The Jenolan Caves.

THE CORAL GROTTO. [Frontispiece

THE

JENOLAN CAVES:

AN

EXCURSION

IN

AUSTRALIAN WONDERLAND.

By SAMUEL COOK.

ILLUSTRATED WITH TWENTY-FOUR PLATES AND MAP.

EYRE & SPOTTISWOODE,

Her Majesty's Printers:

LONDON—GREAT NEW STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C.

1889.

[PREFACE.]

THE following historical and descriptive account of the Jenolan (formerly called the Fish River) Caves was written for the Sydney Morning Herald. By the kind permission of the proprietors of that journal (Messrs. John Fairfax and Sons) and, at the request of numerous correspondents, it is now republished. The author is conscious, however, that neither tongue, nor pen, nor pictorial art can convey an adequate idea of the magnificence and exquisite beauty of these caves. Words are too poor to express the feelings of admiration and awe which are experienced by those who wander through the marvellous subterranean galleries embellished with myriads of graceful and fantastic forms of purest white alternating with rich colour and delicate tints and shades. Of all the caves in New South Wales those at Jenolan are the most beautiful, and well-travelled men admit that they are unrivalled in any other part of the world. As they are so little known this book may be interesting, and serve to give some impression concerning geological transformations and the slow processes of Nature in the production of works at once grand, ornate, and unique.

The illustrations are from photographs by Messrs. Kerry and Jones of Sydney, who have generously permitted the author to make selections from their beautiful and extensive series of cave pictures.

[CONTENTS.]

[LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.]

[The Jenolan Caves.]

[CHAPTER I.]

HOW THE CAVES WERE DISCOVERED.

The Jenolan Caves contain some of the most remarkable and beautiful objects in Australian wonderland. They are formed in a limestone "dyke," surrounded by magnificent scenery, and hide in their dark recesses natural phenomena of rare interest to the geologist, as well as of pleasurable contemplation by non-scientific visitors; while in and about them the moralist may find

"—— tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything."

To see these caves once is to create a lifelong memory. The pink and the white terraces of New Zealand, which before the recent eruptions attracted so many tourists, did not excel in splendour the caves at Jenolan. But it is common for people to go abroad to admire less interesting things than are to be found within easy distance of their starting point, and which, if they were a thousand miles away, would probably be regarded as worthy of a special pilgrimage. There are persons living two or three leagues from the caves who have never seen them, and who, if they embraced the opportunity for inspection, would possibly regard them with the kind of wonder with which they would gaze upon the transformation scene at a pantomime. And yet the most frequent entry in the visitors' book is that the caves are "grand beyond expectation," and in some of their principal features "indescribably beautiful."

The first of these caves was discovered in 1841 by James Whalan, who lived on the Fish River, near what is now the Tarana Railway Station. Having been robbed by a man named McEwan, he accompanied a police officer in search of the desperado, and tracked him to the romantic spot which forms the centre of the cave reserve, where he was captured.

It is possible that some of these caves were known previously to outlaws, who found in them a secure and convenient hiding-place when hotly pursued. But the visit of Whalan on the occasion of the capture of McEwan first brought them into public notice. The name of the bush-ranger is given to the creek which plays an important part in connection with the caves. One of the principal features received its name from the captor, and another—the Bow Cave—is called after some stolen bullock-bows found therein. They were then known as the "Fish River Caves," or as the "Binda Caves." They were called the Fish River Caves because they were in what was then regarded as the "Fish River District," and not very far from the Fish River post-office. They were called the "Binda Caves" after a station about nine miles distant to the northward. And so they were indifferently known until the month of August, 1884, when their designation was officially changed to "Jenolan"—that being the name given by Sir Thomas Mitchell (Surveyor-General of New South Wales) to the mountain from which is named the parish within which the caves are situated.

The change of nomenclature was recommended on the ground that the then existing names were infelicitous and misleading,—the caves being not upon the Fish River, but upon a different watershed, separated from it by the main dividing range of the colony. The time was considered appropriate for remedying the mistake, because a map of the parish of Jenolan was then in course of preparation, and would shortly be lithographed and issued to the public. The official correspondence on this subject discloses the fact that "Binda" was first thought of as a good official name, and then "Bindo;" but the former was found to be the name of a post town between Yass and Goulburn, and the latter the name of a village and a mountain nine miles north of the caves, and, like the Fish River, on the west side of the dividing range.

Some exception was taken to the proposed change. It was urged that the name "Jenolan" was already applied to a mountain in the Capertee district; but to this it was replied that the mountain called "Jenolan," seven or eight miles from the caves in an easterly direction, was marked on Sir Thomas Mitchell's engraved map of the central portion of New South Wales, whilst the other was not so defined—showing precedence in point of time and importance; and, further, that the orthography of the two names is different, the one being spelt "Jenolan" and the other "Geenowlan"—the former being the name of the parish in which the caves are situated, and the latter the name of a peak near Capertee, in the county of Roxburg. So it was finally determined to change the name of the caves to "Jenolan," and in August, 1884, they were gazetted accordingly. Such a change could not have taken place without inconvenience and some misconception. Recently inquiries have been made as to whether the "Jenolan Caves" are newly-discovered wonders, or old friends under a new designation?

For about a quarter of a century after the discovery by Whalan, little notice was taken of the caves. They were regarded by a few who knew about them as remarkable freaks of nature, but allowed to remain unexplored until some of their hidden beauties were so disclosed as to rouse the enthusiasm of the present curator—Mr. Jeremiah Wilson—to whom, for his daring, energy, and patient investigation the public are greatly indebted. When their fame began to be bruited about, the number of visitors increased, and among them were Goths and Vandals who did not scruple to remove many a crystal gem from the still unfathomed caves. It became evident that unless something were promptly done to secure these newly-found treasures to the public, and protect them from ruthless hands, their magnificence would soon be destroyed, and the people deprived of a possession which should be a source of delight and instruction to succeeding generations, and excite the admiration of tourists from all parts of the world. The Government did the right thing when it prevented the acquisition by private individuals of the caves and a large area of land around them. It would have been better had the dedication to the public been made earlier.

The Gazette notice reserving from conditional purchase land about the caves with a view to their preservation, bears date 2nd October, 1866, and has appended to it the signature of the late J. Bowie Wilson, who was then Secretary for Lands in the Martin Ministry. The area specially protected is six and a quarter square miles in the county of Westmoreland, and near to it are some important forest reserves.

The official correspondence from 1866 to the present time is not very interesting, having reference principally to suggested improvements; it is very bulky, and shows that a large amount of official interest has been taken in the subject; but the money expended and the work accomplished indicate that hitherto Government and Parliament have had but a faint idea of their obligations in regard to the Jenolan Caves.

[CHAPTER II.]

THE APPROACH TO THE CAVES.

There are several routes to the caves. That commonly chosen is by way of Tarana, a small township 120 miles from Sydney by rail, and 2,560 feet above the level of the sea. The train journey is through interesting country. Leaving behind the new western suburbs with their elegant villas, stately mansions, and well-kept gardens, the traveller arrives at Parramatta with its quaint old church, its fine domain with sturdy English oaks of magnificent growth, its glimpses of river, its old King's School, and its many evidences of change from the old to the new.

From Parramatta (which is but 14 miles from Sydney), to Penrith, there are farms, and dark-leaved orange groves sweet-scented and laden with golden fruit; villages and townships and little homesteads where peace and contentment seem to reign; orchards and cultivated fields with rich brown soil on the hill sides; fine horses, splendid cattle, and cottages with troops of sturdy children. At Penrith, 34 miles from Sydney and 88 feet above sea-level, the country is flat, and the Nepean River which flows in graceful contour is spanned by a magnificent iron bridge supported on four massive piers of solid masonry. The train speeds across the Emu plains which are walled in by the Blue Mountains, so-called on account of the azure haze which covers them as with a bridal veil and is to the everlasting hills what the bloom is to the peach. Scaling the mountain side by a zigzag road, which is one of the "show" works of the colony illustrative of engineering audacity, in the course of a few miles the train climbs to an elevation of 700 feet. At Blaxland's platform, 42 miles from Sydney, the altitude is 766 feet above sea-level.

The name of Blaxland recalls the fact that it was not until 1813 that a route across the Blue Mountains was discovered. Near to the railway line is the track found by Wentworth, Blaxland, and Lawson, over what had theretofore been regarded as an impassable barrier range to the westward of Sydney. On speeds the train, still rising and rising, and revealing a series of views remarkable for grandeur and the sylvan monotony of the gum tree, until at Katoomba platform, 66 miles from Sydney, the elevation is 3,350 feet above sea-level. And so the journey continues past abrupt rocks, gloomy gorges, sparkling waterfalls, rocky glens, bold bluffs, leafy gullies, fairy dells and vernal valleys, until it descends the Great Zigzag into Lithgow, falling about 700 feet in less than five miles! Lithgow is 96 miles from Sydney, and although the Blue Mountains have been passed, the altitude is still about 3,000 feet. Lithgow is a busy place, apparently destined to become a manufacturing centre. There are already in the vicinity numerous coal mines, potteries, and other works. From this point to Tarana the country varies from agricultural and pastoral to rugged scenery.

The distance from Tarana to the caves is 35 miles, which has to be traversed by coach or on horseback. At present the ordinary course is to take coach on the arrival of the train at Tarana and drive to Oberon the same evening. The road is good, the district agricultural, and the scenery agreeable. The course from Oberon to the caves is through a less settled country, and for a considerable distance through unsettled primeval "bush," occupied chiefly by the wallaby, the opossum, the bandicoot, many varieties of the parrot kind that flaunt their gaudy plumage in the sunlight, and the native pheasant or lyre bird (Menura superba) which is a veritable mimic. The country is broken and mountainous and in winter the temperature is low, with cutting winds and severe frosts; in summer the heat is fervent. These silent forces in conjunction with brawling mountain torrents have been large factors in the production of the natural phenomena which are to be found in the valley dammed by the limestone "dyke" in which the caves are formed.

The approach to the Jenolan Caves at the end of the route viâ Tarana is remarkable for its construction and gradient, as well as for the magnificent scenery which surrounds it. All the way from Oberon the land rises, until an altitude of 4,365 feet above sea-level is attained. Then there is a gradual downward grade, until what is called "The Top Camp" is reached, shortly after which the traveller arrives at a part of the range which he traverses by five zigzags, and descends about 500 yards in a total length of road five chains less than three miles! This thoroughfare is made by cutting into the mountain side; and although with a well-appointed conveyance and careful driving it is safe enough, inexperienced travellers feel a sense of relief when the journey is concluded, and they are set down at the Cave House below, which, notwithstanding that it is in the lowest depth of a mountain recess, is still nearly 2,500 feet above sea-level. Any feeling of nervousness, however, is superseded by a sense of the grandeur of the view. If an occasional glance is given at the steep declivity, and a thought occurs as to what would be the consequence of a mishap, the attention is immediately diverted to some new magnificence in the wildly beautiful panorama, the sight of which alone would almost compensate for so long a journey.

On the return trip, when portly gentlemen ascend on foot this very steep zigzag they pause occasionally to contemplate the beauties of nature and estimate the advantages of pedestrian exercise. Perhaps, also, when they have made the same observation two or three times, they begin to think it possible to carry pedestrian exercise to excess, and that a wire tramway would be convenient. Still, at a second or third glance, they get an excellent idea of the course of the limestone ridge, and a better understanding of the operations of Nature in the excavation of the caves and the production of the wonderful formations they contain.

[CHAPTER III.]

THE EXTERNAL FEATURES OF THE CAVES.

That portion of the limestone dyke in which the caves are found runs six miles north and south; and the Grand Arch and the Devil's Coach House—the two principal "day caves"—are formed right through the mountain, near the centre, in an easterly and westerly direction. On the one side McEwan's Creek flows towards the Devil's Coach House, and on the other side is a natural watercourse leading to the Grand Arch, which is only a few yards distant from it. Bearing in mind how the watercourses converge towards these two central caves, and with what force, in times of heavy rain, the floods scour them, a good understanding may be obtained of the mechanical causes of the enormous excavations which excite amazement as well as admiration. If a visit be paid in winter, when the frost is sharp and the ground is "hoar with rime;" when every bough and every blade of grass is covered with congealed dew and adorned with forms of crystallisation which rival the rarest beauties of the caves; when rocks are split and crumbled by sudden alternations of heat and cold; there will be abundant illustration of the effect of water and light, and the variation of temperature in causing geological transformation. Limestone is not soluble in water without the addition of carbonic acid. An exploration of the caves, however, shows that the mountains are not composed entirely of limestone, but that other substances constitute part of their bulk. The principal causes of the formation of the "day caves," the Grand Arch and the Devil's Coach House, are the mechanical action of water and the variation of temperature. As regards the interior caves, where night reigns supreme, chemical combination has played a more important part. But the effect of water power is everywhere observable in graceful contours, caused by continuous motion, or in stony efflorescence, produced by intermittent humidity or dryness of the atmosphere. The action of the former is the more marked and striking, the latter more elaborate, and microscopically beautiful. The hygrometric condition of the caves is recorded in lovely forms, which lend enchantment to ornate bowers, sparkling grottoes, and fairy cities.

