Journey to the Bottomless Pit
Page 4
“Think how long it took to make this,” Gorin said, pointing at the formation blocking their way. “If you ask me, that’s been building since the time of Noah’s Ark!”
Stephen was moving his lantern up and down, looking closely at the curtain of rock. Now he saw something. Along the left-hand wall, the formation did not reach all the way to the floor!
Stephen got down on his hands and knees. He could see a crack with just enough room to crawl through. “Mr. Gorin,” he said, “there’s a way through here. I’m going in.”
Archibald Miller came, too. The rough stone scraped their shoulders, but they made it past the stone curtain. The passage continued in front of them.
After some grunting and squeezing, the other men joined them. “I had no idea all of this was here,” Gorin said. “This cave is more than I bargained for!”
The men made many more discoveries that day. They found several small domes decorated with beautiful orange and white formations. They found a wide passageway with pure white walls and ceiling.
To mark the occasion, Mr. Gorin wrote his name in the cave. He used the smoke from his lantern to make a dark smudge on the rocky ceiling. Then he scratched “F. Gorin, Sept. 5, 1838.”
Mr. Gorin wrote something else, too. It was a letter to the newspaper in Louisville, the nearest big city in Kentucky, telling about the new discoveries. After it was published, many more visitors starting coming to the cave.
Stephen was busy. His tours lasted longer now that there were more trails to show. Stairs were built to allow visitors to reach Gorin’s Dome. Stephen kept exploring until he knew the new tunnels as well as the old ones. Only the Bottomless Pit stopped him.
One day that fall, Stephen led a group through the cave. One of the men who paid for the tour was H. C. Stevenson, from Georgetown, Kentucky. Stevenson seemed very interested in the cave. Even before they reached the entrance he started asking questions.
Stephen didn’t mind. He loved to talk about Mammoth. He showed his customers as much as he could that day, but Stevenson wanted to see even more. The next day, he paid extra for Stephen to lead him on a private tour. He wanted to see things beyond the usual trails.
So Stephen took him to places that were hard to reach. Stevenson was young and healthy and able to squeeze under low ceilings and climb up steep slopes. Stephen showed him a place called the Solitary Cave, which could be reached only by crawling for a long distance. Then the men made their way through the Labyrinth. Stephen held the lantern while his customer viewed Gorin’s Dome.
“Like nothing I’ve ever seen,” Stevenson said in admiration. “I’ll warrant even the caves in Europe are not so beautiful.”
He wanted to see everything, every strange formation and crack in the wall. Stephen was enjoying himself. Stevenson was the first person who seemed as excited as he was about the cave.
Now Stephen took Stevenson to the edge of the Bottomless Pit. Stephen threw down a burning scrap of paper to demonstrate how deep it was. Slowly the paper fell, twisting and turning as it burned, until it was lost in total darkness. No bottom could be seen.
Stevenson whistled. Then he pointed across the pit, to the passageway on the other side. “Have you thought about getting over there?”
All of a sudden, Stephen’s stomach felt knotted up. Yes, of course he’d thought about it. But until now there had been nobody to join in his plan.
“I can’t do it by myself,” he told Stevenson. “But if there are two of us, we could use the ladder.”
Ever since stairs were built so that people could reach Gorin’s Dome, the ladder Stephen and the others had used was not needed. Stephen dragged it to the edge of the pit. He knew it was long enough to reach across the frightening gap. But he had been afraid that the ladder would slip while he crawled across. With nobody to hold it steady, it might dump him into the darkness.
Stevenson set down his lantern and scratched his head, looking back and forth from the ladder to the opening.
Would this stranger help him? Stephen was breathless. He realized that he had been waiting a long time for this.
“I want to cross, too,” Stevenson decided. “I’ll hold the ladder for you, then you do the same for me.” Stephen nodded eagerly.
They stood the ladder at the edge of Bottomless Pit. Carefully, they lowered it until the other end touched the far side. But as soon as Stephen crawled onto the first rung, the ladder teetered.
