Chapter II: Part 2

But an examination of the top of the Mendips points to a vaster antiquity still. The published horizontal section No. 17 of the Geological Survey gives an excellent idea of the plateau of Mendip, which stretches from immediately north of Wells to the neighbourhood of Compton Martin. This plane of denudation would never have been reached save by the long-continued action of subterraneous streams, an assumption supported by the existence of the great depression crossed by the road from Wells to Priddy. That depression of nearly 100 feet in depth and several miles in length, hollowed in the hard Carboniferous Limestone, here dotted with every known type of swallet or swallow hole, has been obviously formed by the slow action of swallet streams prolonged through vast periods of time. Every atom of the millions of tons of solid rock represented by this depression has been borne down the course of the subterranean Axe. Tributary to this depression a little valley has been eroded across the Old Red Sandstone anticline immediately to the north, and in it are deposited masses of Dolomitic Conglomerate, the component pebbles of which were derived from the surrounding rocks. The same valley existed, therefore, in pre-Triassic time, and as there was obviously no other outlet for its water, the cavities into which it flowed--that is to say, the swallets and subterranean channels--must have existed also, and are therefore pre-Triassic in date. Though at first sight this appears impossible, inasmuch as the known course of the resulting Axe River is through Triassic Conglomerate, I propose to show that such a conclusion is necessary and inevitable. Long ago I was struck with the fact that at Wookey Hole the Triassic Conglomerate attains an abnormal thickness, and measurements have shown that at the far end of the cavern there is certainly a thickness of over 350 feet of this rock. As there is no sign of any approach to the Limestone against which it must abut, nor any change in the character of the Conglomerate itself at this point, I think that we may fairly conclude that the total thickness of it must be at least 500 feet. Now this is a vast deposit, far exceeding any known to exist elsewhere, and it requires a special explanation to account for it. Only one explanation is possible. The Conglomerate is here filling in some great pre-existing valley in the Mountain Limestone. That is just what I should expect.

The great Limestone cavern formed by the action of the swallet streams in early Triassic times collapsed, and formed a Limestone ravine, into which was rolled a great accumulation of fragments of the Limestone derived from the slopes and crags above. With the whole of this part of England these beds were subsequently submerged, remaining so during the deposit of the whole of the Secondary beds; and on their emerging once more from beneath the sea the lines of drainage were re-established along the old courses, where these had not been choked with sedimentary material. Forcing a way through the Conglomerate which then impeded its flow, the river formed those cavities which we see. Indeed, it may well be that the successive levels cut by the Axe through the Conglomerate may represent stages in the uplifting of the land, the lowest channel being the last and largest, as it has been formed during an extended period of stability. But we are not without evidences of another sort as to the existence of some of our swallet ways at that remote period. The cavities found in the Holwell quarries, near Frome, filled in with Rhaetic material containing bones and teeth of fishes; those of Gurney-Slade, near Radstock; and numbers which from time to time are laid bare in the Limestone quarries, all filled in with Triassic sediment, show that penetrating waterways of considerable size then existed. There was, too, at Charterhouse-on-Mendip, north of Cheddar, a fissure, possibly a swallet, which, being open, received an infilling of Liassic material that is known to extend to a depth of 300 feet. Had these channels been closed by a narrow aperture temporarily blocked, no infilling but by water would have taken place when the land sank beneath the waters of the Triassic and Liassic seas.

Furthermore, in the position of the entrances of many of our swallets there is corroborative evidence to the same effect. The great circular swallet on Rookham, near Wells, situated far from any existing line of drainage, yet withal one of the largest cavities on Mendip, shows that great changes have taken place since it was an active waterway. The position of the caverns of Compton Bishop and of Banwell, far removed from any stream or any line of drainage possible with the present contours, proves that the configuration of the country has utterly changed since they formed the points of engulfment of any streams. The Coral Cave (as we have called it) at Compton Bishop descends abruptly into the earth, and its outlet must have been far below the level where now the Triassic Marl forms an impervious barrier. The waters of Banwell Pond rise through the Marl, forced upwards through beds which do not yield water and ordinarily retard its passage. Doubtless the Marl when it was deposited covered some earlier outlet from the Limestone. The waters of St. Andrew's Well, at Wells, are forced upwards through Dolomitic Conglomerate and overlying Pleistocene gravel, the former of which was doubtless deposited upon what was once a free and unimpeded outlet from the Mountain Limestone, similar to that of Cheddar. The water of Rickford, near Burrington, resulting from the streams engulfed at and around Burrington, is forced up through the Secondary beds, which have been similarly deposited upon the pre-existing outlet. All these things help to demonstrate that what I contend is true, viz. that our caverns as a whole are pre-Triassic in age. The Long Hole at Cheddar, high in the cliffs above Gough's Cave, lends its evidence too. Contrary to all the other caves at Cheddar, it was a channel of intake for the water which formed it. Doubtless it is a fragment of a larger cavern, which, before the gorge of Cheddar itself was formed, existed in the mass of rock occupying the whole area. At the northern end of the Limestone defile of Ebbor, near Wells, the ravine is carved through Dolomitic Conglomerate, which has been much worked for iron ore. The fact that this Conglomerate was deposited in a depression in the land, at the head of the present ravine, yet without entering it, suggests that here was an entrance to a series of caverns, the collapse of which produced the gorge.