THE GRAND ARCH ENTRANCE.

THE GRAND ARCH—LOOKING EAST.

THE GRAND ARCH.

The Grand Arch runs east and west, and is about 150 yards in length, 60 feet high, and 70 feet wide at its western end. The eastern end is 80 feet high, and about 200 feet wide. Its proportions and outline are gloomily impressive, and rather awe-inspiring. It is like the portico to some great castle of Giant Despair. The eastern end is a marvel of natural architecture, and the wonder is how so spacious a roof can remain intact under a weight so enormous. The rugged walls are varied by many peculiar rocky formations. On the northern side is "the Lion," shaped in stone so as to form a fair representation of the monarch of the forest. "The Pulpit" and "the Organ Loft" are suggestive of portions of some grand old cathedral. Adjacent is "the Bacon Cave," where the formations represent "sides," like so many flitches in the shop of a dry salter. The roof is hung with enormous honeycombed masses of limestone, whose sombre shades deepen to blackness in numerous fissures and crannies and cavernous spaces. As seen from the floor the roof appears to be covered with rich bold tracery, engraved by Herculean hands. Near the basement are huge rocky projections, with deep recesses, which for ages have been the retreat of rock wallabies. Near the eastern entrance, lying on the ground, is a gigantic block of limestone, weighing from 1,500 to 2,000 tons, and which at some remote period fell, and tilted half over. This is evident from the stalactite formation which remains on it. Ascending the precipitous masses on the south-eastern side of the eastern entrance over rocks which are, on the upper surface, as smooth as glazed earthenware, a position is attained from which the magnitude of the ornaments of the roof can be estimated. It is then perceived that what, viewed from the floor of the archway, seemed like natural carving in moderately bold relief, are pendant bodies of matter extending downwards 10 to 15 feet, and of enormous bulk. Along the walls of the arch are caves running obliquely into the mountain 10, 15, and 20 feet, and the bottom of which is thick with wallaby "dust." Out of these caves are passages which enable the marsupials to pass from one rocky hall to another until they find a secure refuge in some obscure and sunless sanctuary. The wallaby dust resembles mosquito powder. Perhaps it would be equally efficacious. It is not improbable that the floors of these caves represent a moderate fortune. The explorer sinks over his boot tops in the fine pulverised matter, which, however, is not odoriferous, and is void of offence if a handkerchief be used as a respirator. The presence of this substance, and the oxidisation of its ammonia, probably account for the saltpetre in the crevices of adjacent rocks, although not absolutely necessary to the result, because, in the absence of such accessories, it is an admitted chemical fact that nitrifiable matter is not commonly absent from limestone. In the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky saltpetre manufacture was carried on to a great extent by lixiviation from 1812 to 1814, and during the Civil War a principal factor in the manufacture of gunpowder was obtained from the same source. Up amongst the rocks, midway between the floor and the roof of the eastern entrance to the Grand Arch, in the midst of the wallaby drives, and near to a haunt of the lyre bird, the present curator of the caves had his sleeping-place for 20 years. There he strewed his bed of rushes or of grasses and ferns and mosses; and certainly neither Philip Quarll nor Robinson Crusoe had ever a more magnificent dormitory.

CAMP CREEK.

Near to it is a sepulchral-looking place, which, before the Cave House was erected, was reserved for strong-minded lady visitors, and fenced off with a tent-pole and a rug. Farther on is a series of rocks, where bachelors could choose for pillows the softest stones in the arch and dream of angels. All these historic places are pointed out by way of contrast to the state of things now existing, and which, perhaps, in turn will form as great a contrast to the state of things 20 years hence.

From this part of the archway a much better view of the Pulpit, the Lion, and the Organ Loft can be obtained than is possible from the floor. Their massiveness is brought out with great effect. The stalactites and stalagmites which form the organ pipes taper with remarkable grace, and are set off by the shadows in the recesses which vary from twilight grey to the darkness of Erebus. Over all are ponderous masses of blue limestone, with immense convexities filled with perpetual gloom. The rocks leading to the caves, the upper part of which is smooth as glass, owe their polish to their long use by wallabies as a track to and from their favourite haunts. Here and there may be detected in the "dust" on the floor the footprint of the native pheasant. There may also be seen and felt boulders and rugged rocks lying about in strange disorder.

Leaving the Grand Archway by the eastern end, the excursionist descends, through a rocky defile interlaced with foliage, into a dry, stony creek, about which are growing some very rare ferns, as well as some which are common, but nevertheless beautiful, and also some handsome native creeping plants. From this point may be seen the pinnacle which rises over the archway to an altitude of about 500 feet. About 50 yards down this dry creek, and about 20 yards below the junction of the roads from the Grand Archway to the Devil's Coach House, is "The Rising of the Water." Here among the rocks in the bed of the creek the water bursts out of the ground like a sparkling fountain of considerable volume, and "gleams and glides" along a romantic dell "with many a silvery waterbreak." And if it does not "steal by lawns and grassy plots," or yet by "hazel covers," or "move the sweet forget-me-nots that grow for happy lovers," it does here and there "loiter round its cresses." Its banks are so steep that its course cannot be easily followed for any great distance, but, without much difficulty, it may be traced until it flows over a rocky ledge into a deep pool, where there is a wire ladder for the convenience of bathers. Thence it chatters on to the River Cox, whence it enters the Warragamba, which joins the Nepean a few miles above Penrith, and about 50 miles below the Pheasant's Nest. It does not, therefore, enter into the Sydney water supply, but passes through the Hawkesbury to the ocean.

THE DEVIL'S COACH HOUSE.

[CHAPTER IV.]

THE DEVIL'S COACH HOUSE.

The road from the Grand Arch to the Devil's Coach House is devious and uneven, with occasional fissures in the ground indicating the entrance to new subterranean marvels. To the right is the mouth of a cave yet unnamed and unexplored. A little farther on, high up in the rocky wall which connects the two converging mountains of limestone, is the Carlotta Arch, which resembles a Gothic window in the grand ruins of some venerable monastic pile, fretted and scarred by centuries of decay. Almost immediately after passing the line of the Carlotta Arch, the visitor arrives at the Devil's Coach House, which runs nearly north and south. It is an immense cave, whose proportions are better gauged than those of the Grand Arch, because the light flows in, not only from the ends, but also from the roof. At a height of some 200 feet, it has a large orifice in the dome, fringed with stately trees, the fore-shortening of which from their base upwards is very peculiar as seen from the bottom of the cave. On the floor are strewn about rocks of black and grey marble, smoothed and rounded by attrition, and weighing from a few pounds to many hundredweight. In flood-time the storm-waters dash these rocks against each other with tremendous force, and the roaring of the torrent resounds like thunder through the cave. In such wild seasons blocks of stone a ton weight or more are moved a considerable distance. The walls are partly composed of black marble with white veins, and some of the boulders on the floor contain marks of fossil shells.

The most magnificent view of the Devil's Coach House is from the interior of the cave near the northern entrance, from which the rise of the arch appears to be upwards of 200 feet. Its roof is fringed with stalactites, and the outlook is into a wildly romantic gully. Stalactites are suspended from the sides of the entrance, and in several places there are stalagmites covered with projections like petrified sponge, while near to them are formations resembling masses of shells commonly found on rocks by the seaside. Some of these combinations might be examined for hours, and yet leave new and interesting features to be discovered. Small pellucid drops glisten at the ends of the stalactites, illustrating the process of their formation. The large stalactites on the roof and small stalagmites on ledges near the floor of the cave, and vice versâ, afford a practical illustration of the theory that where water flows most freely the stalagmites are largest, and where it flows most reluctantly the stalactite formation is the most magnificent.

From an inspection of these two kinds of cave ornamentation it is seen that, whereas the former are porous and free from central tubes, sometimes running in a straight line and sometimes obliquely, the latter are solid, being formed by lamination and not by accretions of matter conveyed through small interior ducts to external points. This cave may appropriately be called the Marble Hall. Portions of the walls are graced with a "formation" from the limestone rocks above, the stucco having flowed in shapes both grotesque and arabesque. Some of the interstices are filled with stalactites and stalagmites of various colours and proportions. Many stalactites on the roof of the mouth of the cave are said to be from 12 to 15 feet long. All around are entrances to numerous interior spaces adorned with stalactites of the most delicate hues. Some are tinged with various gradations of blue; others are of salmon colour, and delicate fawn. Others again are sober grey, and white shaded with neutral tint. The rocks are decorated with little patches of moss, from rich old gold to living green. The harmony of colour is marvellous, and the combined effect unique. Nature herself has so painted and ornamented the cave as to give a lesson to professors of decorative art. The vision of rocky beauty grows upon the imagination the observer until at last it seems like a new revelation of the enchanting effects which can be produced by natural combination.

To the artist this cave presents attractions of a kind not to be found in any other of the wonderful caves of Jenolan, although commonly it receives small attention from visitors, who recognise its grand proportions, but are impatient to witness the more elaborate and brilliant features in the hidden recesses of the mountain.

Why this spacious cavern should be called the Devil's Coach House (except on the lucus a non lucendo principle) few would divine. The name of his Satanic majesty is often associated with horses and horse-racing, but not generally with coaches and coach-houses. In this connection, however, it is necessary to observe class distinctions. The cavern is not sufficiently monstrous to be used by Milton's personification of the rebellious archangel, nor sufficiently hideous for Burns's "Auld Clootie," with hoofs and horns. Coleridge's devil or Southey's devil (as illustrated in "The Devil's Thoughts" of the one, and "The Devil's Walk" of the other) was neither too grand nor too ignoble to notice coach-houses. But then, he was a sarcastic fiend, for when he "saw an Apothecary on a white horse ride by on his vocations," he "thought of his old friend Death in the Revelations"—which was rather severe on the pharmacist. But leaving the man of drugs—

"He saw a cottage with a double coach-house,
A cottage of gentility;
And the Devil did grin, for his darling sin
Is pride that apes humility."

The cottage at the caves is not particularly "genteel" in appearance. The coach-house is large enough to hold almost as many horses as were kept by Solomon, and as many chariots as were possessed by Pharaoh, and at one end it is "double;" but there was no thought of Pharaoh, or Solomon, or Coleridge, or Southey when it was named.

THE NORTHERN ENTRANCE TO THE DEVIL'S COACH HOUSE.

It was not because this huge place was considered big enough to be the Devil's Coach House that it was called after the Devil, nor because it was thought to be a suitable place for Satan to "coach" his disciples in; nor had the person who named it any intention of paying a compliment to poetic genius. It was called the Devil's Coach House for reasons similar to those which created the nomenclature of the numerous Devil's Pinches and Devil's Peaks, Devil's Mills and Devil's Punchbowls, in various parts of the world. Captain Cook more than a century ago gave the name of the Devil's Basin to a harbour in Christmas Sound, on the south side of Tierra del Fuego, because of its gloomy appearance—it being surrounded by "savage rocks," which deprive it of the rays of the sun. For similar reasons, perhaps, the name of the Devil's Coach House was given to this interesting portion of the Jenolan Caves, which are surrounded by mountains and "savage rocks," and from which the rays of the sun are excluded, except during a few hours per day. In winter the sunshine does not glint on to the roof of the cave house till about 10, and at about 2 in the afternoon the valley is wrapped in shade.

It is 45 or 46 years since James Whalan came suddenly upon the mouth of this cave, and it so impressed him with its rugged grandeur and weirdness that when he returned home he reported that he had been to the end of the world, and had got into the Devil's Coach House. So by that term it is still called, although it has been since named the Easter Cave, because of a visit by some distinguished member of the Government service during Easter, which in New South Wales is now as favourite a holiday time as it was when kept as a festival in honour of the Goddess of Light and Spring. For a short period in the afternoon one end of the cave is flooded with the warm beams of the sun. Then it is at its best, and, as the enamoured hand of fancy gleans "the treasured pictures of a thousand scenes," so, after the bright rays have disappeared, and the cave is seen in the shade or by "the pale moonlight," its beauties change from hour to hour, like shadows on the mountains or the cloud glories of an autumn sunset.

[CHAPTER V.]

THE NIGHT CAVES.

The "day" caves of Jenolan, although grandly picturesque, are but slightly typical of the interior caverns. As the few bars of harmony dashed off by way of prelude to an intricate musical composition prepare the ear for the movement which is to follow, so an inspection of the external caves trains the faculty of observation for the ready appreciation of the more elaborately beautiful objects in the dark recesses of the enchanted mountain. The contrast between the two is as marked as the difference between the costly pearls of a regal diadem and the rough exterior of the shells which first concealed them.

