cuts off two 

 or three miles of travel. Visitors 

 generally come in the regular route 

 and go out the Corkscrew, which, 

 with a lively party, affords no end 

 of amusement and a world of hap- 

 py experiences which one recalls 

 with pleasure years after. None 

 should fail to come through the 

 Corkscrew. 



On entering River Hall we found 

 our path skirting the edge of cliffs 

 sixty feet high and one hundred feet 

 long embracing the sullen waters 

 of what is called the Dead Sea. 

 Descending a flight of steps we 

 came to a cascade, but a little fur- 

 ther on, said to be a re-appearance 

 of the waterfall at the entrance, 

 suggesting the idea that the cave 