Stevenson knelt immediately to brace the ladder. He leaned his weight onto it to hold it down firmly. Stephen could feel the difference.
He and Stevenson looked at each other. Were they crazy to be trying this? Stephen didn’t think so. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. He could see the same excitement in Mr. Stevenson’s eyes.
Now Stephen had to figure out how to take his lamp.
Without light, they wouldn’t be able to see on the other side. But he needed both hands to hold on to the ladder. How could he take the oil lamp, too?
“I’ve got an idea,” Stevenson said. He reached inside his coat. From his vest pocket he pulled a clean white handkerchief. He wrapped it tightly around the metal handle of the lamp. “Can you carry it in your teeth?” he asked Stephen.
Stephen gave it a try. He gripped the handkerchief wrapped around the handle. At the same time he had to be careful not to let the lamp touch his chest, because it was hot and would burn him. He crawled onto the ladder with the lamp dangling under his chin. It was heavy, and he knew his neck would hurt later. But he didn’t care.
Stephen took a deep breath. Then he inched out over the pit.
He did not look down. Instead, he fixed his eyes on the new passageway. He would be the first person ever to set foot in it. Surely the old Indians never got this far.
The ladder rocked very gently as Stephen scooted forward. He moved as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to be on this rickety bridge very long!
Closer . . . closer . . . he was there!
He let the lantern clang onto the rocky floor and jumped to his feet. He couldn’t help himself. He threw his arms up in the air and yelled.
Stevenson was clapping. “Good work!” he said.
Stephen looked back to see the white man still kneeling in the dirt. Then he turned and looked into the new tunnel. The path rose gently and went over a small hill. Stephen couldn’t see any more from where he stood.
“My turn now,” said Stevenson. “Hold the ladder.”
Stephen remembered that he was on the job. Mr. Stevenson had paid for a private tour. How much farther would he want to go? Stephen would have been happy to explore all day.
Stephen knelt onto his end of the ladder. Stevenson checked very carefully on his side to make sure the legs would stay in place. They would be in deep, deep trouble if their ladder fell into the Bottomless Pit.
Stevenson readied his own lantern and prepared to crawl. Then he made a mistake. He looked down into the pit.
Immediately Stephen could see fear come into the other man’s face. Stevenson’s forehead was showing beads of sweat, and his hands were shaking on the ladder.
He did not look down. Instead, he fixed his eyes on the new passageway.
“Mr. Stevenson,” Stephen called. Maybe it would help if he kept talking. “I think I hear water down this tunnel. I think we’re about to discover something important.”
He didn’t really hear any water. He just wanted to get Stevenson’s attention. But his words worked. Stevenson started moving forward again.
He was soon across. Stephen took his lantern and helped him stand up.
Stevenson passed his hand over his face. “Did it,” he said, almost to himself. “What a tale this will make!”
They grinned at each other, two brave explorers. Then Stephen stepped into the new passage and lifted his lantern. They walked forward into the unknown.
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Stevenson kept close behind him. The passage was narrow now and headed downhill. The ground underfoot was covered with small pebbles.
Suddenly, they came to a place where the tunnel branched. The main passage headed off to the right. The pathway was wide and high enough to walk comfortably. In front of them, though, the space kept narrowing. The passage sloped very gently up to the ceiling. At the top of the slope was a narrow hole, barely high enough to crawl into.
“What do we do now?” Stevenson asked. He started walking toward the right-hand tunnel.
“Do not lose sight of the guide!” Stephen said quickly. Then he froze. He wanted only to keep Stevenson from running ahead, but it sounded as though he was ordering around a white man. If Stevenson complained to Archibald Miller, Stephen could be whipped.
Stevenson looked sharply at him. But he only held his lantern toward the wide tunnel. “Aren’t we going this way?”
The right-hand tunnel would be much easier to explore. But Stephen felt something about the left-hand way. He couldn’t even describe what it was. He just knew that he wanted to go in there.