To explore the "night" caves it is necessary to be furnished with artificial light, and each excursionist is provided with a candle fitted into a holder, the handle of which is like the barrel of a carriage lamp, and immediately underneath the flame is a saucer-shaped guard with the edge turned inwards, so as to catch the drips from the sperm. By means of this arrangement the lights may be presented at almost any angle without doing injury to the caves, except in regard to the smoke, which although slight, is nevertheless in degree perilous to the wondrous purity of the formations. The principal features of the "night" caves are illuminated by the magnesium light, which is rich in chemical rays and burns with great brilliancy. There should not be allowed in the caves any colorific or other light which would cause smoke by imperfect combustion, or emit volatile substances likely to change the interior hues. If their pristine beauty—or as much of it as remains—is to be preserved, the caves ought to be illuminated by electricity, which will neither affect the temperature nor soil the most delicate of Nature's handiwork. The smoke of candles in a quiescent atmosphere like that of the caves, cannot fail, in process of time, to have a deleterious effect. Years ago, in the Wingecarribee country, there were some fairy gullies. The sides were flanked with sassafras columns, the roofs were covered with branches interlaced by creepers that excluded the sunbeams, and on the banks of the creeks which trickled through the centre were tree-ferns of marvellous beauty. Their perfect fronds were lovely—their growth prodigious; but that in which their charm chiefly lay was their unexampled delicacy of colour. When the natural shade was removed, and they were subject to wind, and rain, and dust, they became commonplace. They grew like other tree-ferns, and were ranked with ordinary things. So with the caves. Their wondrous beauty and attractiveness are found in their freedom from defilement. In their illumination there should be neither smoke nor heat, and it is a question whether within their precincts incense ought to be burned, even to King Nicotine.

THE NETTLE CAVE.

[CHAPTER VI.]

THE NETTLE CAVE.

The Nettle Cave is for the most part a place of twilight. If visitors are incautious in approaching it they will soon come to the conclusion that it has been properly named, for all around are fine clumps of herbaceous weeds with sharp tubular hairs upon vesicles filled with irritating fluid. The sting of a nettle and the sting of an adder resemble each other, but are yet dissimilar. The adder strikes his tubular fang into his prey, but the nettle victim impinges upon the tubular hair which communicates with the acrid vesicle.

The Nettle Cave is reached by climbing 170 feet to the left of The Grand Arch, and if in the ascent the visitor be invited to smell a plant with alternate leaves and racemes of not very conspicuous flowers, it would be well for him to decline with thanks. There are some rough cut steps leading to this cave, and on one side is a galvanised wire rope supported by iron stanchions let into the rocks, which makes the ascent tolerably safe. The road runs between two bluff rocks, which for a considerable distance rise almost perpendicularly, and then curve so as to form a segment of a circle some 150 feet overhead. The cave is barred from wall to wall by a light iron gate sufficient to prevent improper intrusion, not ponderous enough for a penal establishment, but sufficiently pronounced to suggest Richard Lovelace's lines—

"Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage."

Descending some of the rough stones and winding along a footpath, the tourist descends into a chamber below a magnificent series of rocks covered with beautiful "formation" from the dripping roofs above. This is called "The Willows," because of the resemblance it bears to the graceful and beautiful appearance of the Salix babylonica, on which in the olden time captive Israelites hung their harps and "wept when they remembered Zion." The entrance to this cave is circuitous. First there are some rocky steps to be climbed, and then the road winds through avenues of "willow" formation up to the summit. From this point about 60 or 70 feet down is a funnel-shaped declivity resembling the mouth of an extinct volcano. In some respects it is like the "Blow Hole" at Kiama (a natural fountain, inland, fed by ocean waves which force their way through a water-worn tunnel). Undoubtedly that also is one of the wonders of the world, but some time since it was utilised by the local corporation as a receptacle for dead horses and defunct cattle! From this declivity in the Nettle Cave the visitor naturally shrinks, being dubious as to where his remains would be found if he were to make an uncertain step. In his timorous progress, however, his attention is soon arrested by some splendid stalagmites to the left of the hellish-looking vacuity. One of the most noble is about four feet in diameter at the base, and from 12 to 14 feet high, covered with curiously-shaped ornamentation, and having minute stalactites projecting from the sides. All about it are nodules of delicate fretwork, as lovely as the coral of the ancient sea out of which this mountain was made millions of years ago. On the apex is a gracefully-tapered cone; and hard by is a small stalagmite covered with prickles as sharply defined as those of the echinus. All around are limestone pictures of surpassing loveliness. There is not much variety of colour, but the formation is infinite in its variety. It is intended to have the hideous and perilous-looking volcanic funnel previously mentioned guarded by wirework, which is necessary to ensure the complete safety of sightseers. If an unfortunate wight were to trip, he might fall a distance of about 70 feet, and be shot without ceremony into the Devil's Coach House. One remarkable stalagmite in the vicinity of this infernal shaft is shaped like a hat, and another is like a gigantic mushroom. The floor of the cave is thin, and when stamped upon vibrates in imitation of an earthquake wave. Stalactites in rich profusion depend from the roof, and here and there are clumps of bats, clinging together like little swarms of bees. The stalactites are tipped with drops of lime-water clear as crystal at the lowest point, and becoming gradually opaque. It is also noticeable that while the drops at the ends of the stalactites appear to be perfectly still globular bodies, their molecules seem to be in perpetual motion. The opaque part of the drops thickens until it resembles sperm, and then the gradation is almost imperceptible until it unites with the solid formation. All around are curiously-shaped drives, one of which has been explored until it communicates with the Imperial Cave. It is not an inviting entry, for it is low and narrow, and has sharp stalactites on the roof. The floor is covered with very fine dust, about the eighth of an inch thick, which, however, seems not to rise, and when struck with a hammer the sound is like a blow struck upon a carpet, and the dull thud reverberates in the caverns below.

From the end of the cave, looking towards the mouth, the appearance is particularly wild. The stalagmites in front resemble prisoners in some castle keep, and the part of the cave farther on, upon which the light falls, near to the barred entrance, makes the interior shade seem more gloomy. There is one remarkable pillar about 10 feet in diameter from the floor to the roof of the cave; and seeing that it is about 30 feet in height, and has been made by the constant dripping of lime-water, visitors may speculate as to its age, and statisticians may estimate the number of drips required for its creation. Along the sides of the cave are beautiful pillars. Some are like trunks of trees, gnarled and knotted, and some like elaborately-carved columns. There are grottoes and alcoves, and terraces formed by runs of water; Gothic arches and Etruscan columns, carvings of most cunning elaboration, and stalactites more noticeable for their massiveness than for their grace. There are narrow chasms descending into blackness, through which future discoveries may be made. On the water-formed terraces are numerous stalagmites resembling congewoi and other zoophytes. It seems as though Nature had fashioned the cave after a kaleidoscopic view of the most remarkable objects in marine and vegetable life. At the end of this section the roof rises, and is pierced by an inverted pinnacle. The walls are composed of masses of stalactite formation, imperfectly developed by reason of pressure. Near at hand liquid substances have fallen, and petrified so rapidly as to resemble streaks of lava which had suddenly cooled and formed cords and ligaments like grand muscles and tendons.

The eastern end of the cave runs into the Devil's Coach House, about 120 feet above the coach-house floor. The opening is very beautiful, being ornamented with columns and pinnacles, and the view from this point to the interior of the cave is unexampled. Scores of breaches in the roof and sides can be seen leading to other marvellous places—there being cave upon cave and innumerable changes of formation upon the ground. In rocky basins the débris is largely composed of minute bones. The "remains" may be taken up by handfuls. The teeth of bats and native cats—the vertebræ of marsupials and snakes—the wing-bones of birds, and other fragments of the animal world are mixed together in a mammoth charnel-house, whose grandeur could hardly be surpassed by the most costly and artistically designed mausoleum.

The Ball Room—an upper storey of the Nettle Cave—is reached by mounting twenty-nine steps cut into the rock. Near the eastern entrance are two stalactitic figures fashioned like vultures about to engage in combat. All around the little plateau of Terpsichore are huge stalagmites, resembling domes, crowded together and pressing into one another. Some are set off with stalactites; others are honeycombed. Thence the direction is still upwards, and the ascent is made by means of about 50 wooden steps, with a guard rail on each side. The formations are striking and graceful. Pointing upward is a gauntleted hand and forearm of a warrior of the olden time. There are representations of bewigged legal luminaries and bearded sages like Old Father Christmas or Santa Claus. Some of the columns which support the archway have tier upon tier of stalactites, drooping so as to counterfeit water flowing from a fountain, alternating with stalactite formation like boughs of weeping willow. One prominent stalagmite is like the back of a newly-shorn sheep, with shear-marks in the wool. On the western side is a figure like that of an orator in the act of exhortation. The forehead is bald, long white locks are flowing on to the shoulders, one arm is upraised, and the pose gives an idea of earnestness and force. In front, just below the bust, is a reading desk of stone, the outer edge of which is fringed with stalactites. From this place are steps leading to the arch. They are safe and convenient. Underneath them is still to be seen the wire ladder formerly used to pass from the Nettle Cave to the Arch Cave, and it is easy to understand the trepidation of nervous visitors when they were swaying about on it in mid-air over the dark abyss below. After resting for a moment in the midst of a stalagmitic grotto, the visitor ascends some stone steps towards the Grand Arch, proceeds through a beautiful cavern with Norman and Doric pillars, composed almost entirely of stalagmites, and enters the Arch Caves, which were so called because at that time they were accessible only through the Carlotta Arch. They are now, as previously described, approached through the Nettle Cave by means of the wooden staircase, which was built about three years ago.

[CHAPTER VII.]

THE ARCH CAVE.

The Arch Cave runs north-westerly from the line of road to the Carlotta Arch, and has a gradual descent. It is about a hundred yards long, and in some places about half a chain wide. The roof is decked with beauty; the floor is covered with dust. There is now but one complete column in the centre, and that is formed by a stalactite which extends in a straight line from the roof to the floor. It is surrounded by a number of other magnificent pendants of a similar kind, more or less ornate, and crowded together in rich profusion. Some of them have grown until they nearly touch bold rocks which jut out from the walls, and the spaces between the larger cylindrical forms are filled by stalactites of various lesser lengths, some of which are figured so as to represent festoons of flowers. The complete pillar tapers from the upper to the lower end. For about two-thirds of the way down it is compounded of several stalactitic lines; the remainder is a simple shaft with irregular surface. To the right of it is a marvellous piece of formation like the head of a lion with the forelegs and the hoofs of a bull, posed so as to resemble Assyrian sculpture.

At one time there were in this cave five pillars as perfect as the one which remains, but in 1860 they were destroyed by a Goth from Bathurst. There are numerous columns of dimensions not so great along the sides of the cave, and at every step appear fresh objects of admiration. Some of the stalactites are resonant, and so is the floor, which, on the thinnest portion, responds imitatively to the tramping of feet. In a passage on the right hand side is a stalactite which the cave-keeper has carefully watched for 18 years, in order to form some idea as to the rate of stalactitic growth. He has always found a drop of water clinging to the lowest surface as though it were ready to fall, and yet during the whole term of 18 years the actual addition to the solid stalactite has been only half-an-inch in length, of a thickness equal to that of an ordinary cedar-covered lead pencil. It is evident, from observation of other portions of this cave, that some formations have been created in a manner less slow. Still, it is probable there are stalactites the growth of which has been more gradual than the one subjected to special scrutiny.

The entrance furnishes an illustration of damage done by careless visitors years ago, and of the necessity for constant care to preserve the caves from destruction. When this cavern was first opened to the public the floor was white as snow. It is now black and greasy, as well as dusty. The change has been brought about by the pattering of feet encased in soiled boots, and by drips from candles and torches used before the present lighting arrangements were adopted. Some of the stalactites have their lower portions damaged in a similar way. But, worse still, an elaborate and very attractive specimen, resembling cockscomb, has been damaged by fracture, and made incomplete by unauthorised appropriation. The porosity of some of the rocks can here be readily distinguished. Their surface is like that of pumice stone. In dry weather the walls are sparkling; in wet seasons they are moist and dull. At the far end of the cave the floor is covered with little indurated lumps with carved surfaces. They are all similar in shape, and vary in bulk from the size of quandong seeds or nuts, of which bracelets are sometimes made, to that of a mandarin orange. Perhaps they were fabricated on the roof and became detached. It is hardly possible they could have been formed where they lie without being joined together in a solid mass.

THE ARCH CAVE.

