USA > Missouri > Missouri the center state, 1821-1915 > Part 26
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The Place to Register.
Out from the edges of the vast amphitheater lead half a dozen routes to as many strange features of the cave. In no two of the routes is there any sameness of travel or scenes. The most natural trip to make first is by a curving passage which begins almost behind the Great White Throne. It is a narrow alley, so narrow that two people of average size would find it hard to pass each other. The floor is of clay ; the sides and arched roof of rock. If the passage had been hewn out by human hands it could not have been done more perfectly. The height at the opening permits one to stand almost erect. Gradually it is found neces- sary to stoop more and more. The passage curves and descends. Stone steps take
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the place of the clay bottom. A warm current, 10 degrees higher than the tempera- ture of the amphitheater, strikes the face. At the end of 250 feet the passage- comes to an abrupt corner and there is the Registry Room. A great hall opens out, and the torch must be swung high overhead and all around to get an appreciative idea of the dimensions. On one side is a high wall covered with a coating of soft but very tenacious red clay. In this clay names and dates and sentiments. can be traced with the finger. And here the restless American tourist is turned loose to get his fill of making his mark. When the cave was explored for the first time with any thoroughness in 1882, upon the wall of the Registry Room was found the record that the Blow party, from St. Louis, had penetrated to this. depth in 1869. But the party went no further.
The Registry Room is 50 feet high, as square and perfect as if carved with purpose. The roof is as smooth as if plastered. At the further end of the Registry Room a chasm yawns. It is 130 feet down this precipice to the bottom. The roof is 50 feet above. This gives 180 feet from bottom to top. It is the Gulf of Doom. And a gulf of doom it would be to any one who, intent on viewing the Registry Room, should step backward into the chasm. The first time any one ever went beyond the Registry Room it was descent by rope 130 feet to the bottom of the Gulf of Doom. And the return was made the same way. But soon a pas- sage was found-a continuation of the route by which the Registry Room is reached from the amphitheater. Keeping on down the steep passage without turn- ing into the Registry Room, the visitor reaches a succession of ledges and ladders. The ladders were built where they are. No piece of wood longer than 10 feet could be dragged down, so short are the turns and curves. The timbers were spliced and the rounds were put in after the material reached its destination. Several of these ladders, with more or less difficult crawls between them, lead to Lost River Canyon. The opening is into the side of the canyon, which extends in both directions. The turn to the right into the canyon takes one to the waterfall. A short crawl ends in the Sullivan Room. Everybody straightens up and walks into a narrow hall, which curves first one way and then the other until it forms a perfect S. When this freak was first found there was a man named Harvey Sullivan in the exploring party. Some one called attention to the fact that the room was shaped like an S lying on its side. And another exclaimed, "We'll just call this the Sullivan Room." So it remains. The carved hall is 20 feet long and 8 feet high. Upon the roof nature has left a curious molding divided into figures unknown to geography, with little knobs as large as an acorn stuck along the dividing ridges of the panels. Lost River flows through the Sullivan Room and leaves on its way little pools that look like plate-glass. Just beyond the room the river spreads and ripples over a lot of rocks which appear as soft and smooth as so many feather pillows. There Lost River plunges downward 45 feet into a mass of spray, into the bottom of the Gulf of Doom. In Lost River the alchemy of nature is always at work. Of all the streams yet found in the cave this is the only one which coats everything it touches. A stick left in the water three months will be found covered with a transparent glass-like substance. The manufacture of onyx is in progress all of the time, though, of course, it will be ages before the water formation of today becomes the onyx of use.
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The Gulf of Doom.
The top of the waterfall having been seen, the next thing is to reach the bottom of the fall and the floor of the Gulf of Doom. Backward through the Sullivan Room and into the hard crawling among the rocks the way is. At one place a rock splits the passage in two. The only course is to wriggle under or over. "Fat Man's Misery" the guide calls it. Just beyond Fat Man's Misery is the Hornet's Nest, a mass of water-formed rock with cells and color, so like the dangerous bunch hanging from the apple tree bough that one almost hears the angry buzz. And a little way from the Hornet's Nest there project down from the low roof of the passage two great knobs of rock. The man who misses the first is sure to measure the hardness of his head with the second. Originally there was a coating of clay on the knobs. One day a visitor struck a knob so hard the red clay broke and fell. He shouted to the guide :
"I have caved in my whole head. Take me out of here as quick as you can or I shall be dead before you get to the ladder. Oh! oh! oh!"
