the bottom, and six feet above the water at the center. The bed of the
stream is eroded from strata of sandstone that is extremely hard,
containing corundum, and so perfect is its continuity that it conveys
sound distinctly for a distance far beyond the reach of the human voice,
when tapped upon with a hammer. The top of the arch is studded with
lovely stalactites, clear as glass, that extend to the outer edge of the
arch and form massive and beautiful groups there. Above the arch is a
large opening. In truth the side of the room is out, and a great dark
space appears like a curtain of black. A natural path leads up over one
side of the arch, and following the lead of the guide you go up above
and learn that a room on the higher level extends off in that direction
and gets larger and higher. The walls are stalagmitic columns in cream
color and decked in places with blood-red spots or blotches of Titanic
size. The ceiling you cannot see. It is too high for the lights you have
to reach. On the left you are suddenly confronted by a stalagmitic
formation so large and so grand that all others are dwarfed into
insignificance. You think of the dome of the Capitol at Washington. You
are standing at the sloping base but cannot see the top. Just here the
guide announces in an awestruck voice 'Blondy's Throne.' And who is
Blondy? Only a fair-haired, blue-eyed, intrepid and daring
fifteen-year-old boy, named Charles Smallwood, who assisted the writer
in exploring the cave in the early days of 1883, and going on in
advance, reported back that he had found another and a greater throne
than the Great White Throne in the Auditorium.

[Illustration: Blondy's Throne. Page 47.]

"Well, here we are at Blondy's Throne at last, and surveying the base,
we find that it is actually only half in the room we are in; the other
half forms the side of another room. In a word, the Great Throne divides