Here perfect silence reigns. It is so profound as to be almost painful, and the darkness is so dense that when the candles are extinguished the visitor can pass a solid object before his eyes without the shadow of a shade being perceptible. It is not suggestive of the darkness which—

"Falls from the wings of Night
Like a feather that is wafted downwards
From an eagle in its flight."

Nor yet of "the trailing garments of the Night" sweeping "through her marble halls." There is nothing to give the idea of action. Solitary confinement for 24 hours in such a "separate cell" would drive some men mad. At the end of the cave is a mass of stalactites, through which is a passage leading to "The Belfry," where are some large stalactites, three of which, when struck with a hard substance, sound like church bells. One of them has a deep tone, equivalent to C natural. The others do not vibrate so as to produce perfect notes according to musical scale, nor are their sounds either rich or full.

THE CARLOTTA ARCH.

[CHAPTER VIII.]

THE CARLOTTA ARCH.

On returning to the mouth of the Arch Cave, the tourist proceeds towards the Carlotta Arch—so named in honour of a daughter of the Surveyor-General of New South Wales, Mr. P. F. Adams, who visited the caves 10 or 12 years ago, and has always taken an interest in their exploration and preservation. Ascending some stone steps, guarded by galvanised wire, an excellent view of the Ball Room to the eastward is obtained. The steps make access easy. Previously the rocks were slippery, in consequence of the polish given to them by the feet of marsupials, and the return journey was accomplished by holding on to a rope, and sliding down the glassy surface.

The entrance to the Carlotta Arch is protected by a wire railing, about 35 feet by 8 or 10 feet. Passing through the iron gate, the visitor finds himself on a little platform. Hundreds of feet below is a gully, rippling at the bottom of which is a rill of water, which sings as it goes, and whose melody, softened by distance, is pleasant as the hum of bees or the carolling of birds. Above is a hoary rock, rugged and bare, with the exception of some clumps of lilies which flourish and bloom in its inaccessible clefts. From this point the tourist ascends the Nettle Rocks for about 60 or 70 feet. Some steps are to be cut here, and certainly they are much needed, for at present the journey is very toilsome and difficult. From the end of the protected portion to the summit—70 or 80 feet—the acclivity may be comfortably surmounted by ordinarily active people. The Carlotta Arch is about 100 feet high and about 70 feet wide, with an interior fringe of stalactites. The picture seen through it is exceedingly grand, including majestic trees and romantic gullies, huge mountains and immense rocks, with bold escarpments. The walls of the arch are pierced like a fortress. Its entire superstructure represents the union of two mountains by a natural bridge, clad with trees and shrubs and creeping plants which trail gracefully down its sides. On the summit are eucalypti, and conspicuous amongst them is an iron guard for the protection of passengers going over the viaduct. About half-way up this track from the arch to the bridge (which is the concluding portion of the new road from Mount Victoria), a good view can be obtained of McEwan's Creek, where the water has broken through the hills, leaving the limestone rocks and caves sometimes on the one side and sometimes on the other for a distance of three miles up the valley running northerly. To the westward is the Zigzag, leading to the cave-house by the route from Tarana, and from which can be obtained the grandest view en route from Oberon to Jenolan. Here, after having spent an hour or two in the caves, it is pleasant to bask in the golden sunshine and watch the gaudy parrots flit by. From this point to the northward the limestone is visible to its full extent till it is overlapped by higher mountains. It is about three miles in length, by a maximum of half a mile in width. Immediately to the south the limestone dyke is covered, but it crops up again about seven miles distant, and continues on the surface for 15 to 20 miles, in the direction of Goulburn. Near to what is called the Gallery (the approach to the bridge over the arch) is an old gum tree, growing right over the centre of the Devil's Coach House, and 500 feet above the gullies, which can be seen by looking over the precipice. If it were a blue gum tree, "and nothing more," it would be as uninteresting as the "yellow primrose by a river's brim" was to Peter Bell. As a specimen of its kind this tree is a failure; but it happens to be in the centre of the cave reserve, and the "blaze" on it bears the mark, "F 69." From this point the reserve extends two and a half miles east and west by five miles north and south, and is certainly one of the most wonderful areas dedicated to the public.

In the rocks near to the Centre Tree is an orifice called "The Devil's Hole." It pierces the mountain obliquely, but without much deviation from a straight line, and a stone thrown down it takes, according to its weight, from nine to twelve seconds to find a resting-place on the floor of the Devil's Coach House! This is an experiment which should not be tried without precaution, and then only under official sanction, otherwise some serious accident may occur. It would be well to erect notice-boards at this and several adjacent places, warning persons not to cast stones into the caverns, for the whole mountain is full of holes and caves and drives. A piece of rock cast heedlessly into a crevice or perforation in one cave might mean death to a tourist in lower cavernous regions, and there is neither medical man nor coroner within convenient distance. From the bridge (which is guarded by wire ropes) on the western side, the visitor looks down on the Elder Cave; the Zigzag is in front, and below is the sylvan valley from which the "ermin'd frost" has been thawed, and which now "laughs back the sun." To the eastward are in view of the spectator the Nettle and Arch Caves gate, the south entrance to the Devil's Coach House, and the waterfall to the Cave River. In the distance can be discerned a place known as Oaky Camp, or McEwan's Camp, which is of interest in connection with bushranging episodes of the olden time. From the highest point of the hill over the Grand Archway the cave-house can be seen nestling in the valley 500 feet below. Perched upon this pinnacle, with terrible depths on each side and awe-inspiring grandeur at every turn, the beholder is apt to realise how very small is the space he fills in the economy of Nature, how inadequate is language to express deep emotions of the mind, and how marvellous are the works of the Creator!

[CHAPTER IX.]

THE ELDER CAVE.

On leaving-the Carlotta Arch and the bridge, the visitor—mentally gratified, physically tired, and conscious that his perceptive faculties have been somewhat strained—rejoices that the cave-house is conveniently near, so that he can promptly ensconce himself in an easy-chair and meditate upon the charming scenes upon which his eyes have feasted. If he be unusually robust he may economise the return journey by taking a peep at the Elder Cave, which lies just off his homeward course. It derives its name from the elder trees which grow about it and conceal its entrance, which is at the bottom of a "ragged" shaft similar to that described in the tragedy of "Titus Andronicus," whose authorship is disputed, but which Samuel Phelps and others have no doubt was written by Shakespeare. It resembles the "subtle hole" where Bassianus lay imbrued "all of a heap like a slaughtered lamb." But that was near an alder, and not an elder, tree; and, so far as is known, the pit which leads to the Elder Cave has no associations so tragic as those which are inseparable from the horrible brutalities of "Titus Andronicus." Its mouth is not covered with "rude growing briars," nor are there upon the leaves "drips of new-shed blood as fresh as morning dew distilled on flowers." On the contrary, it is a rather cheerful-looking pit, filled up with foliage like an arborescent bouquet in an enormous natural vase. For a long time its cavity was completely obscured by the leafy covering, and it was first entered by climbing along a branch level with the surface of the ground, and descending the trunk of the tree to the bottom of the well. There are several elders in the pit, which, being unusually moist, is favourable to their growth, and they bear splendid cymes of cream-coloured flowers and black berries suggestive of spiced home-made wine.

The Elder Cave was found by Mr. Wilson in 1856, but it has not had much attention bestowed upon it, probably because its beauties have been eclipsed by later discoveries. The first part consists of some rather large chambers connected by small passages, rough inside, and difficult to explore. All are pretty, and one, named "The Chapel," contains stalactites called "shawls," on account of their resemblance to ladies' vestments so designated. One of these is about five feet long by six inches deep, and a quarter of an inch thick. Half of it is of glassy clearness. The floor is of ornate formation. The next chamber is called the "Coral Cave." It is difficult of access. The way for about 100 yards varies from only two to four feet from floor to ceiling. Nearly at the end is a hole about 12 feet in diameter and 15 feet deep, containing fossil bones. From floor to roof the formation is grand. There are a few fine stalagmites, but the chief beauty is in the stalactitic growth. Many of the stalactites hang from the lowest shelving rock to the floor, and form an alabaster palisade. Immense bunches of snow-white limestone droop from the roof, and one unusually large conical mass tapers off until it connects with the apex of a pyramidal block on the floor. In contrast with these ponderous specimens are numerous straw-like glassy tubes. Portions of the floor are covered with beautiful coral.

Near the mouth of this Pit Cave is an aperture of special interest, because it is the entrance to the shaft at the bottom of which, on the 16th February 1879, the intrepid curator discovered the Imperial Cave, which is one of the most magnificent opened to the public. He made three separate attempts before he was able to bottom this deep black hole. On the first occasion he was lowered into it at the end of a rope, and when all the line had been paid out was dangling in mid-air at the end of his tether. When he was let down a second time with a longer cord it was found to be deficient, and the cave-keeper was still suspended in ebon space. The second failure made him still more resolute. He did not believe that the black hole into which he had descended was the bottomless pit, and so he tried again to fathom its inky depths, and at a distance of 90 feet from the surface alighted upon the rocky floor of what is now called the Imperial Cave.

Cave exploration is not what would be commonly regarded as a pleasant pastime. It requires a lissom body, plenty of physical strength, and a strong nerve to worm along narrow passages, without any certainty of being able to reach a turning-place, and with the risk of being so wedged in as to make retreat impossible. A stout heart is necessary to enable a man to descend to unknown depths of blackness from mouths of fearsome pits, close proximity to which makes one's flesh creep. A fracture of the rope or the falling of a piece of rock might give the explorer his quietus. A somewhat sensational illustration of this kind of peril is given in Griffin's "Studies in Literature." The eldest son of George D. Prentice, one of the sweet singers of the New World, determined to fathom the maelstrom of the Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. A long rope of great strength was procured, and with a heavy fragment of rock attached to it, like a stone at the end of a kellick rope, it was let down and swung about to clear the course of loose stones. "Then the young hero of the occasion, with several hats drawn over his head to protect it as far as possible against any masses falling from above, and with a light in his hand and the rope fastened around his body, took his place over the awful pit, and directed the half-dozen men, who held the end of the rope, to let him down into the Cimmerian gloom. Occasionally masses of earth and rock whizzed past, but none struck him. On his way, at a distance of 100 feet, the spray caused by a cataract which rushed from the side down the abyss nearly extinguished his light. One hundred and ninety feet down he stood on the bottom of the pit. Returning to the mouth of the cave the pull was an exceedingly severe one, and the rope, being ill-adjusted around his body, gave him the most excruciating pain. But soon his pain was forgotten in a new and dreadful peril. When he was 90 feet from the mouth of the pit and 100 from the bottom, swaying and swinging in mid air, he heard rapid and excited words of horror and alarm above, and soon learned that the rope by which he was upheld had taken fire from the friction of the timber over which it passed. Several moments of awful suspense to those above, and still more awful to him below, ensued. To them and to him a fatal and instant catastrophe seemed inevitable. But the fire was extinguished with a bottle of water belonging to himself, and then the party above, though almost exhausted by their labour, succeeded in drawing him to the top. He was as calm and self-possessed as upon his entrance into the pit; but all of his companions, overcome by fatigue, sank down upon the ground, and his friend, Professor Wright, from over-exertion and excitement, fainted, and remained for some time insensible. The young adventurer left his name carved in the depths of the maelstrom—the name of the first and only person that ever gazed upon its mysteries."

The keeper of the Jenolan Caves has had many experiences quite as thrilling as that of the son of George D. Prentice, who, some time after his descent into the maelstrom, fell in the conflict between the Northern and the Southern States of the American Union. The curator has hundreds of times wormed his way in the darkness through narrow drives and descended black holes of unknown dimensions by means of ropes and ladders. He has burrowed about like a rabbit, squeezing through small apertures, occasionally having his clothes torn off him by stalactites, and his knees wounded by miniature stalagmites, and his sides abrased by the sharp corners of projecting rocks. When being lowered by ropes he has run the risk of being brained by falling débris. Fortunately, he has been preserved from serious injury, and is still as lithe as a ferret. Christopher Columbus made wonderful maritime discoveries in the Western hemisphere, and Captain Cook distinguished himself in the Southern seas, but neither the bold Genoese nor the stout-hearted Yorkshireman who thrice circumnavigated the globe could have thrown more earnestness into his work than has been displayed by the subterranean explorer at Jenolan, of whom it may be said, without prejudice to his good name, that he has done more underground engineering than any "road-and-bridge" member of the Legislative Assembly, performed more turning and twisting than the most slippery Minister of the Crown who has ever held a portfolio in New South Wales, and found secluded chambers enough to permit every political or social Adullamite—"every one that is in distress, and every one that is in debt, and every one that is discontented"—to have a little cave of his own. As the visitor has to be guided by the curator through labyrinthine passages as intricate as the most puzzling mazes of Crete or Egypt, in order to see fairy grottoes, crystal cities, jewel caskets, coral caves, and mystic chambers which he has discovered, it may be here recorded that Mr. Jeremiah Wilson was born in Ireland, near Enniskillen, that he was three years old when he came to New South Wales, 43 years ago, and that his family have lived continuously near Oberon. His first visit to Jenolan was with a party of excursionists. He has ever since taken a romantic interest in the caves, and from the time of his appointment as cave-keeper in 1867 until now his enthusiasm for exploratory work appears to have never flagged.