_Photo by Bamforth, Holmfirth_]

_Photo by H. E. Balch._]

The Devil's Punchbowl, near the Castle of Comfort Inn on the Mendips, is, in all probability, a collapse of the remarkable Lias beds which there occur into some pre-existing cavity in the Mountain Limestone below, somewhat in the same manner as the Shake Holes in the Glacial Drift on the Yorkshire moors were formed. No one questions the existence of the cavities beneath before the deposit of the Drift, neither do I doubt the existence of swallets beneath the Trias and Lias before these were deposited on the Mendips. The question naturally arises, Why do we not find in our caverns remains of all the ages that have elapsed since that time? Why are only Pleistocene remains discovered? Surely, because we have not found them it does not follow that they are nonexistent. The recent discovery of Pliocene remains in a cavern at Doveholes, near Buxton (Derbyshire), is clear proof that we may search hopefully for similar remains in the Mendips. It must be borne in mind, that the further we go back in time, the more certain we are to find that the contents of any Limestone cavern would be completely mineralised, until the whole of the contents may have become cemented into a solid mass. Where running water is present, attrition may have destroyed them, or borne them onwards to those great depths where, constantly submerged as they must be, we can never hope to penetrate. I am aware, however, of the existence, in the Eastwater Cavern, of very ancient chokes of water-borne material, from which I have some hope of obtaining remains.

I might mention the demonstrated antiquity of the bosses of stalagmite in Kent's Cavern at Torquay, and from it argue the immense age of the great masses of stalagmite in the Mendip Caves, but, recognising the variable rate of deposit of the carbonate of lime in different caverns, and indeed in different parts of the same cavern, no useful purpose would be served thereby. The huge Beehive of Lamb's Lair at Harptree, the large boss in the first great chamber at Wookey Hole, Gough's "Niagara" at Cheddar, the tall and slender pillars in Cox's Cave at Cheddar, and the taller "Sentinel" pillar at Wookey Hole, all demand for their formation a prodigious length of time, which it is but folly to attempt to compute with our present information. Certainly many thousands of years are required for some of them, and it should be remembered that we have then arrived merely at the time when the floor upon which they stand had received its final form, the action of running water having ceased.[2] Who can doubt then, that, as we stand in the great waterways of the profound depths of our hills, we are looking upon scenes which have varied little since remote ages, and that in some form or other these waterways played an important part in the degradation of the earlier and loftier Mendip range?

[2] In 1894 the initials "T. W." were carved by Mr. Willcox of Wells on the great stalagmite bank in the end chamber of Lamb's Lair. I added "1894," that in years to come some measure may be obtained of the rate at which this bank is being formed. I make a rule of never making an inscription, but in this case I thought that the end justified the means.

It is worthy of remark in this connection that the veteran M. Martel, commenting upon the caverns of Mendip, says, "In consequence of the existence, on the flanks of the Mendip Hills, of deposits of Triassic Dolomitic Conglomerate (Keuper) of Rhaetian beds, and of possibly Glacial alluvia, unconformably on the Carboniferous Limestone, the outflow of the water in the risings operates in three ways: (A) by large fissures in the Limestone itself, when it flows out freely, as at Cheddar; (B) through the crevices in the Dolomitic Conglomerate (the Axe at Wookey Hole, etc.); (C) where the outlet of the water from the Limestone is hidden by alluvia (St. Andrews Well, at Wells). The consequence of this arrangement is that it will be possible--notably at Wookey Hole, when the explorations now going on have enlarged the new galleries recently found--to ascertain whether the Dolomitic Conglomerate is there shown in long beds of ancient shores, regularly superposed on the Limestone, or rather accumulated in filled-up pockets, in hollows pre-existing in the Limestone; that is to say, there will be a material verification of Mr. Balch's hypothesis (already outlined by Boyd Dawkins in 1874) of the very ancient excavation of certain caves of the Mendip Hills, even before the Keuper period. The lie of the Conglomerate under the vaulted roofs of Wookey Hole appeared to me to favour this idea. And it is necessary to wait till formal proofs have been gathered together here, that caves were hollowed out there before the Trias. I recall, on this subject, that long ago I concluded, with Messrs. De Launey, Van den Broeck, Boule, etc., that the formation of caves could commence in the most distant geological epochs, and that the pockets of phosphorites, among others at Quercy and the Albanets of Couvin (Belgium), testify to caves or abysses of at least Eocene times."

H. E. B.

CAVE EXPLORING AS A SPORT

We are called a nation of sportsmen; yet the first criticism we level against any new sport, not our own, is the question, usually unanswerable and always irrelevant, What is the use of it? One may then, with a certain show of propriety, point out that cave exploring is a sport not entirely lacking in utilitarian or scientific objects. It belongs, in fact, to that large class which originated as something else than mere pastime. Mountaineering and hunting are typical representatives of that class. The earliest mountaineers were geographers. Cave exploring was first of all taken up as a branch of archæological and palæontological research, and then as a general inquiry into the physical nature of caves. But a science that has discovery as its principal object, and hardships and adventure as its natural concomitants, is bound to attract as many sportsmen as scientists. The geographical might be called the sporting sciences. And so there are now many ardent cave explorers who would blush to be called speleologists, their sole motive being the enjoyment of the game, and scientific results purely a by-product. Thus the science of caves has given birth to a sport that subserves its aims in the same irregular way as rock-climbing and peak-bagging subserve the aims of geography, geology, meteorology, and other sciences.