"I knew," said young Powell, "that if the man's skull was crushed in he wouldn't be talking, and I tried to relieve his mind. He wouldn't have it. He insisted that he had broken his head and that the pieces had fallen all around him. I went back, and after awhile I convinced him that the pieces were the red clay covering of the knob and not his head. But he had had a pretty hard bump."
And while he told his story the guide led the way down a couple of short ladders, along a passage and into the bottom of the Gulf of Doom, with its 180 feet from floor to roof. Lost River fell on what seemed like a heap of feather beds, but the spray and mist and the roar told that the piled-up mass with its soft look and smooth curves was onyx, formed by the long and continuous dashing of the water.
The Gulf of Doom, 900 feet below the top of the mountain peak and in the very heart of it, has its relations with the outer world. In times of excessive rains and freshets the Gulf of Doom fills with water to a depth of 100 feet, and as the rivers outside go down the water in the gulf falls.
Mysterious Cave Noises.
From the foot of the waterfall begins a crawl to further wonders. The explorer is now about a quarter of a mile below the rim of the crater and daylight. He has come a long way roundabout in the descent. He has climbed down nine ladders from 10 to 60 feet long. He has half slipped, half stepped along steep grades. He has walked through tortuous passages, sometimes erect and sometimes bent until his body was almost at right angles with his legs. He has crawled on his hands and knees. He has passed through tight places where he had to lengthen out his legs and drag himself by his hands. But having come thus far he should not turn back. A dash through the waterfall means only a little additional damp- ness. A more serious-minded way is to edge along the wall and get around the falling water. The torch shows a slanting wall in front. The guide calls it a "clay slide." The clay makes it possible to dig the toes in and gain footings. Up the clay slide at its steep angle goes the way, and the only way to Blondy's throne. This ascent of 65 feet looks all but impossible, until the guide shows that it can be done. When the top of the clay slide is reached there appears what could not be seen before, a wide, low opening. It is only 2 feet high. The bottom is of
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damp red clay ; the roof of smooth rock. This is the passage to the throne room. It is hands and knees for it now. But familiarity has already bred contempt for the moist clay. The crawl begins. In places the clay either rises a little or the roof lowers. Whichever it matters not. The only thing to do is to drop flat and wriggle along, until there is a little more space, and then one realizes how much easier it is to crawl than to wriggle. Three shallow pools of water are encountered on the way. Two of them can be skirted with care. Through one it is necessary to splash. From the head of the clay slide there is 600 feet of this kind of traveling. Just half way on the route is the rest room. Well named it is. There is space to rise and to stand erect and to stretch the arms. There are ledges to sit upon. And while all rest and nobody speaks, suddenly a murmur seems to come through the opening opposite. It is the sound of talking, surely. As the hearing is strained, the voice grows more distinct, but not a word can be distinguished. One day as Powell sat in the rest room with a visitor, the latter bent his head and exclaimed :
"Listen! Listen! There! She laughs !"
Imagination is reluctant to give up the theory of voices for the reality of echoes from falling water. One day Will Powell took an old fellow into this crawl passage to dig out some clay and make the way a trifle easier. Young Powell him- self was at work in the passage leading to the foot of the waterfall, replacing one of the ladders. He had occasion to go up toward the amphitheater for material. He was not gone thirty minutes, but on his way back he met his workman crawling out.
"That clay is awful tough ; I thought I'd come out and rest my back awhile," the old man explained. But he showed a disinclination to go to work again. Powell went with him. The old man hesitated a little and then asked :
"Say, do you hear that kind of grumbling noise in there ?"
After he had been convinced that what he heard was really the water he took up his tools. Not many men can be induced to work in the cave. They raise the pick and involuntarily hold it suspended, as if they were fearful it might strike through a coffin lid and release some uneasy spirit.