THE LUCAS CAVE.

[CHAPTER X.]

THE LUCAS CAVE.

The Lucas Cave presents, in grand combination, almost every type of subterranean beauty to be found in the natural limestone caves of Jenolan. It rivals the Imperial Cave, which, however, is commonly regarded as the more attractive, and displays a more dazzling magnificence than that which characterises either the Arch or the Elder Cave. The approach to the Lucas Cave is by a zigzag path from the valley, leaving the high Pinnacle Rock to the left hand. The route is not difficult to agile people, but the road would be greatly improved by the cutting of suitable steps. On gaining the top of the ridge the waterfall is in front. To the left are rocks rising like a vast citadel to a height of 900 feet, at the summit of which are immense cliffs with deep gorges between them. The distance is too great to enable the visitor to discern their geological composition. Some of them seem as though they had been shaped by human hands in the time of the Pharaohs. They remind one of the enormous stones in the Great Pyramid of Egypt, or the massive blocks in the Temple of the Sun at Heliopolis, and the limestone ridges suggest the mighty Nile which runs through similar ranges. These elevated pinnacles and chasms are favourite resorts of marsupials. Wallabies may be seen leaping from rock to rock and peering out from the crevices. As they are not molested they afford visitors ample opportunity to watch their graceful movements. The distance from the top of the ridge to the mouth of the cave is about 100 yards, with a fall of 60 feet. The descent in some places is so steep as to make it difficult in dry seasons. In wet weather it is dangerous, the rocks being covered with slippery clay.

The grand cavern, called the "Lucas Cave," was so named in recognition of valuable services rendered by the Hon. John Lucas, M.L.C., who, from the 8th December 1864, until the dissolution of Parliament on the 15th December 1869, represented in the Legislative Assembly the electorate of Hartley, in which Jenolan is situated. He used his influence to obtain the dedication of the reserve, and make provision for the care and improvement of the caves. It was on his recommendation that the present cave-keeper was appointed to the office of curator. His foresight and activity are suitably commemorated by the association of his name with objects of beauty, the fame of which is now spread throughout the whole civilised world.

The opening to the Lucas Cave is very massive, and has a rather steep fall of about 12 feet from the pathway to the floor of the cavern. The entrance is about 30 feet wide and 25 feet high. The roof of the portico is ornamented by rocks, which in shape and colour appear to be in keeping with the gloomy-looking tunnel beyond. The overhanging masses are honeycombed and convoluted in a remarkable manner, and thin off to points like stalactites. The curved, tapering forms are in groups of various dimensions, drooping in folds like those of loosely-fitting garments. They represent not "formation," but the original rock, out of the crevices of which the softer portions and earthy substances have been extracted by the ordinary operations of Nature. To the left of the archway is a bulky convoluted pillar, rising from the surrounding blocks and boulders to the uppermost part of the portico, and to the right of the archway is a fine piece of stalagmite formation about 10 feet in height. In the centre, immediately behind it, is a large stalactite, and near by an extensive patch which looks like conglomerate of lime and pebbles. On the outer walls are flowering shrubs and creeping plants, including one which bears a strong resemblance to the climbing fig (Ficus stipulata), which clothes with pleasant verdure many an ugly wall in and about Sydney. The rock colouring is especially fine and beautifully shaded all the way from the broad daylight to the beginning of the interior blackness, which is somewhat sharply defined by a fringe of stalactites like the vertical bars of a portcullis.

The immediate entrance to this cave is begrimed with dust. A few yards onward there is an iron gate. The guide opens it and carefully locks in his visitors, who light their candles and proceed by a downward path. The descent is about 80 feet, partly by steps cut zigzag fashion, and then on a sloping floor covered with débris. There is a marked difference in the temperature, which is many degrees higher than that of the outward air, and several degrees warmer than the interior of the Arch and Nettle Caves. Small flies surprise the excursionists by the suddenness of their appearance, and by the narrow limits of their habitat. They live in the zone between daylight and darkness. In the region of perpetual night the only signs of animated nature are clusters of bats. The lighted candles serve to make the surrounding darkness more pronounced.

Where the rays of light pierce through the night to its rocky boundary indistinct, irregular lines can be seen like the ribs of a skeleton, and it is easy to conjure up all sorts of uncanny shapes, from hobgoblins to anthropophagi. The only sounds audible, or apparently audible, are the quickened respiration and the throbbing of the heart. When the voice is raised its effect is strange, and there is no responsive echo. Darkness and silence dwell together. After spending a few seconds—or minutes—in their company, the curator lights his magnesium lamp, and the visitor finds himself in the precincts of "The Cathedral," in the centre of which is a large stalagmite. The roof rises to a height of about 300 feet, 70 feet loftier than Canterbury Cathedral or Notre Dame, and within 100 feet of the altitude of St. Paul's! The walls are composed of limestone, terraced with tier upon tier of stalagmites brought into bold relief by the gloom of innumerable fantastically-shaped recesses. The preacher is Solitude; his theme is "Awful Stillness." Wandering through the nave to the south, the visitor walks over caves not yet opened, but the existence of which can be proved by dropping little pebbles into dark recesses and listening to the percussion on floors more or less remote. In an aisle of the Cathedral leading to the Music Hall, there is another grandly-arched cavern with a steep descent into an abysmal depth. Here on the one side are numerous stalactites, white as virgin snow, and on the other similarly-shaped formations of carbonate of lime tinged with oxide of iron—some of them so deeply as to present the colour of a boiled lobster's crust. This is a favourite clustering place for bats, and numbers of these membranous-winged quadrupeds may be seen snoozing together on the roof.

THE MUSIC HALL.

By means of a wire ladder the excursionist descends still deeper into the bowels of the earth. He then goes farther down by 18 or 20 steps, cut in a clayey substance, to the vestibule of the Music Hall. Some of the stalagmites are stained with clay. They have evidently been used as steadying-posts by visitors who had previously placed their hands on the red earth when working their way down the declivity where the steps are now formed. The other stalagmites away out of reach are white and glistening. The approach to the Music Hall, which was discovered in the summer of 1860, is low. The passage to it is about 35 yards long. The floor is composed entirely of "formation," and at the sides are numerous columns of different colours. The Music Hall itself is about 12 feet in height, and runs out at the end to about two feet. It is called the "Music Hall" because of its very fine acoustic properties. A weak voice raised in song or oratory sounds full and sonorous. This hall encloses a secret which architects of public buildings might covet, and the wonder is how such tonic effects are produced in a chamber which presents so many obstructions to the waves of sound. The floor contains a series of basins, curiously shaped by the water which has been retained in them, until it has escaped by percolation to form stalactites and stalagmites at some lower level. The edges of these shallow reservoirs are sharply defined and gracefully moulded. The formation of the walls is extremely delicate. Some of it is white and some like yellow coral. The roof has been slightly defaced by certain nineteenth century cads. In various places the "mark of the beast," in lampblack, has been produced by holding candles near to the ceiling and moving them about gradually, and the sooty hieroglyphics remain unto this day as an evidence of vanity and folly. The floor, which was once like alabaster, is now soiled by the tramping of feet. But, notwithstanding these defects, the Music Hall is still very beautiful.

THE SHAWL CAVE.

THE SHAWL CAVE.

Returning to the main passage, the tourist descends 41 steps, and enters the Shawl Cave, a magnificent chamber, the roof of which slopes at an angle of about 43 degrees. Into one side the "formation" of carbonate of lime has floated like lava in volumes, and presents the appearance of a suddenly congealed cascade. All the adjacent rocks are covered with fine sheets of formation, white and coloured, and hanging in graceful folds. On a far-off wall is more formation of a similar kind, projecting from a perpendicular rock, and variegated with superb tracery and colouring. The "shawls" hang parallel to each other. They gradually increase from six inches to three feet in depth, in a lateral length of from 12 to 15 feet, and at a distance appear as though they had been placed on the wall by an artist; but when the light is put behind them it is seen that they are independent, slightly corrugated, semi-transparent slabs of equal thickness and graduated widths. Of this kind of formation, however, more magnificent specimens are to be found in the Imperial Cave. In another part of this cavern are large detached blocks of formation, which sparkle like diamonds all over the lines of fracture. They are in wild disorder, as though they had been hurled about in some Titanic conflict. The stalactites here are of different character from those found in the other caves, being composite and covered with ornamentation of various kinds. The lower rocks, too, are rippled and chequered like wicker-work, and resemble the formation of the Pink Terraces of Rotomahana, which were destroyed by lava from a volcano in 1886. The roof is about 100 feet high, and the sides of the cave are formed of massive ledges, over which a limey substance has flowed in large masses and assumed elegant shapes fringed with stalactites. Near this place is a hole which goes down to the bottom of another cave. It has not yet been fully explored, but it has been ascertained that its depth is about 120 feet, with a clear pool at the bottom. A stone thrown down it is heard to strike two or three times, and finally splash in the liquid crystal.

[CHAPTER XI.]

THE EXHIBITION.

At the western end of the Shawl Cave, and on its southern wall, is a remarkable formation denominated "The Butcher's Shop." Experts in the preparation of animal food have discovered in this strong resemblances to sides of beef, joints, and "small goods" covered with a reticulum like the netted membrane sometimes thrown over meat exposed for sale. One would hardly expect to find anything æsthetic about such a display. As a realistic production, however, it will bear favourable comparison with some so-called works of art which show how much humour a jocular sculptor can cut into a piece of cold stone. In its bearing upon gastronomy, exception might be taken to one or two of the joints, which suggest veal that has been "spouted," and an excess of adipose matter; but upon the whole the "shop" may be regarded as a not unpleasing representation of a chamber filled with chilled meat.

Leaving the unromantic stall and ascending seven steps under a roof about 90 feet high, the cave-walker ambulates towards the Exhibition, which is approached by 12 wooden steps, leaving to the right a beautiful formation like a frozen waterfall of from 20 to 25 feet. These steps have pendant from them fungi of the most delicate kind, some resembling eider-down, hanging in flossy masses from underneath the cross pieces. This fungoid growth affords evidence of dampness destructive to the timber, which ought to be replaced by more durable material. It is satisfactory to know that specifications have been prepared and tenders forwarded to the Department for this work. It will be more satisfactory to learn that prompt action has been taken in regard to them, and that they have not been simply docketed and smothered in some obscure pigeon-hole.

The road to The Exhibition is rather rough, there being large masses of angular rocks on either side, and the pathway itself is somewhat rugged. The entrance to the Bride's Cave is to be seen down a rocky declivity of about 30 feet. The gallery leading to this chamber is only about 12 inches by 18 inches. The cave itself is about six feet high, and hung around with drapery of alabaster. The ceiling is of coral formation, and the floor pure white. Farther on to the left is another chamber, the entrance to which is pretty, but difficult of access. It is from 6 inches to 10 feet high. There is beautiful formation in one part from the ceiling to the floor. Some of it is like straws, as clear as glass, and a portion of the floor sparkles as though it were set with diamonds.

The Exhibition is of large proportions, being about 250 feet each way, but its height ranges only from 5 to 20 feet. Its floor is reached by nine steps. From the centre of the Exhibition the entrance to the Bride's Chamber is on the right. To the left is a broken column, which at one time was sound from the floor to the roof, but which has been fractured apparently by the sinking of the rock on which the stalagmitic portion rests. The separation is slight, and there is a slight departure from the right line.

THE BROKEN COLUMN.

To the eastward are several interesting stalactites. One represents a black fellow's "nulla-nulla," another a lady and child, another the palm of a hand blackened by candle smoke. On the south side is a spacious platform like the stage of a theatre—the front, about 40 feet wide, is supported by two columns. The height is about 18 feet, and across the top is a curtain of formation representing drapery gracefully arranged, with a fringe of little sparkling stalactites. On each side of this is a smaller entrance similarly adorned and as exquisitely beautiful. The floor of the stage is about 15 feet deep, and the curved ceiling about 40 feet from the drop curtain to the floor. This is as it appears at a distance. On nearer approach it is perceived that the pillars are uneven, and marked with formations of various kinds. That which seemed like a stage becomes an irregular cavern, with immense rocks lying about in great disorder. When the Exhibition is illuminated by the magnesium light, some beautiful red and white stalactites are disclosed, glittering like dewdrops in the sunlight, and also some exceedingly pretty stalagmites. This chamber was called "The Exhibition" on account of the variety of its specimens. It contains stalactites and stalagmites, white and coloured—variegated shawls—sombre marble and sparkling rocks, clusters of formation, and elephantine masses of carbonate of lime in shapes which prove how much more subtle than professors of art is Nature herself. At the south end a cave slopes down, and there are boulders and débris stained with iron, as well as other indications of great soakage and percolation.

