Summary

Alexander Clark Bullitt Rambles in the Mammoth Cave, during the Year 1844

The little bells of the brain are ringing in your ears; you hear nothing else—not even a sigh of air—not even the echo of a drop of water falling from the roof. The guide triumphs in your look of amazement and awe; he falls to work on certain old wooden ruins, to you, yet invisible, and builds a brace or two of fires, by the aid of which you begin to have a better conception of the scene around you. You are in the vestibule or ante-chamber, to which the spacious entrance of the Cave, and the narrow passage that succeeds it, should be considered the mere gate-way and covered approach.
Source: Gutenberg

Alexander Clark Bullitt Rambles in the Mammoth Cave, during the Year 1844

It is an appalling spectacle,—how dark, how dismal, how dreary. Descending some thirty feet down rather rude steps of stone, you are fairly under the arch of this "nether world"—before you, in looking outwards, is seen a small stream of water falling from the face of the crowning rock, with a wild faltering sound, upon the ruins below, and disappearing in a deep pit,—behind you, all is gloom and darkness!
Let us now follow the guide—who, placing on his back a canteen of oil, lights the lamps, and giving one to each person, we commence our subterranean journey
Source: Gutenberg

Alexander Clark Bullitt Rambles in the Mammoth Cave, during the Year 1844

Stephen has linked his name to dome, or avenue, or river, and it is already immortal—in the Cave.
Independent of the attractions to be found in the Cave, there is much above ground to gratify the different tastes of visiters. There is a capacious ball-room, ninety feet by thirty, with a fine band of music,—a ten-pin alley,—romantic walks and carriage-drives in all directions, rendered easy of access by the fine road recently finished.
Source: Gutenberg

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