confused and reluctant mind was now an awful certainty. I was lost, completely,
hopelessly lost in the vast and labyrinthine recess of the Mammoth Cave. Turn as
I might, In no direction could my straining vision seize on any object capable
of serving as a guidepost to set me on the outward path. That nevermore should I
behold the blessed light of day, or scan the pleasant bills and dales of the
beautiful world outside, my reason could no longer entertain the slightest
unbelief. Hope had departed. Yet, indoctrinated as I was by a life of
philosophical study, I derived no small measure of satisfaction from my
unimpassioned demeanour; for although I had frequently read of the wild frenzies
into which were thrown the victims of similar situation, I experienced none of
these, but stood quiet as soon as I clearly realised the loss of my bearings.
Nor did the thought that I had probably wandered beyond the utmost limits of an
ordinary search cause me to abandon my composure even for a moment. If I must
die, I reflected, then was this terrible yet majestic cavern as welcome a
sepulchre as that which any churchyard might afford, a conception which carried
with it more of tranquillity than of despair.
Starving would prove my ultimate fate; of this I was certain. Some, I knew, had
gone mad under circumstances such as these, but I felt that this end would not
be mine. My disaster was the result of no fault save my own, since unknown to
the guide I had separated myself from the regular party of sightseers; and,
wandering for over an hour in forbidden avenues of the cave, had found myself
unable to retrace the devious windings which I had pursued since forsaking my
companions.
Already my torch had begun to expire; soon I would be enveloped by the total and
almost palpable blackness of the bowels of the earth. As I stood in the waning,
unsteady light, I idly wondered over the exact circumstances of my coming end. I
remembered the accounts which I had heard of the colony of consumptives, who,
taking their residence in this gigantic grotto to find health from the
apparently salubrious air of the underground world, with its steady, uniform
temperature, pure air, and peaceful quiet, had found, instead, death in strange
and ghastly form. I had seen the sad remains of their ill-made cottages as I
passed them by with the party, and had wondered what unnatural influence a long
sojourn in this immense and silent cavern would exert upon one as healthy and
vigorous as I. Now, I grimly told myself, my opportunity for settling this point
had arrived, provided that want of food should not bring me too speedy a
departure from this life.
As the last fitful rays of my torch faded into obscurity, I resolved to leave no
stone unturned, no possible means of escape neglected; so, summoning all the
powers possessed by my lungs, I set up a series of loud shoutings, in the vain
hope of attracting the attention of the guide by my clamour. Yet, as I called, I
believed in my heart that my cries were to no purpose, and that my voice,
magnified and reflected by the numberless ramparts of the black maze about me,
fell upon no ears save my own.