THE JEWEL CASKET.

Eastward, about 40 feet, is the "Jewel Casket." On the way to it are openings to numerous unexplored caves. Affixed to an immense block of limestone are some 30 or 40 shawl-pattern formations of various sizes, which give forth musical sounds when struck with a hard substance, and which, with a little practice, could be played upon like a mammoth harmonicon. En route from the Exhibition to the Jewel Casket, although the passage has not been so dry for twenty years, the rocks are covered with moisture, and the lime can be scraped off like soft soap. From the Exhibition there is a descent eastward of about 100 feet along the gallery, which is somewhat narrow, but the roof of which is covered with pretty stalactites. Near the entrance to the Casket is a remarkable reticulated rock. The descent is by 23 steps east, and then proceeding north about five yards the Jewel Casket is reached.

THE BROKEN COLUMN.

The Jewel Casket is at the end of a very remarkable cave. Its ceiling is marvellously beautiful. The walls and ridges on each side sparkle like gems of the first water. Some of the rocks are covered with virgin white, and some are delicately coloured. The entrance to the Casket itself is very small, being only about 15 inches by 8. Its upper portion is of glistening rich brown, and slopes in varied graceful folds down to the bed rock. When the magnesium light reveals the splendour of the interior it is seen that the Casket stretches away to a considerable distance; the floor is covered with white and amber brilliants and snowy coruscating flakes of dazzling purity. Here are clusters of cave diamonds, opals, and pearls, with delicate fawn-coloured jewels scattered about promiscuously. Rich and rare are the gems this Casket contains, and exclamations of delight are evoked when their charms burst upon the view like a vision of fairyland. Neither tongue nor pen, nor photographic art nor pencil-sketch, can ever do full justice to this natural treasury of beautiful things.

JUDGE WINDEYER'S COUCH.

Leaving the Jewel Casket, the visitor proceeds in a northward direction along a passage, from the Exhibition to "The Hall to the Bridge." There is an ascent of 13 steps west, and then the way to the Hall is under a low archway, through which it is necessary to proceed on hands and knees. Through this archway is a little cavern, something like the Jewel Casket, with a floor of diamond drift and delicate coral. At the top of the steps the Hall runs north-west. Then the way lies down a gradual slope of rough rocks to the head of 18 steps, with a wire rope on the right hand side. At the top of the steps near to the Jewel Casket and in the Hall to the Bridge is a piece of formation like an upholstered sofa, which has been named "Judge Windeyer's Couch," because it is said that the learned Judge sat on it when he visited the caves. Its surface is of a rich reddish brown, and may have suggested the celebrated woolsack which, in the days of "good Queen Bess," was introduced as the Lord Chancellor's seat in commemoration of the Act to prevent the exportation of wool which was at that time as important an element in England's prosperity as it is at present to the well-being of Australia. In the Hall beautiful formation is seen. A large rock, with shawl-pattern appendages and other ornamentation, is specially attractive. Another represents a miniature Niagara, done in stone. The features are varied by splendid stalactites, from pure white to rich brown. The formation on the wall is like frozen fountains. The bottom consists of huge rocks, angular and rugged, with immense flags of limestone. About 10 yards from the Bridge is "Touch-me-not" corner, with a grotto quite out of reach, but of the interior of which, when the light is flashed into it, a splendid view can be obtained. The stalactites are perfectly shaped and beautifully pure. Some of them are as white as snow, some are opaline, and others are tinged with mineral colours. The floor has many stalagmites and sparkling formations like a jewelled carpet, which falls from the entrance a little distance down the wall in graceful brown folds fringed with russet stalactites. Here the Hall is very spacious, being about 120 feet across, and the roof rises from 10 to 50 feet. It has on it some of the most beautiful stalactites in the caves, many of them being of unsullied white. To the left, high up on the side of the Hall, is a piece of pure lime formation like a lace shawl, the apparent delicate network of which is an object of special interest, if not of envy, to the fair sex.

THE UNDERGROUND BRIDGE.

THE UNDERGROUND BRIDGE.

The Underground Bridge is not a brilliant achievement in engineering, but seems to be well constructed and safe, which is an important consideration; for, although it is so many hundred feet below the summit of the mountain, and yet down so low as to be on the same level as the foundations of the Cave House in the adjacent valley, it spans a black yawning gulf, at the extremity of which, 50 feet still farther down, is a clear pool of water 20 feet deep! The Bridge is about 42 feet long. It has wire girders and uprights, with stanchions and handrails, and a wooden deck, which, by-the-bye, needs some repair, for several of the planks are broken. The passage is made increasingly secure by galvanised wire netting stretched along the lower part of the Bridge on both sides. The rocks which form the boundary of the immense chasm spanned by the Bridge are of enormous size, and the scene from this point is remarkable for sublimity rather than for what is commonly called beauty. Near the roof is an immense recess, filled with huge stalactites and mammoth pieces of formation, which have floated over the bottom and formed graceful ornamentation for the cavern below. And so the process is repeated from the top of the immense chamber, near the roof, down to the rugged walls immediately round the Bridge. Even on the rocks which surround the abyss similar wondrous decorations are lavishly bestowed. The clear-headed and sure-footed guide descends from one jutting rock to another and yet another, until he approaches a row of remarkable stalactites which can be just discerned through the gloom. This group is called "The Piano," because of the resonant qualities of its separate parts. Each stalactite gives out a note. The notes vary in quality and pitch, but most of them are imperfect. As stalactites they are very fine, but as melodious instruments they are frauds. They refuse to harmonise, and their music is about as entrancing as that of a discordant "upright grand," mounted on one leg and played with a handle.

[CHAPTER XII.]

THE LURLINE CAVE.

Seventy or eighty yards from the Underground Bridge is the Lurline Cave. The course is south-west, through a curved gallery with 53 steps in different flights, and two archways—one like loveliness when "adorned the most," and the other formed by an ornate mass of stalactites.

The Lurline Cave is justly regarded as one of the most charming chambers in the group. The coup d'œil is magnificent. It does not need any close examination to find that it has some distinctive features which show that, although there is no aqueous accommodation for the queen of the water nymphs, whose name it bears, the appellation of this portion of the Lucas Cave cannot, etymologically at least, be considered as a lucus a non lucendo. There are the "coral bowers" and cells to which Rudolph was transported; the "halls of liquid crystal, where the water lilies bloom;" there is the cool grot in which the Water Queen dwelt; there is the rock on which she sat "when all was silent save the murmur of the lone wave, and the nightingale that in sadness to the moon telleth her lovelorn tale;" there is Rhineberg's magic cave, with its "wedges of gold from the upper air;" there are the distant recesses to which Lurline sent the gnome while she restored to life her mortal affinity. With such surroundings it is easy to reproduce, link by link, the rosy chain which enthralled the German Count and "The Daughter of the Wave and Air."

Or, to take the more rollicking version by "Thomas Ingoldsby, Esq." Here is "a grand stalactite hall," like that which rose above and about the impecunious "Sir Rupert the Fearless," when he followed to the bottom of the Rhine the dame whose—

"Pretty pink silken hose cover'd ankles and toes;
In other respects she was scanty of clothes;
For so says tradition, both written and oral,
Her one garment was loop'd up with bunches of coral."

Where—-

"Scores of young women diving and swimming,
* * * *
All slightly accoutred in gauzes and lawns,
Came floating about him like so many prawns,"

and where their queen, Lurline, lost her heart and her plate, and, according to the same reverend author, her cajoler, whose disastrous fate inspired the moral—

"Don't fancy odd fishes! Don't prig silver dishes!
And to sum up the whole in the shortest phrase I know,
Beware of the Rhine, and take care of the Rhino!"

The floor is covered with hemispherical mounds or domes for the naiads to recline on. The outer wall is composed of formations ranged in festoons of stalactites—not smooth and transparent, but opaque white, and marked with all the wonderful elaboration which characterises zoophytic work in the coral reefs of the Southern seas. This cave contains several sub-caves, each of which has special charms, and the turning of some of the arches is marvellously graceful. One of the recesses is filled with stalactites which look like groups of seaweed. The coral is russet and cream colour and saffron, and there are honeycombed rocks varying in shade from vandyck brown to chrome yellow. Some of the stalactites in the interior sub-caves are transparent. Whichever way the eye is turned it encounters submarine grottoes of fantastic shape, decorated with imitations of algæ. If it were only at the bottom of the Rhine instead of thousands of feet above sea-level, it would seem natural as well as beautiful, but here its existence is simply a wonder, and the sensation produced is fairly described by the last word in the marriage service of the Church of England. Still, "when Mother Fancy rocks the wayward brain," it is easy to associate with it denizens of the deep, and people it with naiads, or with Undines, who were supposed to marry human beings, and, in certain conditions, become endowed with human souls. The cave is about 15 feet high, and from 15 to 20 feet broad. Some of the coralline ledges at the sides are remarkably handsome, and many of the stalactites are from six to eight inches in diameter. The cavern is elegant in its proportions, highly favoured in regard to stalactite growth, graceful in contour, and rich in colouring.

THE FOSSIL BONE CAVE.

About 15 yards north-west from the Lurline Cave is the Fossil Bone Cave. To reach this cavern it is necessary to ascend 12 steps. It is scarcely less beautiful than the Lurline Cave. The lime formation represents pensile boughs of weeping-willow, garlands of flowers, and stalactites covered with all kinds of floral decorations. Here also are some fine "shawl" formations hanging from the rocks. One of them is called "The Gong," because it produces a sonorous note similar to that of the Chinese instrument which is superseding the dinner-bell, and challenging its title to be regarded as "the tocsin of the soul." On a sloping side of the floor are some forms distinctive in shape and colour, and resembling a lot of small potatoes shot down indiscriminately. The wonder is how in such a place they could have been so formed and isolated. Here is an oblique cavern, at the bottom of which a bone of some large animal lies embedded in the limestone formation like a type in a matrix. At one time it was doubted whether this, which appeared to be bone, was really an osseous substance, but subsequent examinations have proved that it is bone. A fracture of the rock has shown that the outer part of the bone is compact, and the inner part cellular. It is beautifully white, and, as the formation about is brownish, the phosphate can be readily distinguished from the carbonate of lime. On the roof above the Fossil Bone Cave is a rare stalactite about 20 feet in length, and by the side of the tomb of the unknown animal—which may have been anything from a diprotodon to a dingo—is a splendid monumental stalagmite. The cave is about 50 feet high, and 50 feet in length and breadth. The roof is of a light cream colour, and has brown stalactites of perfect shape. The side rocks are magnificently draped. Numerous splendid columns like white marble, and sheets of stalactitic growth, excite wonder and admiration.

THE SNOWBALL CAVE.

About 40 yards through a hall, running north-east of the Fossil Bone Cave, is the Snowball Cave, which is about 9 feet high, 25 or 30 feet long, and from 6 to 10 or 12 feet wide. It runs north-north-east. Its distinctive feature is that its roof and a portion of its walls are covered with little white masses like snowballs. Some of the patches of carbonate of lime stick to the walls in isolated discs, and others are massed as though snowballs had been thrown at a mark, and a number of them had stuck close together. Some of the stalactites in this chamber have been formed by the upward pressure of water, and assume many tortuous shapes. An interesting feature of this portion of the caves is the existence of a number of stalactites which show how readily vibration is communicated from one to another. The visitor puts his finger to the end of a stalactite, and when an adjacent one is struck so as to make it sound, it is perceptible that the vibration of the sounding stalactite is communicated to its silent neighbour.

There is one more chamber to visit in the Lucas Cave. To reach it the visitor ascends four steps, and travels north-west about 14 yards to the head of a wire ladder, which he descends to a place directly underneath the Snowball Cave, and then he goes down the steps into the Wallaby Bone Cave, over the entrance to which is a very pretty cluster of stalagmites, from 6 inches to 18 inches long, and varying from the thickness of a straw to three-quarters of an inch in diameter. The floor is covered with wallaby bones, and in the immediate vicinity are quantities of osseous breccia.

[CHAPTER XIII.]

THE BONE CAVES.

The Bone Caves are intensely interesting, and a considerable amount of attention has been paid to them by scientists. In 1867, Professor Owen, when writing to the Colonial Secretary, said that the natural remains obtained from the limestone caves of Wellington Valley in 1832, "revealed the important and suggestive fact that the marsupial type of structure prevailed in the ancient and extinct as well as in the existing quadrupeds of Australia." Seventeen years ago there was an expedition to the Wellington Valley Bone Caves. Parliament voted £200 for the purpose, and an investigation was made by Mr. Gerard Krefft, who at that time was curator of the Australian Museum, and Dr. Thompson. They obtained many valuable and rare specimens, some of which were said to be quite new to science, consisting of the remains of mammals, birds, and reptiles. The largest bones and teeth discovered were of a size equal to those of a full-grown elephant. They were remains of diprotodons and nototheriums, gigantic marsupials now extinct.