Some of the Cave Mysteries.
Three hundred feet of crawling and wriggling beyond the rest room ends with a sudden up-raise of clay. It seems as if the end has come. But the roof rises just as abruptly as the clay does. The passage simply jogs upward and then downward and the throne room is there. In reality there are three rooms, if the two half partitions or narrowing portions be taken into account. But the Powells treat the three as one grand hall 300 feet long. The first thing the visitor dis- covers is a little lake 30 feet long and 20 feet wide. The water is as transparent as glass. The torch shows the bottom, and the depth appears to be about 15 inches, whereas it is many feet. Mystic Lake it is called. A large rapid stream flows into the lake from the south. There is no visible outlet. Yet the lake does not rise nor fall. Somewhere out of sight there must be an exit for the water, but no trace of it has ever been found. An arch overhangs the lake. It is about 8 feet high in the center and the sides pass down with perfect turns to the floor of the room. Beneath the arch hangs a bewildering array of stalactites. These pendants are of great variety in sizes. Some are dark and some are white. The Mystic River, as
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it comes down to the lake, makes a tremendous noise over a succession of low falls and rapids. And this is the noise which, sifted through long and crooked passages, is easily mistaken for voices.
The onward way is up over the arch. Then it bears off a little to the right and brings one to the foot of Blondy's throne. The great white throne of the amphitheater was a marvel. But here is a throne ten times the size of that at the base and twice as high. For 120 feet the throne tapers up with story upon story of red and yellow and water-colored onyx. Across the base the width is 150 feet. With the aid of a long rope fastened to a stalactite it is possible to scramble up the side of the throne and enter the interior 75 feet above the base. In this is found a room 20 feet across and from 12 to 20 feet high. The floor is as white as snow. In the center is a tank of about the dimensions of a wagon box-8 feet long and 3 feet wide. The water in the tank seems to be quite shallow. An early explorer named Porter put his foot in to see what the depth really was. When he came to the surface the guide pulled out Mr. Porter by the ears. This interior room of Blondy's throne is hung with stalactites. In all of the ramifications of the cave there has not yet been found stalactite formation to compare with that in Blondy's throne room. Hundreds can be counted in the throne interior. They range in diameter from pipe stems to stove pipes, and in length from a few inches to 20 feet. Correspondingly in size and number the stalagmites come up from the floor to meet them. To the right hand of the entrance of the throne interior are the musical rocks. Two complete octaves can be rung from them by taps with a piece of iron. Some of these rocks give out sound as loud and clear as a large bell. Others are as fine as a piano note. Still others are as transparent as thick glass. The light illuminates them.
It is possible to reach the summit of Blondy's throne. That summit is crowned by a collection of spires. One great central spire is 4 feet through and extends far upward into darkness. Around it are ten or twelve smaller spires. Standing on the summit of the throne and throwing the light around, the explorer finds that the walls are covered with stalactites. Even at that elevation the roof is so far above that it is not visible.
The upper part of the throne from the interior room to the summit has been likened to a cupola. The similarity is striking. Crossing the throne interior to the side opposite from the entrance, one stands peering out into the great beyond. There is space and darkness above, below and all around. To this day it remains the great beyond. Leaning out from the interior of the throne the Powells have thrown flash lights and burned fire-balls without being able to know much more of the great beyond than that it is a vast chamber. Height and breadth are unknown. There is bottom, however, at the foot of a precipice of 100 feet. No human foot has yet trod the floor. The guides know that water flows through the great beyond. They can hear it. Whence it comes or where is goes, or how much there is of it they do not know. The Great Beyond is one of the several places where exploration has halted.
The Dead Animal Chamber.
Variety is the characteristic of Marvel Cave. No two parts or features are similar. Past the spring, direct from the amphitheater and straight as if an engineer had bossed the workings, goes a tunnel. The floor is of hard red clay ; Vol. 1-12
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the walls and arched roof of rock. Unlike some other portions of the cave this passage is very dry. A stooping walk gives place to the hands-and-knees posture, and then the prone position must be taken. The tunnel becomes a crevice which suddenly widens out into a large, low, vaulted room. This is the dead animal chamber. A chamber of horrors it might be called. The distance is 125 feet from the amphitheater to the chamber. On the last part of the way it is impossible to crawl or to turn. Mr. Powell, a thin, wiry man of great nerve and strength, was the first to make his way to the chamber. He came wriggling his way back to the amphitheater and told his associates that he had seen 500 dead animals.