Speleology itself is, comparatively, a new science. Cave hunting, the search for human and animal remains, has been an important bypath of scientific investigation since the days of Dean Buckland and the discoveries recorded in _Reliquiæ Diluvianæ_, 1823. Professor Boyd Dawkins has in recent decades done still more valuable work for palæontology. Speleology is a word of both wider and narrower meaning; in the widest sense covering all kinds of knowledge about caves, their geography, geology, hydrology, their fauna, their palæontology. But most speleologists confine their attention to the physical characteristics of caves. This side of the inquiry has practical utilities. At Vaucluse, for instance, near Avignon, M. Bouvier in 1878 explored the channels of a gigantic siphon that carries the waters of an inaccessible reservoir into the Fontaine de Vaucluse, a famous "rising." His object was partly scientific, and partly to determine the nature of this permanent source, so as to utilise its waters to regulate the level of the Sorgue, to extend the irrigation system of the neighbourhood, and to secure water-power for manufacturing purposes. The Katavothra of Pod-Stenami were enlarged by an enterprising engineer, and protected by iron gratings, after their subterranean exits had been explored, and so utilised to regulate the drainage of the marshy plains of Laibach, and to prevent periodical inundations. In our own country, underground exploration has brought to light valuable water-supplies, and enabled us to safeguard the public interests by pointing out sources of pollution. Caves are most abundant in the districts where those great fissures known as rakes occur, which are rich in minerals, especially lead, calamine, copper, gypsum, and fluor-spar. During the short period in which cave work has been taken up as a sport, discoveries have been made, which of course it is impossible to particularise, that may be the source of considerable profit in the future.

The majority of those engaged in this physical exploration of caves are French. France possesses a Société de Spéléologie, the secretary of which, Monsieur E. A. Martel, author of _Les Abîmes_, is a most indefatigable and courageous explorer, and the man who has made the science an important and a living one. But M. Martel himself awards the title of "créateur de la spéléologie" to a forgotten predecessor, Dr. Adolphe Schmidl, who published _Die Grotten und Höhlen von Adelsberg_, in 1854. In this country, although such brilliant discoveries have been made of extinct animals and prehistoric relics of humanity, cave exploring of this kind is a new pursuit. M. Martel says, in _Irlande et Cavernes Anglaises_, 1897: "In short, the underground of the calcareous regions of the British Isles may be considered as being, topographically, very insufficiently known; this is the conviction impressed on me by my own researches in 1893." Something has been accomplished since that date. Two or three clubs, consisting chiefly of climbers, and a few speleologists working independently, have effected a thorough examination of the great caverns of the Peak, the extraordinary system of underground waters, huge cavities, and profound abysses in the West Riding, and the beautiful caverns of Somerset. But the ground that remains unexplored, the opportunities for adventure and the possibilities of discovery are such as may probably astonish those people who think there is nothing of the sort left in Old England.

Caves are formed in calcareous strata by the chemical action of water laden with carbonic acid, and by the mechanical action of streams. In consequence of the original structure of the Limestone, the joints of which run at right angles to the bedding planes, these eroded hollows have two dominant forms: the vertical pot, swallet, or hole, produced by the widening of a master-joint; and the horizontal water-channel, running in the same direction as the line of stratification. But the strata being commonly tilted, these pits and abysses are often a long way out of the vertical, and the caverns that follow the strata very steep. Many of these ancient watercourses are now dry, but others are still traversed by streams, and present the explorer with most formidable obstacles. The complete exploration of any cave system would involve the tracing out of all its passages from the point where the stream or streams enter the earth to the point of exit. But I know not a single instance where such a task has been worked out in its entirety. In many cases the streams enter the ground merely as small rivulets, and begin to excavate passages practicable to man only at a considerable depth. "Siphons," or traps, as they ought to be called, complete or partial chokes, and a variety of other causes, may put insuperable obstacles in the explorer's way.