The Wellington Valley Caves were discovered by Sir Thomas Mitchell more than 50 years ago. From them no fewer than 2,100 specimens of fossil remains were presented to the British Museum. When the result of the exploration was forwarded to Professor Owen, he said that the conclusion was very much what might have been naturally looked for, and that the only disappointment he felt was the absence of human remains and works. Ten years ago an attempt was made to obtain the co-operation of the neighbouring colonies in the work of thoroughly exploring the caves of the western and southern districts and Australian rivers. The proposition originated with the Agent-General for New South Wales, Professor Owen, and Sir George Macleay, but the adjacent colonies did not see their way to participate, whereupon our Cabinet decided to do the work without extraneous aid, and £600 was voted by Parliament for the service of 1882. At an earlier stage Professor Liversidge had written to the Colonial Secretary, transmitting the following extract from a letter he had received from Professor Boyd Dawkins, M.A., F.R.S., of Owens College, Manchester:—"Would the Government of New South Wales undertake the systematic exploration of the wonderful caves which are in the colony, and which certainly ought to be explored? Not only is there a certainty of adding to the great marsupials which have been obtained, but there is a great chance of finding proof that man was living at the same time as the extinct animals, as he has already been found in Europe and Asia. I should expect to find a very low form of the aborigine. Such an inquiry would be of a very great interest to us here in England, who are digging at the caves all over Europe, and the duplication which would be obtained would enable the trustees of the Australian Museum to increase their collections largely by exchanges."

The minutes of the meetings of the trustees of the Australian Museum show that in 1881 a committee, consisting of Dr. Cox, Mr. Wilkinson, and Professor Liversidge, was appointed for the management of the exploration of caves and rivers, and it was decided that the following caves should, if possible, be examined in the order as written:—Wellington Caves, Cowra, or Belubula Caves, Abercrombie, Wollombi, Fish River (now Jenolan), Wombeyan, Wallerawang, Cargo, Yarrangobilly, Murrumbidgee, Kempsey. The Goodradigbee caves were also included, and from them was taken a great quantity of bones of small animals, with a number of jaw, thigh, hip, and shin bones of some animals of the kangaroo family. The smaller bones were those of mice, bats, birds, and marsupials. In the Wellington breccia cave a shaft was sunk, and on the 20th September, 1881, Mr. E. P. Ramsay, curator of the Museum, reported, among other things, the following:—"A great number of interesting bones have already been obtained from this shaft, but the mass of 35 feet of bone breccia which we passed through shows that we have here a large field for exploration. From this shaft we have obtained bones of the following animals, besides a great number of small bones yet undetermined—Diprotodon, macropus, palorchestes, sthenurus, procoptodon, protemnodon, halmaturus, thylacinus, bettongia, sarcophilus, phascolomys, dasyurus, phalangista, pteropus (?), bats, rodents (mus), a few lizards' bones, and a few vertebræ of lizards and snakes."

Other caves also were explored, but it was found that the bones obtained from them were of recent origin. It is a question whether it would not be desirable to make still further investigations. The osseous breccia—where it exists—appears to be similar in all the caves. There are rifts and pits and chambers where animals have retired to die, and where from time to time their bones have been formed into cement with the liquefied rock, which in process of time has again hardened and become a solid compound of bone and stone.

In the southern room on the first floor of the Sydney Museum is a large collection of bones from the Wellington and other caves. These remains have been collected during the last four or five years under the direction of Mr. Ramsay, the curator. They are chiefly the bones of marsupials. There are not among them any fossil remains which indicate the presence of man in Australia at any very remote period. Some of the principal bones are those of extinct marsupials, and are important from a scientific point of view. They include bones of the following animals (species extant) found in the Wellington caves:—The thylacinus (Tasmanian tiger), sarcophilus (Tasmanian devil), mastacomys (a rodent), hapalotis albipes, and mus lineatus (New South Wales). Other important fossil remains in the Museum are those of the thylacoleo (two species), diprotodon, procoptodon, protemnodon, palorchestes, macropus titan, nototherium, phascolomys. There are not in the Sydney Museum any bones from the Jenolan Caves—which, however, contain many interesting remains of the animal world,—because the search for them would involve the destruction of attractive features. For these reasons attention was given to the Wellington Caves, whose beauties were not likely to receive further disfiguration than they have already suffered.

From the Wallaby Bone Cave the visitor returns to the Fossil Bone Cave, and ascends a wire ladder which is about to be replaced by an iron staircase. As he mounts this wire-rope ladder, which is 76 feet long and not "stayed," he feels the necessity for some better means of communication. From the top to the Cathedral is about 25 yards south-east. A large portion of the cave north-west from this point has not been explored. There are five or six different branches, one of which runs out to daylight at a small aperture (14 inches by 18 inches) over the rise of the water below the Grand Archway and the Devil's Coach House. The distance from here through the Cathedral to the entrance gate is about 70 yards, up two flights of steps. There is a gradual ascent to the steps, and the final flight of 41 brings the excursionist to the gate and to the sunshine. He will be glad to rest awhile before entering the Imperial Cave, which is the grandest of them all.

[CHAPTER XIV.]

THE IMPERIAL CAVE.

The Imperial Cave is graced with myriads of lovely objects. Darkness brooded over them for ages, as drip by drip and atom by atom they were formed into things that charm and shine in chambers whose walls are "clad in the beauty of a thousand stars." There are underground gullies terrible enough to be the home of Apollyon, with legions of goblins; and strangely radiant elfin palaces where Titania might be supposed to reign, and Robin Goodfellow carry on his frolicsome pranks. In the year 1879, when the cave-keeper (Mr. Wilson) discovered this magnificent series of caverns, he was lowered down a distance of 90 feet through Egyptian darkness. As this mode of access was neither cheerful nor easy, nor free from danger, he determined, if possible, to find a less inconvenient and perilous approach to the cave. After two years of patient investigation he accomplished his heart's desire. The orifice which has been converted into the present entrance was at first, for a distance of 19 feet, only 14 inches by 15 inches, but the curator worked his way through it, caterpillar fashion, with a light in one hand and a hammer in the other, knocking off the rough formation, and widening the aperture from time to time until he made communication free from difficulty. Throughout this splendid cave there are many places where similar efforts, accomplished with equal success, have added largely to the safety and convenience of visitors, who reap the fruits of the heroic work performed by the brave explorer, whose best years have been spent in rendering accessible to the public the marvellous beauties of the Jenolan Caves.

From the accommodation house the way to the Imperial Cave is through the Grand Arch, on the northern side of which, at the eastern end, are two wooden staircases. The first springs from the floor of the arch amidst immense blocks of stone irregularly disposed. It has 21 steps, and a handrail on each side. This terminates at the summit of a pile of limestone rocks, the uppermost of which forms a platform guarded by iron stanchions and a galvanised wire rope. From this platform there is another flight of 21 steps to the portico of the cave—a plain archway, the floor of which is 50 feet higher than the floor of the cave-house. The entrance is guarded by a light iron gate.

THE WOOL SHED AND THE GRAVEL PITS.

About 35 yards from the entrance to the Imperial Cave, northward, and thence about 30 yards east, is "The Wool Shed." The approach to it is narrow and low. In some places it has been formed by blasting, and in others by excavation through a red, sandy substance underneath the limestone. It widens as the Wool Shed is approached. In the floor is a hole going down to the former entrance to the cave, now closed by a stone wall. The Wool Shed is about 20 feet wide, 15 feet high, and 70 feet long. The formation over a large part of the walls and roof resembles the fleeces of sheep, hanging about and spreading over the shelving rocks in all directions. There is one pelt which suggests the "Golden Fleece" torn by Jason from the tree trunk in the poison wood guarded by the huge serpent spangled with bronze and gold, and which was soothed to slumber by the magic song of Orpheus. The surroundings are as strange as those of the lonely cave where dwelt Cheiron the Centaur, who taught the leader of the Argonauts "to wrestle and to box, and to hunt, and to play upon the harp." But perhaps, after all, it may be only an indifferent limestone representation of a fellmongering establishment. The woolly skins and scraps are mirrored on the retina. The impressions produced by the sense of vision depend not upon the optic nerve, but upon the imagination. Simply as a spectacle, however, the Wool Shed is curious and entertaining. The blocks of stone near to the base are for the most part plain, and the floor is broken and rugged.

Descending 12 steps, and passing through a tunnel five feet six inches by two feet, the visitor stands at the junction of the right and the left hand branches of the cave. Here formerly the passage was only 14 inches by 15 inches. The larger opening was made by blasting, and the material blown from the solid rock has been packed away in recesses at the side of the hall, which, at the junction of the two branches, widens out considerably, but does not present any specially interesting features. The right hand branch runs north-west, and the left hand branch runs south-west. Taking the south-west branch first, after travelling about 10 yards the visitor comes to "The Gravel Pits," which he reaches by ascending a mound with 13 steps. There are two pits of gravel. One of them is about 12 feet deep and the other about 15 feet. In the rocks overhead are bones distinctly visible, owing to the earthy matter having fallen away from them. Some of these bones are large. There are shelving rocks about six feet from the floor. The sides of one of the Gravel Pits are oblique, but the other pit, which is railed off, is round and perpendicular. It could hardly have been more symmetrical had it been made by a professional well-sinker. This spot, although perhaps uninteresting to a mere sight-seer, cannot fail to attract the attention of geologists. Ascending two flights of stairs with 14 steps each, the excursionist attains a height of about 40 feet above the Gravel Pits in a north-westerly direction. Between the two flights of steps the ground is sloping, and the walls hold a considerable portion of drift, the pebbles of which are large and tinged with oxide of iron. This passage leads to the Margherita Cave, and from it a tunnel branches off towards the "Architect's Studio." This is a very pretty vestibule, about 30 yards in length, and bearing south-east. At first it rises several feet by steps, and later on there is a descent of five steps through masses of stalactites, and past a beautiful pillar.

THE ARCHITECT'S STUDIO.

THE ARCHITECT'S STUDIO.

The height of the "Studio" is about 18 feet. This atelier is a marvel of beauty. There are in it two temples of the most lovely kind. Large masses of splendid stalactites hang from the roof. On the walls are columns profusely decorated with coral and tracery and bosses, and carvings which could be imitated only by the most cunning workmanship. Near the centre is a large stalactitic mass, most graceful in shape, with numerous appendages; and underneath appear several stalagmites. Some of them have been partially destroyed, but one, which touches the enormous mass of stalactites above, remains intact. Near to this is a splendid column, richly embellished. The walls are profusely adorned with elaborate configurations, which are supposed to represent architectural "studies," from which the cave derives its name. Most of the formation is white or light grey; but in some of the recesses there is rich colouring. Each chamber has its own distinctive attractions, and contains many objects which challenge special admiration. Massive grandeur is set off with the most delicate and fragile beauty. Stalagmites are not numerous here, but one about eight feet in height, and two inches in diameter at the base, tapers off gradually towards the roof until it becomes as attenuated as the thin end of a fishing-rod. The stalactitic formation hangs in ponderous grotesquely-shaped concretions, some of which extend from the roof nearly to the floor, and many of the stalactites which decorate the stalactitic formation are perfect in shape and purity. The choicest portions of the Architect's Studio are fenced off with galvanised wire rope on iron standards.

THE BONE CAVE.

Ascending a flight of 10 steps out of the Architect's Studio the course is south-west about 30 yards to the Bone Cave. The way is difficult, a portion of the journey having to be performed on hands and knees. The cave, which runs north and south, is about 10 feet high, 150 feet long, and from 5 to 30 feet wide. In the middle of it is a passage only partially explored. The Bone Cave is guarded by iron rods and wire netting. Bunches of stalactites hang from the roof, and the floor is strewn with bones, covered with a thick coating of lime formation. There are also bones embedded in the floor. Some of the formations on the floor are very peculiar, consisting of small curiously-shaped pieces fitted together at remarkable angles, and yet capable of being taken to pieces like triplicate kernels pressed together in one nutshell. A large proportion of the stalactites are quite transparent and decorated with small sharp points, and some formations among the coral are as lovely as fine marine mosses, which they resemble. In the midst are numerous unexplored recesses, which, when the light penetrates, are seen to hold hundreds of fine stalactites, crystal and opaque. The objects of beauty in the Bone Cave retain their colour, because they cannot be handled by that class of visitors who fancy that they can see only with their fingers. On the walls are specimens of delicate fretwork, and on the floor as well as on the top of rocky ledges, stalagmites lavishly ornamented. Although not as grand as the Architect's Studio, this is a very fine cave, and additional interest attaches to it in consequence of the fossil bones it contains. The adjacent chambers cannot be explored without destroying some of the well-known beauties of the cavern.

