“Omitting, then, any detailed account of what is called the short route, I pass to a notice of the long route, to which most of our time was given. In taking this we entered the cave as before, passed through the great vestibule, and on for a mile or two through the main branch, over the same route we had already traveled. It seems impossible to realize that this is a cave, it is so high, so wide, so vast. Several of our company remarked this fact. We seemed rather to be in some deep, dark ravine or mountain gorge, wandering by the light of our dim lamps, in some night that was utterly rayless and starless. We at length reached the Bottomless Pit, where we entered upon a path that was new to us. This pit is a deep, dark, fearful chasm, and received its name before anything like bottom had been found. It has now been measured to the depth of one hundred and seventy-five feet, and there may be fissures in the rock descending indefinitely below. Near this pit, we passed over an artificial bridge, and entered the Valley of Humility, through which we made our way, stooping and crawling, until we reached what is the most comical and laughable point in the cave, which is most appropriately named the Winding Way, or Fat Man’s Misery. This is an exceedingly circuitous opening in the rock, about eighteen inches wide, and between three and four hundred feet long. At the entrance of this way, the fissure through which we pass is not more than about two feet deep, and the ceiling above us is so high that we could stand erect without difficulty; but in advancing, the fissure becomes deeper, the rocks on either hand are higher and higher, and the ceiling above becomes lower and lower, and it seems to be, indeed, not only fat, but tall men’s misery. It is a most laughable sight to see a party edging their way through this zigzag path; a path that gives every indication of having been washed and worn by the action of the water for innumerable years. Our party was a decidedly lean one, so that we did not, like many others, have the amusement of seeing some one of aldermanic proportions squeeze and worry his way through. Finally, however, we got through, and came into a large open space, which our guide called Great Relief, and a _relief_ it was, sure enough. Passing on, we entered a large, roomy avenue called River Hall, where we were shown the high-water mark in the cave; where, in times of freshets, the river rises fifty-seven feet, perpendicularly, above low-water mark in the cave. We turned aside from this hall into a large room, to witness a great curiosity called the Bacon Chamber. Here the formations overhead are such as to make the room look remarkably like a large smoke-house filled with hams; and near by we were shown a smooth circular excavation in the wall above us, which was pointed out as the _kettle_ for boiling these hams, now turned bottom upward. Returning to the Hall, we went forward, passing several