"Five, five, five," exclaimed the skeptical Dr. Jones in derision, and then he made ready for the trip. But when he got back the first words that came from his lips were, "Not five hundred, but five thousand."
The floor of the vaulted chamber was not only covered, it was heaped with mummified remains of animals. Curled or stretched out, according to the natural way of going asleep, they lay by hundreds and thousands. Upon many the fur was so well preserved that they had the appearance, in the dim light, of sleeping. There were the remains of panthers, of wildcats, of 'coons, of opossums, of wood- chucks, and underneath were skeletons of animals long ago extinct. A little stir- ring of the remains raised a cloud of dust which was suffocating. Subsequent examination of the dead animal chamber showed that the remains which lay in sight constituted only a small fraction of the number which had crawled in to die. Buried in layers of clay deposits, carried into the chamber,at some remote period by floods, were countless other skeletons and mummies, chiefly of the feline tribe. Evidently this had been for centuries the place to die chosen by these kinds of animals. Some hundred have been carried or sent away. Government naturalists from Washington completed the shipment of a ton of the clay and its contents ; together with a large box of the best preserved specimens to Washington. But no impression has been made upon the great chamber's grewsome contents. The scientists are greatly interested. The dying animals never came down through the crater and the gap in the roof of the amphitheater. They knew of some other entrance to Marvel Cave. That is more than the Powells, with all their search- ing, have been able to find. Why did the dying animals come centuries after cen- turies to the cool dry place, a natural tomb with wonderful preserving conditions ? There is a revelation of instinct in the dead animal chamber.
Mr. Powell said that animals have crawled into the chamber and died since he has been living here. The carcasses are preserved, but in the process of mum- mifying they give off a strong smell, not offensive, however, like carrion. To make room for their last resting places these late comers have crowded back the remains of those gone before until they have choked up the crevice to the amphitheater.
Following the wall of the amphitheater around to the right from the dead animal tunnel, the visitor must look well to his steps. Down close to the wall is a well-like opening. To the bottom is 35 feet and it opens into the Powell and Hughes rooms, 30 feet long, 6 or 7 wide and 15 feet high. These rooms are only interesting for the large deposits of bat guano they contain. When the cave was first explored in 1882 the idea was to take out this guano and sell it. A whim and a tramway were constructed, but the distance of thirty miles over the moun- tains to the railroad wiped out the profits and the industry collapsed.
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Beyond the entrance to the Powell and Hughes rooms the amphitheater has a great wing which is almost a part of itself. But the wing has been given the dis- tinctive name of the Mother Hubbard room. When Mr. Powell first walked to the further end of the wing chamber and came front to front with a prodigious stone image he exclaimed to those following: "Hello! Here's Mother Hubbard." The figure is as shapeless as a Mother Hubbard dress and that suggested the name. But when Mr. Powell looked behind the figure and saw a large crevice he added from another chamber of his memory, "And here's Mother Hubbard's cupboard, sure enough." When the Powell boys read Haggard, they adopted "She" as the better title for the figure, but "Mother Hubbard" and "the cupboard" still stick.
The Battery and the Dungeons.
A crawl of forty feet from the extreme end of the Mother Hubbard room gives entrance to The Battery. It is through heterogeneous rock, and a rather ugly scramble. The Battery is sixty or seventy feet long and high. The appearance is novel even after the other features of Marvel Cave have been examined. A little stream crosses the room from right to left. A large gallery is well filled with water formations composed about one-half of guano. A queer combination it is. The Battery gets its name from the fact that it is the chamber most frequented by bats. At times the bats cover the walls entirely and give the room the appear- ance of being draped in velvet. Out of the Battery is a passage to the Spanish room, so called because of marks on the walls which somebody once thought were made by the Spanish explorers. That story Mr. Powell discredited. Beyond the Spanish room a passage so choked with broken rock as to be impassable ex- tends nobody knows where. In this part of the cave is found a very hard and tough clay which, when scraped by a knife, takes on a rich polish.
