quality and hardness; and just above them is a ledge of fine blue marble. The next chamber is called the Bad Lands, on account of a certain resemblance to that desolate region. The way into it is through the Devil's Corkscrew, a most uninviting passage because it stands on end and is about twelve feet deep with circular, perpendicular walls discouragingly free of prominent irregularities; but careful study reveals a few available crags and rough edges, by which the descent is made. Fortunately the party decreased in size just within the entrance. Climbing up into a hole in the wall of this room, with no little difficulty, the Aerial Lake is the reward of a breathless upward struggle, and a satisfying one. The Lake is very small, but under its clear surface can be seen numerous growing deposits of calcite, while the roof of onyx gleams with a mass of small white stalactites. Returning again to the main route and traveling to the end of a short passage we beheld the entrance to Red Hall, a piece of rope ladder dangling half way down a perpendicular wall, the other half having no help whatever. The way was clear so far as the length of the ladder, and with trust in the future soon learned in cave work that distance was at once passed, and sitting on the very narrow ledge to cogitate on the possibility of further progress, Mr. Sidey solved the problem by suggesting, rather doubtfully, that the easiest way would be to drop off and allow him to interrupt the fall. This method had twice proved the only means of advance in Wind Cave and can be termed rapid transit. The walls of Red Hall are of stratified limestone variegated with patches of red rock, and clay of the same gay hue. It is the highest chamber in the cave and probably the largest. A hole in the wall at the floor level, near the entrance to the passage beyond, gives a glimpse of the cave river flowing on a slightly lower level, not over two feet below the floor we stand on. The water is said to have a depth of fifteen feet, and a rock thrown in gave back the sound of a splash into water not shallow. Entering the passage already referred to, its dimensions decreased to a crawl and then to a squeeze, so that most of its length was taken in a very humble position, which permitted no regard to be paid to the ample mud or little pools of water that must be serenely dragged through as if carrying them away were an agreeable privilege. Even a muddy passage ends in time, and at last we gained a standing point and after a short climb were in Fairies' Palace, a marvel of dainty beauty, and worthy of the distasteful trip just taken. We stood in a narrow passage that divided the small chamber like the central aisle of a cathedral, above which the white roof formed a Gothic arch from which depended countless little stalactites and draperies, while on either side, six feet above the passage, was a floor of onyx supporting exquisite columns of which the highest are not more than three feet.