Take two of the most important cave problems still awaiting solution, one in Yorkshire, the other in Somerset. A large beck is precipitated into the abyss of Gaping Ghyll, 360 feet deep, and emerges from an opening in the hillside, a mile away, close to the mouth of Ingleborough Cave, which was itself an earlier exit. Several parties have descended Gaping Ghyll, and followed the passages at the bottom to a distance of more than 1000 feet. Then impenetrable water-sinks, and muddy chambers with no outlet, have been encountered, and the communication with the lower cavern has hitherto proved undiscoverable. Both the dry galleries and the canals of Ingleborough Cave have been explored, with great toil and daring, to a considerable distance upwards, with similar results; and though many speleologists are still absorbed in this problem, there is little hope that it will be cleared up without adopting the drastic and costly measure of cutting through the obstructions. The other problem is that of Wookey Hole, the cave in Britain which has the longest history, and which is still yielding interesting discoveries. A number of streams disappear into the earth on the Mendip plateau, 2 miles away and 700 feet above, and find their issue in the source of the Axe at Wookey Hole. Two of the Mendip swallets have been explored to a great depth. Swildon's Hole, an exquisite series of terraced galleries and stalactite grottoes, has been penetrated to a depth of 300 feet. But a more determined attempt has been made to reach the bottom of the Eastwater Cavern. This was discovered in 1902 by my friend Mr. Balch, of Wells, by means of opening the swallet, where a tiny brook ran away through small crevices in a Limestone ravine. A far-extending cave was thus disclosed, full of intricate ramifications, that explain in a graphic manner how new galleries are formed and old ones left dry and deserted, as the result of floods and partial chokes. We have, in the longest route discovered in this complicated system, reached a distance of 2000 feet from the entrance and a depth below the surface of 500 feet. At this point no absolutely impassable barrier has been met with. There is reason to hope that we may still advance farther into the mysterious region between it and Wookey Hole. But the formidable difficulties of the journey hither have set a limit to endurance. Hundreds of feet of creeping through steep, narrow, and contorted passages, compared with which a series of drain-pipes would afford luxurious travelling; perpendicular drops of 50 and 90 feet, with no convenient ledges at the top for letting men down; and, in addition, the necessity of transporting great quantities of tackle to the bitter end of it, have made a twelve hours' day underground as much as we could stand. The difficulty may perhaps be got over by means of a subterranean bivouac. Unfortunately, it would not do to leave the apparatus in position for long beforehand, as it would deteriorate so rapidly. In Wookey Hole itself, we have not yet succeeded in reaching a farther distance than 600 feet from the cave mouth; there a submerged tunnel has stood in the way. But Mr. Balch has thoroughly explored the upper passages that honeycomb the rock above the known caves; he has discovered a number of promising galleries, which are being slowly cleared of débris; and, among them, a series of the most beautiful incrusted grottoes in Britain. A season of drought may reveal an opening up the river-course.

Innumerable similar problems still await solution. Some of us have been engaged in trying with pick and crowbar to engineer a way into the swallets above Castleton, which send their waters through the heart of the hills down to the caves in the dale of Hope. One of these, which we have penetrated to a distance of 350 feet, may turn out to be the entrance to as wonderful a chain of caverns as those of Eastwater. Long Kin Hole, Helln Pot, and other tremendous cavities in the Ingleborough district, still promise good sport. Of all the varieties of cave forms these vertical holes are the most impressive, and also the most perilous to explore. No exploit stands out more finely in the record of that intrepid explorer, M. Martel, than his single-handed descent into Gaping Ghyll, the first ever accomplished. In the Cevennes, however, he has reached the bottom of abysses still more profound, though without the unpleasant accompaniment of falling water. One of the most awkward of the descents described by him is that of the Aven de Vigne Close (Ardèche), 190 mètres in depth. This strange pit is almost a corkscrew in shape, comprising five perpendicular drops, the bottom of one being a few feet from the top of the next. To manage the final pitch, with a chain of rope ladders 40 mètres too short, it was necessary to get six men down to the "Salle à Manger" at the foot of the fourth stage, others remaining as sentinels at the head of the various stages. Some of these waited on their narrow perches for eleven hours, in the dark, with nothing to do but listen to the distant noises of their comrades at work. One man, hanging at the end of a rope, succeeded single-handed in fastening a pulley to the free end of the second ladder, and so let down the third ladder to the required extent. This critical operation was carried out under grave difficulties, the nerves of the whole party having been shaken a few minutes earlier by the accidental fall of a heavy lamp, which was within an inch of killing the men beneath.

Elden Hole, in the Peak of Derbyshire, a yawning cavity 200 feet deep, with an inner cave 65 feet deeper, has been descended several times recently. On the first occasion, through the inexperience of the party, I had the privilege of spending nine hours in the hole, in a state of uncertainty as to whether it was in the power of the other men to get me out. On the next occasion, we let down a dozen men safely. But there still remains the possibility that excavation might clear up the puzzle as to the connection of Elden Hole with other swallets and caves in the vicinity. The old miners believed that it had communication with the natural chambers in the Speedwell Mine; and that is a problem which will entail exploration in collapsible boats along the flooded levels. The great chasm in the Speedwell, which used to be reputed bottomless, has been proved to be only 90 feet deep. It has an upward extension, in the same steep rake, which has not been climbed, nor its top so much as caught sight of. It attains a height, most probably, of at least 400 feet. That is a problem worthy the mettle of our most skilful cragsmen. In the Blue John Mine, a vertical fissure has been climbed, by a party properly roped up, to the height of 130 feet, between walls splendidly adorned with polished and translucent stalagmite. Ladders may sometimes be rigged up, one above another, to reach hollows in the roof of caves. In this way a handsome grotto was discovered above Peak Cavern. When these vertical fissures are open to the sky, it is a simple matter to fix tackle, and even a windlass, for letting men down. When they open in the floor of a well-nigh impracticable gallery, as in the Eastwater Cavern, the difficulties of securing pulleys and ropes are serious. There our troubles are aggravated by the proximity of deep, gaping chasms at the foot of each pitch, lying in wait to receive falling bodies. Nevertheless, by an ingenious arrangement of life-line and pulley, the entire party gets safely to the bottom of the gulf and back again, although it is usual in such situations to leave a sentry behind at the top. Grandest of all these underground cavities in England is the great chamber of Lamb's Lair, in the Mendips. The approaches and subsidiary chambers of that marvellous cavern are magnificent in the richness of their incrustation and their colouring; but this mighty hall surpasses the rest by far. Floor, walls, and roof, of a dome-shaped chamber 110 feet high, are a mass of sculptured transparencies, fantastic reliefs and glowing enamel, all the colours of the rainbow being produced by the different veins of minerals. Only a strong party of experienced climbers or cave workers, fully equipped, should venture to explore this fine cavern in its present dangerous state.

