Here ends the First Route. We retrace our steps as far as Bandit Hall, where some one raises the question if there is no way out but by Fat Man’s Misery. The guide answers, “Yes, by the Corkscrew,” adding the warning, “Those who come in by the Fat Man’s Misery go out by the Corkscrew, and those who come in by the Corkscrew go out by the Fat Man’s Misery: and whichever way they take, they wish they had taken the other.” So, up we scramble like so many rats, under or over great ledges, leaping from rock to rock, or climbing ladders, through what seems like an enormous pit that had been filled in with gigantic rocks, till at last, breathless, we emerge upon the Kentucky Cliffs in the Main Cave. A few steps carry us past the saltpeter vats, through the Rotunda, and the iron gate is unlocked to let us into the vestibule, whence we climb the stone stairs to daylight. [Illustration: “Bridal Altar”] [Illustration: COPYRIGHT 1908 BY H. C. GANTER ROUTE II STAR CHAMBER, GOTHIC AVENUE etc.] REMINDERS OF THE WAR 1812 1. WOODEN PIPES IN THE FLOOR 2. FIRST SALTPETER VATS 3. PIPE LINES 4. TRACKS OF OXEN AND CARTS 5. SECOND SALTPETER VATS 6. HEAPS OF LIXIVIATED EARTH OTHER FEATURES 7. MUMMY’S NICHE 8. REGISTER WALL 9. PILLAR OF HERCULES 10. CAESAR AND POMPEY 11. BRIDAL ALTAR 12. HORNETS’ NESTS 13. NAPOLEON’S BREASTWORKS 14. LOADED CAMEL 15. ELEPHANTS’ HEADS 16. PICTURE FRAME ROUTE II Olive’s Bower, Star Chamber, and Gothic Avenue After a suitable period of rest and refreshment at the Hotel we resume our way along the same path taken for the first route, but presently deviate to explore Audubon Avenue, of which we had only seen the beginning. It is related that when the great ornithologist visited Rafinesque, the former smashed a fine violin in his eagerness to capture a unique specimen of the bat family. As a kind of amicable revenge the latter affixed Audubon’s name to this avenue, where so many myriads of bats annually hibernate. It is fitting that the great branch to the left, sweeping for three hundred and fifty feet and suddenly ending in a tumble-down, should be named Rafinesque Hall. Unless our visit is in late fall or winter, we find but few clusters of bats; but in cold weather they gather here from near and far and hang head-downward till somehow, by a sense not explained, they know it is warm weather out-of-doors, and then fly forth to the forests. Dr. Call boasts of a single catch that gave him six hundred and seventy bats, of many varieties, most of which were sent to the National Museum.