Then Stephen noticed something. The look of the slope heading up into the smaller passage reminded him of something. In the smooth dirt he could see curved patterns just like those in the mud around the edge of a pond. It looked as though water had flowed down from this opening, leaving very fine dirt behind. He explained his thoughts to Stevenson.
“It took a lot of water to bring all this dirt in here,” he said. “And look how smooth the walls of that crawlway are. Water came through this opening, for sure.”
“Is that important?” Stevenson asked.
Stephen said, “No one has ever found a river in the cave. It would be a huge discovery. Even bigger than crossing the Bottomless Pit.”
In the dim light, he could see Stevenson smile. “All right,” the white man said. “Lead the way. If you get stuck, I can still back out!”
Stephen crawled up the gentle slope to the hole. He couldn’t see far. The passage soon curved out of sight.
“I’ll leave my lantern here,” Stevenson said. “It’s going to be hard enough for you to carry one. Do you really want to do this?”
Stephen did indeed. He had crossed the Bottomless Pit, so why should he stop now? He wanted to see how far they could explore today.
Crouching, he led the way into the passage.
In only a minute his body began to protest. His arm was sore from holding out the lantern. His back was bent so low that finally he had to go on hands and knees. He could hear Stevenson crawling close behind him. The passageway became narrower and narrower, and the smoke from the lamp burned their eyes.
Now he had to stop. The lamp was getting so heavy! He set it down for a minute and pulled his water bottle around from his back.
He could hear Stevenson doing the same. They drank deeply, then rested for a bit. Now Stephen could see that the ceiling ahead was becoming even lower. Could they be heading into a dead end?
Stephen kept his thoughts to himself. Stevenson couldn’t see past him, so he had no idea what was coming. Stephen judged that the other man would speak up if he became too worried about the crawl.
He had learned from his job that certain people did not enjoy being inside the cave. Some were frightened of the dark. Others did not like the feel of being underneath so much rock. A few were deathly afraid of low, tight passageways.
But Stevenson seemed to be fine. He even made a small joke as they started crawling again. “I wouldn’t want to be a fat man on this trail,” he said. “What a misery!”
The smooth dirt floor of the passageway sloped gently upward. Soon Stephen had to lie on his belly, pulling himself by his hands through the winding passageway and pushing along with his feet. Behind him, Stevenson wasn’t talking anymore.
Please God, Stephen prayed, let us reach the end of this passageway. He dreaded the idea of having to creep out backward along this tight passage.
Then he felt a miracle on his face. It was the slightest breath of air, and it smelled like water.
All this time he had been carefully nudging the lantern along in front of him. Suddenly the lantern tilted forward. Stephen caught it just in time before it tipped over.
They were through! Stephen shouted the good news. Then he gave one last pull on the rocky wall and emerged into a new passageway.
He turned immediately to help Stevenson. But the neatly dressed young man Stephen had guided into the cave that morning was gone. Out of the hole in the wall crawled a man-shaped mass of mud. Even his beard was full of it.
Stephen couldn’t help himself. His relief was so great that he suddenly forgot all his slave manners. He burst out laughing at the sight of Stevenson scraping mud off his face.
Stevenson looked up, surprised. His mouth hung open as he gazed at Stephen. Then he looked down at his clothes and realized what he looked like. He pointed at Stephen.
“Did you buy your clothing from the same tailor? For yours looks just the same as mine!” And then he laughed, too.
Stephen wiped uselessly at his pant legs. Even his shoes were filled with mud. But it barely made sense to try and scrape them clean, if they had to go back by the same hole. Instead, he held the lantern out front again.
They had come out into a passage that was easy to walk in. It sloped downhill. This time, the floor was covered with fine sand.
At last he and Stevenson reached a room where several passageways branched off. The lantern light showed them a smooth, muddy floor. Stephen was more and more excited. Maybe all this mud meant they were about to reach some large body of water.
Stephen had an idea. He pointed to the damp ground. “If you walk there, your footsteps will be the first since Creation,” he told Stevenson, and handed him the lantern. “Go ahead!”