No chapters in _Les Abîmes_ are more absorbing than those describing the exploration of underground waters. By means of collapsible boats, M. Martel explored the concealed streams that tumble into the canyon of the Ardèche. In 1890-91, M. Mazauric, with enormous toil and considerable danger, traced out the labyrinthine ramifications of the Bonheur at Bramabiau (Gard). The Tindoul de la Vayssière (Aveyron), with its yawning abyss and powerful subterranean torrent, and the Causse de Gramat (Padirac), both entailed the descent of a deep chasm and the navigation of large streams. At Padirac the exploring party made their way in four boats along a river, with frequent portages caused by dykes of stalagmite, and discovered some of the most exquisite and romantic stalactite scenery in the vaults through which the river flows.

As a sport, cave exploring ranks high. The exertion it entails is exceedingly severe. The innumerable obstacles and difficult problems to be faced make incessant demands on our inventiveness, adaptability, and presence of mind. The exposure, the hardships, the dangers that must be encountered, form an admirable discipline. Those who consider these any detraction from the merits of the sport, must condemn, not one sport, but a whole class. Running risks, we must remember, is always foolhardy, but to nullify danger by means of science and skill is an aim worthy of the noblest kinds of sport. It will, of course, be objected that the lack of exhilarating conditions, and of the stimulus of fresh air, deprives the sport of the usual benefits of outdoor games. But the air at the bottom of a cave 100 or more feet deep is usually as pure and sweet, and not seldom as dry, owing to its free circulation, as that on the hills. Then the darkness and the sense of imprisonment, you say, are not conducive to healthy enjoyment. But a cave explorer, enthralled by the manifold interest and excitement of the pastime, will never admit this. The variety of entertainment it affords constitutes a peculiar charm.

Only to judge by the number of climbers that have taken up cave work as a pastime, there must obviously be a natural relation between this sport and rock climbing. Certainly, there are many methods common to the two sports, and the expert cragsman has an immense advantage over others when he takes to cave exploring. But the methods and appliances of the mountaineer are restricted by artificial regulations. There are many things that must not be done, even to enable a climber to ascend an otherwise inaccessible peak or to avoid serious peril. In cave work, on the other hand, the difficulties and dangers are multiplied so formidably by the singular conditions, of which darkness is but one, that such prohibitions would be absurd. When one may be called upon to climb a wall of mud, or a sheet of slippery stalagmite, or to traverse water-swept rocks with an unfathomed pool or swallet underneath, every safeguard must needs be utilised. Any mechanical means of accomplishing, facilitating, or expediting a passage is legitimate in cave work; ropes, pulleys, ladders of rope and wood, windlass, rafts, boats, crowbar, pick, shovel--all these, and an enormous variety of other things, have their place in the cave explorer's equipment.

One might write a volume on the equipment of cave explorers. Hardly any other sport requires so formidable a variety. I must limit myself to a few words. The explorer's dress should be a boiler suit, made all in one piece from neck to heel, and with no pockets or buttons to catch in the jagged Limestone, plenty of both being provided inside. He must renounce any hankering after waterproof garments, the proper precaution against the effects of wet being to wear thick woollen underclothing. His boots should be nailed after the manner of those worn by rock climbers. Candles are the best illuminant, much better than any lamp--acetylene, electric, or other. But a supply of magnesium wire should be carried, with waterproofed matches in water-tight boxes; and a powerful limelight, burning ether instead of hydrogen, for the sake of portability, is a useful auxiliary. Boats have been used in some of the caves in the Peak, in Wookey Hole, and in the cavern of Marble Arch, explored by M. Martel, in Ireland. Plenty of rope--not of the Alpine Club material, but hempen--is necessary, and a few rope ladders often come in handy. The only rule of the game that I should like to insist upon is, that no damage should be done to the beautiful features of a cave. It is a rule observed by every cave explorer worthy of the name. The temptation to acquire specimens must be resisted.

The first thing that the cave explorer, eager for discovery, has to learn, is not to lose himself. In many cases no special precautions are necessary, but if there are numerous bifurcations, specific measures must be adopted. Often it is sufficient to station a hurricane lamp or a good-sized candle at the cross roads; a surer method, but one that is rather troublesome, is to unreel a thread as we advance. Such a cavern as Goatchurch, in Burrington Combe, Somerset, is a perplexing maze, where one loses one's bearings completely two minutes after looking at the compass. The mass of the hill is shivered into innumerable fragments, of giant size. Passages striking off along the fractures often lead one back imperceptibly to the point of divergence. At the Eastwater Cavern, in the same district, after I had already gone four times through the enormous aggregation of shattered rocks at the top, where a human body is like a beetle in a heap of macadam, I tried in vain to make my way out without using the life-line. Although there is but 100 feet of it, one takes half an hour to get through. The original explorers spent a much longer time in discovering a practicable route. For my own part, I was lost in a few moments, and compelled to return. The imprudence of two men in the Bagshawe Cavern, in Derbyshire, who went too far in advance in their anxiety to be discoverers, led to an uncomfortable experience both for them and for their rescuers. This very extensive cavern has a number of ramifications. The two men who were following reached a distant and unexplored part of the cave, only to find that they had missed their comrades, the sand and clay on the cave floor being still perfectly smooth and untrodden. They failed to discover the wanderers in the neighbouring passages, and lost their own way for a time before they got back, through the winding tunnels, low-roofed fissures, and deep canals, crawling, scrambling, and wading breast-deep through icy water, to the place where they had parted. They hoped the truants had found their way back, but there was no sign of them, and preparations had to be made for a second journey. After a fatiguing quest, that lasted several hours, they found the missing adventurers in a remote part of the cavern, nursing their last shred of candle and waiting to be rescued. The experiences of some youthful explorers in Wookey Hole, who found themselves on dangerous ground and all their matches gone, are described on another page.