[CHAPTER XV.]

THE MARGHERITA CAVE.

From the Bone Cave to the Margherita Cave is about 130 yards, travelling north-east to the top of the first 10 steps, then east into the Architect's Studio, and then north about 30 yards. The Margherita Cave varies from 10 to 20 feet in height, and is from 10 to 15 feet wide. It is remarkable chiefly for the magnitude and beauty of its stalactitic formation, the best portions of which are fenced off with iron rods and wire netting. The formations are nearly all of the same general character. Although there are many changes in detail, the typical pattern is observed everywhere in the midst of infinite variety, just as in a fugue choice snatches of melody sound forth in the clear treble, skip away in the mellow tenor, roll forth in the deep bass, and then dart about Will-o'-the-wisp-like all through the composition, without ever getting out of harmony. It is a grand chamber full of stately concords and charming effects of light and shade.

Hard by is another chamber with masses of beautiful stalactites, and, on a pinnacle, a figure appears about the height of the Venus de Medici, robed in drapery of white, slightly suggestive of the binary theory of feminine attire, and with a peculiar curvature denominated the "Grecian bend." The bend is unmistakable. There is just a suspicion of the "divided skirt," and the attitude is easy and graceful, the Grecian bend notwithstanding. The upper part of the body from the waist has no "boddice aptly laced," but becomes gradually mixed indiscriminately with other kinds of beauty, which, although they may "harmony of shape express," do not in the sense indicated by Prior become "fine by degrees and beautifully less." Admirers of classic beauty may be inclined to regard the incompleteness of the figure as "fine by defect and delicately weak." There are some stalagmites on the sloping bank of formation, which runs down to the wire netting and is finished off at each extremity by two massive stalactitic pillars.

The Margherita Cave received its name in honour of the wife of Lieut.-Colonel Cracknell, Superintendent of Telegraphs. Col. Cracknell visited the caves in 1880, and on the 22nd July illuminated this and some other portions with the electric light. The Margherita was the first of the underground chambers in which flashed its brilliant rays.

In the absence of facilities for generating electricity by means of the now well-known dynamo machine, Colonel Cracknell had recourse to primary batteries, and adopted the form known as the Maynooth or Callan cell, the elements of which were cast iron and zinc in solutions of nitric and sulphuric acid.

It was not an easy task to unload and carry up the iron cell battery and the apparatus into the cave, as each set of six cells weighed 96 lbs. The whole, together with the acids and the electric light apparatus, exceeded 15 cwts. The battery, however, was soon made ready, and to the admiration of all present Cave Margherita was illuminated by the electric light. A photographic apparatus was then placed in position, the plates were exposed, and in 15 minutes the first negatives were produced, and said to be all that could be desired.

It is satisfactory to learn that arrangements are almost complete for the permanent lighting of the caves by electricity. Lieutenant-Colonel Cracknell proposes to illuminate them in sections, containing each, say, 25 incandescent lamps, and when one section has been thoroughly explored the lamps therein will be cut off and those in the next section brought into operation, and so on until the whole of the interior has been examined. It is intended that Swan's incandescent lamp of 20-candle power shall be used.

The electricity is to be generated by a small Edison dynamo, with which accumulators of the Elwell-Parker type will be kept charged, so that at all times there will be a supply available for lighting the lamps. It has not yet been determined whether to use steam or water power, but it is thought likely that sufficient of the latter may be secured in the vicinity of the caves to work a turbine, and thus produce the necessary energy.

[CHAPTER XVI.]

THE HELENA CAVE.

Leaving the Margherita Cave by a descent of five steps, and travelling north-west about ten yards through a festooned hall, the Helena Cave opens to view. It was named in 1880. Helena is the prenomen of Mrs. Hart, whose husband accompanied Lieutenant-Colonel Cracknell on his visit to the caves, and took photographs of some of the chambers, when for the first time they were illuminated by electricity. Mr. Hart was connected with the photographic branch of the Government Printing Office. The pictures then produced, although large and fairly good, are not equal to some more recent photographs taken when the chambers were illuminated by the magnesium light.

The Helena Cave is about 60 yards long, 15 to 20 feet high, and varies in width from 20 to 50 feet. For stalactitic splendour it will bear comparison with the most magnificent of the caves. There are columns like the trunks of stately trees, covered with rough formation resembling coarse bark. Coralline masses droop laden with myriads of cells. In the recesses are stalactites perfect in shape—crystal, and alabaster set off by others coloured like ferruginous sandstone. Lovely grottoes and decorated rock ledges abound. In one or two instances joined stalactites and stalagmites form pillars with bunches of formation all about them like stony efflorescence. Several steps lead into a recess, the floor of which contains basins made by the action of water.

The formation throughout is remarkable for its lavish ornamentation and purity. Among the grand cornices is one weighing about half a ton, formed in such a manner as to resemble great bunches of grapes, like those brought from Eschol by the Hebrew spies to illustrate their report on "the promised land." In other parts are small clusters like vine produce growing en espalier. It seems as though in these subterranean sunless bowers nature had by some subtle process striven to reproduce in stone the fruits and flowers of the sunned surface, clothing them in pure white and sombre grey, and endowing them with charms as sweet and mutely eloquent as the fragrance of the Cestrum nocturnum, or the cold beauty of a night cactus bloom which caresses the moonbeams or wantons in the stellar light.

This place, full of enchanted grottoes and elfin palaces, gives, perhaps, the best illustration of the plan, so uniform and yet so diverse, on which these limestone mountains have been honeycombed into galleries, "high overarch'd with echoing walks between," and caverns large and small, from cathedral spaciousness to the minimised dimensions of the tiniest chamber in the finest coralline structure. Their infinite gradation may be fairly described by certain well-known lines, and substituting the word "caves" for the name of the most lively insects of the genus pulex—

Big caves have little caves
And lesser caves about 'em;
These caves have other caves,
And so ad infinitum.

The most remarkable feature hereabouts is a piece of formation called "The Madonna." It is supposed to represent a woman carrying an infant, which rests on her right arm. The left arm hangs loosely by her side, and the right knee is bent as in the act of walking. The head bears less resemblance to that of one of the favourite creations of the Old Masters than it does to the anterior part of a Russian bear. A pyramidal mound about four feet high forms a pedestal for the figure, which is about two feet six inches from crown to sole. A sculptor with mallet and chisel might in an hour or two convert it into a representation of loveliness, but at present it is only a veiled beauty. Visitors have to imagine all those witcheries and feminine perfections portrayed by great artists who have made "The Madonna and Child" a life study.

THE HELENA CAVE.

The best view of this cave is that looking south-east with "My Lady" in the centre. The stalactites show to great advantage, and as the manifold charms brought into bold relief by the magnesium light disappear, and the sable goddess "from her ebon throne, stretches forth her leaden sceptre," the sensation produced is one of pleasant bewilderment. The deep gloom which follows celestial brightness enshrouds the glorious scene. The pageant fades away as did the celebrated palace which Potemkin reared for his Imperial Mistress. It was made of blocks of ice. The portico was supported by Ionic pillars, and the dome sparkled in the sun, which had just strength enough to gild, but not to melt it. "It glittered afar like a palace of crystal and diamonds, but there came one warm breeze from the south, and the stately building dissolved away until none were able to gather up the fragments." So it is with these underground wonders. They are brought into bold relief, and gilded by the brilliant light of the magnesium lamp. It is extinguished, and the gorgeous palaces and solemn temples suddenly become like "stuff which dreams are made of."

Another beautiful feature in the Helena Cave is a formation under a mass of stalactites which hang from the roof and drop water on to a jutting rock below. On a corner of this shoulder is a huge epaulette, and underneath are some elegantly-shaped brackets. Still farther down is an enormous richly decorated mass, flanked by shell pattern formation. The base rock rests on a mound of limestone gracefully curved, and the intervening spaces are filled with myriads of ornate specimens. Some distance above the floor is a bold rock with a sharply cut under-surface like the sounding-board of a pulpit hung with stalactites. Here are also terraces like miniatures of the celebrated White Terraces of New Zealand, with basins, the sides of which are graced with a formation which at one time was pure white, but the lower portions of which are now discoloured. The upper part, however, still retains its pristine purity and loveliness. The terraces approaching The Grotto are stained by the tramping of feet. About halfway up is a handsome stalagmite of fine proportions. This chamber is grandly impressive, and remarkable for its charming variety of formation, as well as for its graceful contours.

[CHAPTER XVII.]

THE GROTTO CAVE.

At the point of exit from the Helena Cave there is a descent of four steps. Then it is necessary to ascend 14 steps north-north-east on the way to the right-hand branch of the Imperial Cave. From the top of the steps the distance to the junction is about 80 yards. On the left side of the passage, at the foot of the lower steps in the left-hand branch, is a drive down into the gallery of the right-hand branch, the fall being about 70 feet. It was by being lowered down this hole that the cave-keeper found that portion of the right-hand branch which extends from the shaft to the junction of the two branches. This perilous part is railed off with two wires supported on iron standards let into the rock. At a point 22 yards north, on the passage to the Grotto Cave, at an angle, is a drop of 100 feet into the right-hand branch of the Imperial Cave.

Sitting on a thin shell of limestone, on the right-hand side, the visitor may pitch a stone into a hole 10 inches by 14 inches, and hear it strike the bottom of the black depth. He may thrust his candle down to arm's length underneath the mineral crust, and (if he be in a very cheerful vein) fancy he is peering into the Infernal Regions, over which he rests on a thin and fragile screen. From this point the Grotto Cave is south-south-west about 50 yards. Precautions have been taken against accident at this spot. Iron standards are let into the rock, and there are double wires stayed back to the walls of the cave. It is intended to make it still more secure on the lower side by a netting of three inch wire, on one and a quarter inch iron standards, from four to six feet high.

Where the rock has been cut to make the passage wide enough, the steps are wet, and there is a little basin always full of bright water of a bluish tint. A false step here might precipitate a sight-seer into an almost perpendicular hole, some idea of the depth of which may be formed by casting a stone down, and listening to its striking against the sides, until after the lapse of several seconds the sound of its contact with the floor rises like a feeble voice, still further subdued by distance. Descending five steps, a good sight is obtained of the Grotto Cave. It is 25 feet high in places, and about 10 feet wide, with passages in all directions. It runs south-south-east and north-north-west, and is full of interesting vaults and crypts, over which Nature seems to have cast a mystic spell. For alluring charms, fantastic combinations, and disposition of matter, no comparison can be found between it and the most artistic grottoes built by human hands. One grotto is roofed with delicately white and richly-traced formation, studded with stalactites of rare splendour. Here is a delicate white shaft piercing the dome; there a stalagmite within half-an-inch of the stalactite above. A broken pillar suggests either an accident or a barbaric act; near to it is a perfect column, which, in the dim light, seems like a figure emerging from the cave. Close inspection reveals imitations of coral and seaweed, curved stalactites, and filagree work of the most intricate design. Little flakes of lime, like snow, at the back of the grotto, sparkle like twinkling stars.

Another grotto, in the centre of the cave, is made entirely by large stalactites, set off with small ones. Some are covered with filaments about the thickness of ordinary sewing-cotton; others seem as though they were covered with beautiful mosses. Many of the pendants are richly wrought and extremely graceful. The upper stalactites are covered with thicker filaments like twine and pack-thread. A third grotto is remarkable chiefly for a splendid cornice or buttress projecting from a pillar. It is as grand, though not as ornate, as similar formation in the Margherita Cave. It was named on the 10th March 1881, and its designation is appropriate.

Near the exit is a marvellous grotto, at the entrance to which is a massive stalagmitic pillar, five feet in diameter, meeting the end of a stalactite about 15 feet long. The back of the stalagmite constitutes a separate grotto of stalactites and shell-pattern formation. Near to it is a remarkable rock, covered with cauliflower-shaped masses of limestone. It is known as the Cauliflower Rock—the choufleur of the gnomes who guard the unfathomable caves of Jenolan. In yet another grotto, at the rear of the main pillar, is a beautiful canopy, with thin stalactites, straight like walking-canes, and others thin as straws, crystal and opaque. There are also many contorted stalactites and other eccentricities in stone. A little iron ladder makes it easy to descend into this cave of so many beautiful grottoes on gracefully undulating foundations. Near the point of departure is a dangerous spot, for the proper guarding of which arrangements are being made. Adjacent is a considerable quantity of red clay covered with smooth white formation, and fractures of rock round about sparkle with crystals.

THE LUCINDA CAVE.

[CHAPTER XVIII.]

THE LUCINDA CAVE.