The Portland daily press., 1892-10-21
A RACE FOR LIFE.

AGAhiAiSo csCOou AleAAi OAS.'~ SSNUPSS
and looking over the back fence into
eternity, said the man from Kentucky,
when the applause which had followed
the Arkansas drummers bear story had
subsidized. Well, it didn't turn my hair
white, but time has since. You all
know, he continued, that ain Ken
tuckian by right of birth, but you are
not all aware that was born and reared
within a mile of this very spot in which
we now sit. Such is the fact, however.
What / am going to tell you happened
away back in the sixties. I was just
grown up, as straight and tough as a
hickory sapling.
We lived at the base of a considerable
hill which rose toward the east and
stretched its narrow ridge onward for d
mile or two. Not 200 yards from our
door old Isaac johnson built a modest
cabin and brought his family down frou.
Illinois. Dudley, their only boy, was
just about my age, although not en-.
dowed with like endurance and strength.
A warm friendship soon sprang up be-
tween us, however, and we spent many
hours together in the woods with our
rifles.
It was near the end of May, remem
Der. I had been idle for some weeks.
and idleness, you know, just at that sea
son, breeds restlessness in superabun-
dance.
I had often heard of the great Nam.
moth cave, few dozen miles distant,
and / became convinced that the geolog-
ical formation of the hill in the rear of
our home indicated that another huge
cave must surely exist under the green
turfed mound. for in the valleys which
lay at its feet I found numerous sinks
from which gurgling brooks usually
burst, or from which the warm breath
the internal caverns hoated up like the
smoke from some mountain wigwam.
soon confided my conjecture to bud
johnson. We talked the matter over
and decided that on the following day
we would begin series of systematic
explorations. The succeeding day, which
was bright and clear, though unusually
warm, found us setting out with all
the necessary OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES.
matches, rope, etc. We had poked
around in every crack and Granny, and
near noon, having lost all hope, I was
about to call to bud, who had wandered
off up into little skirt Of wood, when a
faint shout reached my ears. hurried
off in the direction whence the voice
seemed to come, and was soon stand
ing on the brink Of what appeared to be
the mouth of our much sought after
cavern.
Away down in the bowels of the earth
could see the yellow flare of buds can
die and family discern his outline as he
bent forward, peering out into the dark
ness before him. The descent to his po-
sition was easy, and filled with joy was
soon beside him. The sweet dampness,
the sepulchral stiffness and the con-
stantly trucking drops that fell from the
beaded ceiling thrilled me with strange
delight. We soon scrambled down from
the PERCEPTIONS ledge on which we stood
and began to grope forward, our candles
Pickering fitfully, as if in danger of be-
| ing blown out at every step.
We had not proceeded twenty PAGES.
however, in the black winged darkness
when we came upon a solid adamantine
wall barring our way and seemingly
ending our journey. However, after
| looking around for some time, we de-
| cided that we could pass under the OBJ
struction just over the brook, which
| flowed serenely from beneath its firm
breast. The place was very narrow,
! and to accomplish this resolve we had
to get down on our hands and knees in
the water. We didn't mind that some
| how, and were soon elated to find our
| selves in an opening as large as if not
larger than the first chamber that we
| entered, although not nearly so high.
From this room we pressed on through
smaller aperture, which gradually as
sumed the proportion of a passage, dam
gerous with jutting rocks and dubious
windings.
| On we hurried, following the tortu-
GUS stream that ran pure, and pellucid
| from the immense cave which we as
sured ourselves must be just ahead. !
can never forget the effect of the low,
| sweet murmuring of that little brook,
loudly audible for the very absence Of
other sounds. We found it terribly
warm work crawling over rough faced
rocks and squeezing through narrow
openings; consequently we every now
and then halted to rest.
l can't say how long we had been
| fioundering about in the sand and
| water-for we still held the course of
| the stream-when a low, roaring reached
our ears. A waterfall we at once sur
missed, certain that a miniature but
beautiful Niagara was just before us.
Gathering new energy we pushed rapid
| " forward, and had gone dozen rods
perhaps when the roar, which percep-
tibly gathered volume, seemed to curl
ously shift itself into a position imme-
diately overhead, but we did not expect
sounds to obey the laws of nature here.
After traversing another dozen rods
or so we suddenly noticed that the
swelling brook was running muddy and
| bore few twigs and dead leaves on its
hurrying surface. Strangely enough
we were not in the least alarmed, fol
we thought it was merely landslide