Chatterbox, 1905 Part 27

The great Mammoth Dome is over four hundred feet high, and light comes in from above through holes which, at such a height, look like stars s.h.i.+ning in a dark sky. One of the chief lakes is called the Dead Sea, from its stillness and gloom, and when light is flashed over it from above it is wonderfully impressive, with its surrounding fringe of gleaming stalact.i.tes.

A terrible abyss is known as the Bottomless Pit, the depths of which have never been sounded. On one of its sides rises a huge crystallisation in the form of a spinning chair, which gleams out from the surrounding blackness, and is called the Devil's Chair. This appalling chasm is credited with various terrible tales. One is of two young lovers who hid in the Mammoth Cave, but finding themselves pursued, tied themselves together with the girl's girdle, and jumped into the abyss. However misguided and foolish we may think these young folk, we can have nothing but pity for two runaway slaves from Alabama, who, after horrible sufferings and privations in the swamps and forests, hoped to have found a resting-place in the great cavern. Alas for their hopes! before long they heard the voices of their pursuers, the cracking of their heavy whips, the baying of the bloodhounds which had tracked them to their refuge. Further and further they retreated in the darkness, only to hear the dreadful sounds draw nearer and nearer, until they found that they could go no further, as they had arrived at a small rocky platform overhanging the Bottomless Pit. Before was certain death, though it was hidden in the horrors of mystery and darkness; behind were the terrors of a death of protracted agony, as a warning to other fugitive slaves! One second's hesitation, and then, as their captors reached out to seize their prey, the despairing men leapt from the rock into the awful pit.

One very singular cave is known as the Church, and is curiously like the crypt of an English Cathedral, such as Gloucester or Canterbury. It is very nearly the same size as the latter. Here stalact.i.tes and stalagmites of colossal size have joined to form pillars, united by Norman arches, with wonderful effect. Religious services have often been held in this veritable 'temple not made with hands.'

Indian mummies have been met with in parts of the cavern, proving that it was known to native tribes in past ages. The skeleton of a mastodon, an extinct form of elephant, stands in one of the great halls, and a few live creatures still inhabit the gloomy depths. A cave-rat as large as a rabbit was caught, which, although it had very bright eyes, was quite blind when taken from the cave; but after a month's experience of daylight it gradually began to make use of its eyes. Various kinds of eyeless fish and crabs live in the dark waters, and a live frog was seen wearing an unhappy expression of countenance.

The slow rate at which stalagmites grow has been tested in this cavern by a lantern which was dropped in 1812 and found cemented to the floor in 1843, since which its upward progress has been carefully watched. The Mammoth Cave contains immense quant.i.ties of nitre. During the great American Civil War, most of that used was found here, and as gunpowder contains two-thirds of nitre to all its other ingredients, these caverns were of great value to the nation. The Mammoth Cave is now private property, belonging to Dr. John Crogan, who gave ten thousand dollars for it.

HELENA HEATH.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Mammoth Cave Kentucky]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'I don't remember seeing a boy.'"]

THE BOY TRAMP.

(_Continued from page 76._)

CHAPTER X.

Beyond the meadow lay a field of wheat, tall and yellow, although not yet quite ripe for the sickle. Stooping until my hands almost touched the ground, I ran as fast as possible under the shelter of the friendly hedge, until, reaching the cornfield, I scrambled through another hedge, and lay down on my face amidst the wheat.

But still it was impossible to feel in the slightest degree safe, the road being only a few yards distant, while I distinctly heard the sound of approaching wheels. If it had not been for the bend in the lane, I should scarcely have been able to delay capture many minutes, and even as it was, I lay quaking while I wondered whether Mr. Turton would be able to see me from the road.

The cab pa.s.sed my hiding-place, however, so that I began to hope it might not be going to stop, until on the point of rising, I heard the horse pulled up, heard the door opened, and recognised Mr. Turton's voice as he told Augustus to alight.

'The boy must be hiding somewhere hereabouts,' he exclaimed.

'He might easily have got into that wood,' said Augustus, and I regretted that in my haste I had not taken to the wood on the other side of the road.

While Augustus and his father must have gone to inspect the woods, I heard the sound of an approaching motor-car, and guessed that it had stopped close to the cab on the other side of the hedge.

I lay on my face with the thick wheat growing high all around, my eyes raised to the hedge, above which I could see the top of a man's straw hat. I supposed that his motor-car had broken down, but at any rate, his companion alighted and came on to the raised path, so that I could see her hat and face.

She looked about my own age, although she must have been unusually tall.