Stevenson did so. He left a trail of footprints to the opposite wall. Then he lifted the lantern and peered down the nearest tunnel. “Come on!” he commanded.
The two men were powerfully excited. There were new tunnels on all sides. Stevenson would be leaving Mammoth Cave soon, but Stephen had many days of exploring in front of him.
At last, just as they were both getting tired, Stephen and his customer reached the edge of a cliff. Far below them, down a slippery slope, they could see water. The lantern light dimly showed them a stream of water, flowing out of sight in both directions.
This time it was Stevenson who gave a whoop of glee. “Yahooooo!” he yelled as loud as he could. The echoes lasted for a long time. Stephen was just as excited. If a bridge was built across Bottomless Pit, and if the tunnel he and Stevenson had squeezed through could be dug out to create an easier passage, visitors would have many new sights to behold in the cave.
Stevenson was gazing down at the dark, silent stream below them. “Let’s call it the River Styx,” he said.
The River Sticks? That couldn’t be right. “What does it mean?” Stephen asked. So Stevenson told him the old Greek myth while they rested from their travels.
“The Styx marked the boundary of the underworld,” Stevenson said. “The ancient Greeks believed that when a person died, his spirit traveled far below ground, to the shores of the River Styx. The only way to cross to Hades, the land of the dead, was on a ferryboat. But the boatman would not take you there without payment. Any dead spirit who couldn’t give him a coin was left on shore, doomed to wander forever. That’s why when a Greek person died, he was buried with a coin under his tongue to pay the ferryman.”
Stephen looked down at the river again. “I thank God I’m alive, then,” he said. “For I haven’t a penny to pay with.”
Stevenson laughed. “I’ll give you more than a penny when we get back. This trip is worth a gold piece!”
A New Master
H. C. Stevenson kept his word. When they returned to the hotel, he told Franklin Gorin he’
d had the most exciting day of his life. He couldn’t stop talking about his adventures. He praised Stephen and handed him a piece of gold.
Stephen looked quickly at Mr. Gorin. Under the Kentucky slave code, his master could take the money. Many owners hired out their slaves but kept the earnings for themselves.
But Franklin Gorin was smiling widely. “First Gorin’s Dome, now across the Bottomless Pit,” he said. “I’ll have to write another letter to the papers! You’ve earned your dollar, Stephen.”
A few weeks later Mr. Gorin called to Stephen from the back door of the hotel. Stephen hurried over. Gorin was holding a newspaper.
“Look, here’s my letter,” he said, and pointed to the second page of the Louisville Journal. He read it aloud to Stephen. It was about how H. C. Stevenson, in the company of a guide, had crossed the Bottomless Pit for the first time in history. It told of Stevenson’s discovery of the River Styx, the first river ever found in the cave.
“Now the cave will be even more famous,” Mr. Gorin told Stephen. He was beaming with pride.
Stephen smiled, but inside he felt angry. The letter had not described what had truly happened in the cave. Anyone who read the newspaper would think that H.C. Stevenson had been the first one to cross the Bottomless Pit and reach the River Styx. Stephen was not even mentioned by name!
The man he had guided could never have made it across the pit by himself. It had been Stephen’s idea to use the ladder, and he had told his friends all about the adventure. They knew the truth—but no one else would.
Even thinking about the dollar he had earned didn’t help. He would never feel the same about that day.
But there was no time for Stephen to mope around. The next few weeks were busier than ever before, as visitors from Louisville and other Kentucky towns came to see the cave. Even so, Stephen found time to explore. As the weeks passed, he found more and more new passageways. He also helped build a sturdy wooden bridge across the Bottomless Pit so that visitors could be conducted across it in safety.
Stephen was working very hard. All slaves worked long days, from sunup to sundown, but they were allowed a few hours’ rest during the hottest part of the afternoon. Underground in the cave, Stephen was away from the broiling sun, so he did not receive a midday break. Those who came to the cave wanted to see everything they could. As a result of Stephen’s many new discoveries, the tours sometimes lasted for twelve hours!