There is a romance about cave exploring that is almost unrivalled. The conditions of the sport are so weird and exciting, so strangely different from everything we are accustomed to. To be so near to, and yet so far from, the scenes of our everyday life; to be launched on a voyage of discovery on an English river, or to be the first to gaze on some miracle of fantastic crystallisation only a few miles away from a large town--these are among the attractions of the sport, at least in its present stage. There is nothing in this country to compare with the prodigious caves of Kentucky or the terrific subterranean defiles of Adelsberg. One might as well look for the magnificence of the Alps among our English mountains. Yet the caves and gulfs of Derbyshire and Yorkshire have a grandeur of structure and diversity of character, and the Somerset caves a brilliance of crystalline deposits, that are fully as admirable and impressive.

E. A. B.

EXPLORING WOOKEY HOLE

"Where Albion's western hills slope to the sea,
There is a cave, and o'er its dismal mouth,
Whence come to quick, mysterious ears hoarse sounds
Of giant revelry, the ivy grew
And shut the old sepulchral darkness in;
And by its side a well, whence ever full
And ever overflowing, silent, deep,
And cold as death, the waters creep
Adown the broken rocks in search of day.
Above it frowns a fretted, stony brow,
And only from the setting sun e'er came
Within that place the joyfulness of light."

W. W. SMITH, _Angels and Men_: a Poem.

Hardly anywhere else in Britain is the mind borne down with such a sense of incalculable antiquity as at Wookey Hole. Nowhere, certainly, is there anything like such a continuous record from ages inconceivably remote. To touch first of all upon periods that are historical and measurable, we have the name Wookey, which appears to be the one bestowed by the ancient Britons; for it is a recognisable corruption--especially as the people of the district sound it, "Ookey"--of the Celtic Ogo, a cavern, the same word, Ogof, as the modern Welsh still apply to several caves in the Principality. Clemens Alexandrinus, in the second century A.D., has a reference to the cavern, and there are periodical allusions in Latin and English writers from that time to the present. In the Middle Ages its fame as one of the wonders of England was great. William of Worcester has a quaint description; he says, "Its entrance is narrow, and the ymage of a man stands beside it called the Porter, of whom leave to enter the Hall of Wokey is to be obtained." What became of this janitor is now unknown, unless he be represented by the recumbent monolith still to be seen outside the portal. References to the antiquities of Wookey Hole occur in Leland's _Itinerary_ and in Camden's _Britannia_, and there is incorporated in Percy's _Reliques_ a ballad, by an eighteenth-century virtuoso, Dr. Harrington of Bath, entitled "The Witch of Wokey," recounting an old legend of the neighbourhood.

"In aunciente dayes, tradition showes,
A base and wicked elfe arose
The Witch of Wokey hight."

So it begins, and goes on to relate, in the sham antique style of the day, how a malevolent old woman was for her misdeeds changed to stone by a "lerned clerk of Glaston." The Witch, a black, aquiline profile in stone and stalagmite, is with her culinary utensils the chief attraction to sightseers in the first great chamber, or, as it is sometimes called, the Witch's Kitchen.

_Photo by H. E. Balch._]

_Photo by H. E. Balch._]

It is impressive enough to stand beside the very modern-looking paper-mill, where the infant Axe, still dazzled by its sudden entry into the sunlight, is harnessed to assist in the manufacture of such workaday commodities as Bank-note paper, and to see before one things that carry the memory back all those stages; yet it is but the last few pages of the voluminous history that we are considering now. Professor Boyd Dawkins, who won his spurs as a palæontologist by his researches at Wookey Hole, discovered in the neighbouring Hyæna Den, which is really a branch of the old cavern, human and animal remains whose antiquity, compared with the periods just reviewed, is as the age of Stonehenge compared with that of a man. In the less known passages of the Hole itself, such relics have constantly been found in the course of our investigations. Potsherds, celts, bone implements, the carbonised embers from ancient hearths, all sorts of refuse lying in odd corners, have continually brought us, as it were, face to face with the time when man was little more than the king of beasts. Whosoever would read in the deeper chapters of this vast chronicle must be referred to the fascinating pages of _Cave Hunting_; there will be only an occasional glance at the human history in this record of a different class of exploration. Palæontological research has not been our object. Several of my companions have made some valuable discoveries in this line, and are intent on making more; but my own original motive, and that of several others, was the sport, as much as the scientific results, to be enjoyed in endeavouring to work out the great problem of the waters that have made themselves a road through the underworld of Mendip, and found an escape from bondage at Wookey Hole. This cavern has been known so long and so familiarly, that it must have seemed as if there were nothing more to be found out about it. It will, surely, be a surprise to many to learn what important additions have recently been made to the extent of its known and accessible passages, and what progress there has been in explaining the secrets of its water system. We are, in all probability, on the brink of yet more startling revelations.