Young as she was, she wore a thick veil, which she had turned back under the brim of her white hat. A quant.i.ty of fair hair hung loose, and she had dark, rather mischievous, but friendly-looking eyes.

The next moment I heard Mr. Turton and Augustus returning from the wood, to inquire whether the driver of the motor-car had seen any one answering to my description. For the car had been coming to meet the cab, as if the driver were making for Polehampton.

'A boy of about fifteen,' said Mr. Turton, as they all drew nearer to the hedge. 'I saw him--I am almost certain it was he--about this spot.

Then I lost him in the bend of the lane, and I thought it was possible that you might have seen him running to meet you.'

'I don't remember seeing a boy,' was the answer; 'but then, this wretched car is enough to occupy all my attention. Did you see a boy, Jacintha?' he added.

'No, Uncle,' she answered, and I thought what a strange name it was--one which I certainly had not heard before. 'Has he run away from school?'

she asked, with obvious interest, the next moment.

'Yes,' said Mr. Turton, while I could imagine Augustus's sn.i.g.g.e.r; 'he has caused me an immense deal of trouble, and I am extremely anxious to take him back with me--extremely anxious.'

While I lay in the wheat, able to see the tops of their heads as they moved closer to the hedge, it did not seem altogether improbable that Mr. Turton would gain his wish; and while he was still discussing me with the driver of the motor-car, whom 'Jacintha' had addressed as 'Uncle,' the girl came quite close to the hedge, turning to look at the ripening corn. As my eyes were upraised, they looked straight into hers, which seemed to hold them as if I were fascinated.

Now, I thought, everything is over with me! I had not realised that I could be so easily seen by any one looking down into the field from the higher path. Jacintha was evidently startled; she stepped abruptly backwards, as I supposed, to tell Mr. Turton that she had found the object of his search. I was already making up my mind how to act. Mr.

Turton was unlikely to be a very swift runner, while I knew that I could give Augustus a pretty good start. The moment Jacintha came back to the hedge to point out my hiding-place I determined to rise from the ground, dart towards the adjoining field where the sheep were pastured, and taking a line across country, at the worst I would lead them all a good chase before I gave in.

A second later, though it seemed a long second in my suspense, Jacintha returned to the hedge and again looked down into my upturned face.

Gradually her lips parted in a smile, and then my heart began to thump against my ribs, for I knew that she was not going to betray me. As I smiled back in my relief, she nodded her head ever so slightly, and turning, walked away from the hedge.

'Why don't you drive on to Barton?' she cried, raising her voice, I supposed, for my especial benefit.

'Barton? How far is that?' asked Mr. Turton.

'Five miles, isn't it, Uncle?' she answered.

'Five and a half,' he said. 'You keep bearing to your right.'

'But,' suggested Augustus, 'I feel certain Everard disappeared about here.'

'Is that his name?' asked Jacintha.

'Yes, Jack Everard.'

'Perhaps he has gone down through a trap-door,' said Jacintha with a laugh, and Augustus sn.i.g.g.e.red in return. How I wished there had only been Augustus to deal with, with perhaps Jacintha to look on during the process. But it would not have been his boots that I should have blacked!

'Uncle!' cried Jacintha, 'do you remember the steep lane we pa.s.sed on our left?--that would be on your right,' she added, evidently turning to Mr. Turton.

'What about it?' he asked.

'There was a finger-post which said "Pathway to Barton." If they were to take that path don't you think they would get to Barton more quickly?'

'Why, yes, of course,' was the answer.

'Then,' said Mr. Turton, 'if we follow the road, we might be able to intercept the boy. I am very much obliged to this young lady. But in case you should see him after all,' he continued, 'allow me to give you this card. If you could manage to detain him while you communicate with me at Castlemore you would confer the greatest favour.'

I could not catch the answer, but a few minutes later, I heard the cab-door shut and knew that Mr. Turton and Augustus, thanks to Jacintha, had been driven off in the direction of Barton, five and a half miles distant. So that they would have eleven miles to drive before they returned to this spot, leaving me at least two hours (reckoning for the search at Barton and so forth) to make good my escape.

In the meantime the motor-car still continued to make strange noises, and every now and then its owner gave vent to curious exclamations.

'Don't you think,' suggested Jacintha, 'it would be best to try to get as far as the farrier's we pa.s.sed opposite the footpath to Barton?'

'Upon my word, I almost think it would!' was the answer. 'Come, suppose you take your seat.'

'Oh!' cried Jacintha, 'but if you don't mind I think I would sooner walk--it is not far, you know.'

So a few moments later the motor-car made stranger noises than ever and moved away, evidently with difficulty, and when it had gone a little distance Jacintha came to the hedge again.