Still further around the Amphitheater, just down the dump to the left of the big ladder, is a high crevice in which a man can stand erect and edge along side- ways. The course is downward at an angle of forty-five degrees. The crevice comes to an end on the brink of a precipice. An Indian ladder-that is a pole with rounds thrust through it-furnishes means of descent thirty-five feet to the bottom of the precipice. Here is the Dungeon, twenty-five feet across and very high. With the ladder broken or lifted out there is no escape. . Mr. Powell said he had found unmistakable evidence of some one having been confined in this hor- rible trap. From the bottom of the Dungeon is an opening to a second and smal- ler room, and from that room a desperate effort has been made to tunnel through the hard clay upward in the direction of the Amphitheater. This unfinished tun- nel extends twenty feet and ends abruptly. In the main Dungeon all the loose stones have been collected and heaped up twelve feet high against the side nearest to the outlet fissure. But, standing on that heap, the prisoner would still be many feet below the fissure. The walls are too steep to permit of climbing out. In one place there is apparently a drilled hole in the wall for a staple. And when Mr. Powell first discovered the hole there seemed to be traces of rust around it. No skeleton was found in either of the Dungeons.
Freaks of Temperature.
Awe is not altogether responsible for the shivering sensation which comes with the first steps downward into Marvel Cave. From the summer temperature
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of seventy on the mountain the transition is suddenly to forty-two at the foot of the Great White Throne. Only in the amphitheater and certain side passages is the temperature so low. The Powells learned to account for this by the presence of the bat guano. This deposit is not found in the registry room nor in the lower portions of the cave. There the uniform temperature is fifty-six. But where the. guano is abundant the temperature is ten or twelve degrees colder. The explana- tion is found in the presence of thirteen per cent of ammonia in the guano. In other words nature, with the assistance of the bats, has produced chemical cold storage on a grand scale.
Almost opposite the big ladder and to the right of the Great White Throne some little distance stands a tall shapely rock, extending from the bottom to the roof of the amphitheater and back almost against the wall. It is "The Sentinel of the Spring." To the right of the sentinel is a passage and opening off that passage is a spring. The water comes trickling from above, and by constant drop- ping keeps a large basin full. This water is colder, a little colder than the at- mosphere. Tasted where it drips it is pleasant. Above ground it is almost too cold for comfort. Unlike the water of the Lost River the spring creates no forma- tions. No glassy coating follows a bath of whatever length in the basin. Just above the spring is another apartment reached by a short climb. It is the shower bath room. Walls and top are covered with moisture. The moisture seems to come from nowhere in particular, but it gathers as a jug sweats in hot weather and trickles down to form the supply of the spring. The theory of the collection of this water is one of the many freaks of Marvel Cave. It is that the difference in temperature between various parts of the cave and the collision of currents causes the water to condense from the warmer air and to collect in this shower bath chamber. Distillation, in other words, performed by nature on the spot, creates this supply of water for the bath room and the spring. Scientists to whom the conditions have been described have admitted the correctness of the theory. For the creation of the water supply no other explanation can be found. This purest and queerest of water is given credit for the cure of cases of diabetes. Just over the spring and on the side toward the amphitheater is the window shutter. The shutter slats are gigantic, but they are wonderfully perfect and lie in correct parallels.
Thirty Miles of Passages.
One of the first questions asked about a cave is, "How far can you go?" No satisfactory answer can be made to that question about Marvel Cave. There are, with Sentinel Rock as a starting point, several routes which have been followed long distances without end. If the amphitheater, into which visitors first enter, is taken as the starting point, it is possible to go in several other passages which have mysteries yet to be cleared up. The Powells have followed these different routes one after the other until they have come to rivers too deep to be forded or to precipices too great for ordinary means of scaling. In several directions jour- neys of at least five miles have been made. No less than thirty miles of chambers and passages has been explored. And how much more remains to be traversed it is not possible to estimate.
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