Drayton complained, in "Polyolbion," that the renown of the Devil's Hole in the Peak of Derbyshire, then as in the present day, had robbed the Somersetshire cave of some of its glory.

"Yet Ochy's dreadful Hole still held herself disgrac'd
With th' wonders of this Isle that she should not be plac'd:
But that which vex'd her most, was that the Peakish Cave
Before her darksome self such dignity should have."

Many things here bring to mind the Derbyshire cavern, which several of our party had explored pretty thoroughly before we did any serious work in Somerset--the approach along the deep wooded ravine cut through the Dolomitic Conglomerate, the river pouring out from vast reservoirs within the earth, the legendary associations, and the mystery shrouding the stream's subterranean course. From the drainage area about Priddy, 700 feet above, on the top of Mendip, these waters find their way down through a multitude of channels. Most of these passages are quite unknown, but the two most important, of which a good deal will be said presently,--the Eastwater Swallet and Swildon's Hole,--have been explored to a considerable depth. In the latter we have got to a depth of 300 feet, but natural obstacles and other difficulties have prevented us from following the stream-course farther. Mr. Balch has traced the Eastwater Swallet, which he opened in 1902, to the depth of 500 feet below the point of absorption--almost, that is to say, down to the level of Wookey Hole; but an enormous thickness of rock still remains unexplored between the farthest points attained, from below upwards and from above downwards. Most likely, when we get farther, if we succeed in passing the present obstacles, we shall soon find ourselves entering the canals and water caverns that lie on the same level as the great natural reservoirs of Wookey Hole; in other words, we are approaching the plane of saturation. Exploration in the Eastwater Swallet is still being carried on, though perforce very slowly; and concurrently therewith, efforts are being made, not without success, to trace the passages in the lower cavern farther and farther back.

_Photo by H. E. Balch._]

_Photo by Bamforth, Holmfirth._]

The summer tourist, conducted through the three principal chambers of Wookey Hole by a guide armed with a can of benzoline, for making stalagmites into torches, comes out having a very imperfect knowledge of the geography of the cavern, and a totally inadequate idea of its beauties. I well remember how little I was impressed by my first visit, under these conditions, many years ago. The weak illumination seemed to reveal only the proportions of some rather large cellars, pervaded by oily pools, into which the contents of the can were poured and set on fire, producing an unearthly glare through the darkness and the waters; and a number of dingy and unconvincing natural effigies, black with the accumulation of soot. Our exploring party in March 1903 saw these things under an illumination such as had never been kindled there before, and I for one was quite unprepared for the revelation of brilliance and spaciousness and beauty that we were to witness.

"Wokey Hole," says Bishop Percy, "has given birth to as many wild, fanciful stories as the Sybil's (sic) Cave in Italy. Through a very narrow entrance it opens into a large vault, the roof whereof, either on account of its height or the thickness of the gloom, cannot be discovered by the light of torches. It goes winding a great way underground, is crost by a stream of very cold water, and is all horrid with broken pieces of rock: many of these are evident petrifactions, which, on account of their singular forms, have given rise to the fables alluded to in this poem," the story, that is, of the blear-eyed hag who was turned into stone. This quaint description is true in every particular. The first cavern, or the "Witch's Kitchen," has a weird similitude to Gothic architecture. Arch springs from arch up to the lofty summit, and the walls and vaulting are full of canopied recesses, with wild foliations of glistening calcite wreathed from niche to niche.

Below us, as we enter, a broad deep pool stretches away into darkness. Could we follow the gently moving current in a boat, we should enter another great vault, whose existence the ordinary visitor never suspects. There, in a small passage beyond the water, Mr. Balch discovered human remains. Whilst we peered into the gloom, the limelight was burning up, and now it flashed across the cavern to where the black scowling head of the Witch overshadows terraces, basins, and wild imageries of spectral stalagmite.

"A glow! a gleam!
A broader beam
Startles those realms of endless night,
While bats whirl round on slanting wing,
Astonished at this awful thing.
The rocky roof's reflected rays
Are caught up in the waterways,
And every jewelled stalactite
Is bathed in that stupendous light,
One moment only; then the caves
Are plunged again in Stygian waves;
The fairy dream has passed away
And night resumes her ancient sway."

The Vicar of Whiteparish, near Salisbury, wrote these expressive lines after seeing Wookey Hole lighted up with magnesium. Our beam of light was less transitory, and gave us ample leisure to contemplate the glories of this magnificent chamber. Its walls for the most part are coloured a rich red, which absorbs light readily and makes photography a slow business. The first exposure took half an hour. Against the warm red, the pearly streaks of stalactite and stalagmite shine in exquisite relief. There is a superb mass of stalactite near the Witch; to say truth, the eye is confounded by the wild grouping of fantastic piles of dripstone around that uncouth head; the colours of the rocks and the flashing crystallisations are reflected in the pellucid water, and confused again with our glimpses of the river-bed, smitten by the moving shaft of light. On the nearer side of the cave, where a narrow arch leads into an incrusted grotto, a gentle stream has deposited a fairy-like series of fonts and stoups, ending in a pure white sheet of dripstone, over which the water murmurs. The surface of all these fabrications is diapered over with a network of delicate pearly ridges; so that here you see a mass, as it were, of polished brain coral, and there madrepores and alcyonaria, where the deposits have continued their growth under water. Some of these efflorescences are like petrified filaments of water weed. The foul scurf and soot that covers the Witch's cooking apparatus and other accessories would, doubtless, disappear under a fresh deposit of pristine white, would the guides but cease for a twelvemonth to drench them in benzoline, for the delectation of such as love conundrums in stone. Still, these things are but a small part of the scenery, when all is lighted up as we were able to light it. Our work done, a Bengal fire was set off, and the glimpses it gave us along the waterway to the inaccessible chamber beyond added vastness and mystery to the scene.

