A Visit to the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky by John Wilson

Although we had a day's rest yesterday, it being Sunday, my eldest daughter was not sufficiently recovered from the fatigues of Saturday to encounter another day's journeying in the cave, which might perhaps be more fatiguing than any we had yet undergone, and so my youngest and myself sallied forth, both of us being very anxious to see the ferlies across the river. It has been doubtful for some days whether we should be able to cross the river, for, like all the rivers for a considerable time past, it has been so high that there has not been sufficient room for a boat to pass between the river and the rocky ceiling above. However, Green River, which flows at about half a mile's distance from the mouth of the cave, has fallen considerably since last night, which affords some hope that the river in the cave may also have fallen, and Stephen assures us that he will get us to the other side some way or other, if we should go through Purgatory, which he suspects we shall have to do. We take an additional guide with us, named Alfred, in case his services may be required. We trudge along the Main (and at a pretty smart pace), till we reach the Giant's Coffin, behind which we again descend, and go through the Deserted Chambers, pass the Bottomless Pit and again get into the Winding Way, through which having winded, we leave the Bacon Chamber on the right, and take the passage to the left, which leads to the Dead Sea, which may be seen by looking over a precipice, and sending a blazing piece of paper to the regions below. At eighty feet distance it reaches the still water of the Dead Sea.

We journey on through avenues till we reach the River Styx, which we cross in a boat, then we walk a little farther till we get to Lethe. We sail along it in our frail bark till the water becomes so shallow that we can go no farther. Echo River is the great one we have to cross, and as the guides are uncertain about the state of it, they leave us till they ascertain by what means we are to get to the other side. It was no very delightful situation for solitary helpless individuals to be left alone in a boat in the middle of a river so far under the face of the earth, and with no sound of anything near us save the trickling of invisible waterfalls, and nothing with any sign of life but gnats that fluttered about our lamps, and now and then a large cricket with immense long legs, but there was no "hearth" for it to be on, nor did it chirp. In this river are the eyeless fish; there are two kinds of them, neither having the least resemblance of a place for an eye, for, of course, they have no need of eyes. The solitariness of such a scene can scarcely be conceived. However, we must not think of it; we sang and chatted. The echo was magnificent, and sounding chords afforded us some amusement.