_Photo by H. E. Balch._]

_Photo by Dawkes & Partridge, Wells._]

The next chamber is a loftier vault, and the arching is more decidedly Gothic in its suggestiveness. Two low arches at either side form the portals, far above which a series of pointed arches spring to a height of 70 feet, their summits converging in a polygonal cleft, like the lantern of some cathedral dome. Then we make our way across the sandbanks, between the pools, into the largest chamber of all, with a roof of enormous span, whose breadth dwarfs its height, arching over the sleeping river and the broad slopes of sand, whereon grotesque Limestone monoliths take the likeness of prehistoric monsters sleeping by the waterside. Through the clear water we can discern a submerged arch communicating with more distant caverns. There is a tradition, coming down from the mediæval historians, that unfathomable lakes lie behind the barrier. This is probably true in so far as it points to the existence of enormous reservoirs of water beyond the accessible parts of Wookey Hole, the theory being confirmed by the behaviour of the silt at flood time. Were the hatches belonging to the paper-mill opened, and the water lowered a few feet, an attempt might be made to solve these problems. Mr. Balch did, in fact, at a time when the water was partially lowered, make his way into two unexplored chambers, fed by tunnels submerged a foot or so below the surface.

_Photo by Dawkes & Partridge, Wells._]

_Photo by Dawkes & Partridge, Wells._]

The older and the newer caves and passages of Wookey Hole lie at five levels, one above the other like five storeys, the topmost of all representing the oldest channel of the subterranean Axe, which has in the course of ages forsaken first one and then the other, boring fresh passages in the Conglomerate. Of these five storeys, one alone, the nethermost, is known to the uninitiated visitor. Portions of the other four had been explored from time to time by Mr. Balch, who in 1903 made such discoveries of unknown continuations as fill us with hopes of penetrating deeply into the mysterious region beyond. Climbing into the Upper Series from a spot near the threshold of the Witch's Kitchen, we made our way eastward over dry rocks, and came speedily to the junction with another passage from nearer the cave mouth. Only a thin leaf of rock separates the two, for it is characteristic of all these upper passages that they run almost parallel to each other whilst rising to other levels. Altogether, we doubled back on our original direction three or four times, creeping through holes in the walls partitioning the corridors, and ascending to the top of several lofty bridges, formed by fragments that have fallen from roof and walls and wedged themselves securely. The construction of these bridges is often marvellous to see. In one case a number of rocks form an irregular arch, at the top of which a keystone wedges the whole cluster together. Obviously they must have fallen and come together practically at the same instant. This was what happened hard by with two great boulders that fell down the rift and caught each other in mid-air. Another impressive natural structure is known to explorers of Wookey Hole as the Spur and the Wedge. The huge horizontal peak of Limestone projecting into the chasm brings to mind a famous passage in Mr. Rider Haggard's _She_. This spot was the scene of a droll adventure that befell one of my companions years ago. With several other boys, he wandered into these passages, when suddenly the one candle they had with them went out. A boy had been commissioned to bring a supply of matches, but it was ascertained that he had only one left, which on being struck promptly went out. In this emergency, the lads could do nothing but sit still until help arrived. They had no food, and in trying to feel the time, they broke the hands of the only watch. They computed that they had been in durance three days when the rescue party reached the spot, but the protracted and hungry period of waiting turned out to be only eight hours. Their resting-place was the flat back of the pinnacle, with a 60-foot drop on one side and jagged rocks on the other.

In two places in these galleries there are fine displays of stalagmite on the wall, in the form of corrugated sheets, the ridges of which, stained red with ferrous deposits, hang straight down like a series of organ pipes. The walls glisten here and there with minute crystals. But the most striking sight is where the Dolomitic Conglomerate, of which the walls are composed, appears in clean-cut sections. One of these, which has been successfully photographed, shows the differently coloured pebbles, chiefly Mountain Limestone with a few of Old Red Sandstone, embedded in the matrix, and surrounded with distinct layers of cement, all as brilliantly defined as the concentric rings of an agate. Hard by is a corner where Mr. Balch discovered the bones of a man; they were mineralised, but it was impossible to tell their period, or even whether they represented an interment, or were merely the remains of some wanderer from his tribe who had perished in this forlorn spot.

Sleeping bats hung from many a coign, and would not be awakened even when lifted down. Big cave spiders crawled over the walls in the parts adjoining the open air, where the breeze found its way in, although we could not see through the narrowing crevices. Here and there the cocoons of the spiders hung from the roof in white, woolly balls. At the farthest point reached was a settlement of jackdaws, with a number of untidy-looking nests, and there we could hear a thrush singing in the trees outside; for we were close to the main cliff, and the river was flowing out beneath our feet, under a great thickness of rock.

_Photo by H. E. Balch._]

_Photo by Claude Blee._]