The feeble light projected by our four candles in these gloomy yet
majestic chambers was not so feeble as to obscure the insignificant
names of hundreds of individuals scrawled here and there. The great
German philosopher Schopenhauer is at pains philosophically to explain
the foolish propensity of travellers to perpetuate their names, or as it
so seems to them. The Pyramids or Kentucky Caves do not impress their
minds at all, but to see their own illustrious names John Brown and Tom
Smith cut upon them, does seem a very interesting and important fact.
The bones of the Cave bear and other gigantic animals have been formed
here; but the principal tenants of these antique vaults are now the
bats, forming huge black clusters in the roof. There is something eerie
in their cries, but they are more alarmed than alarming; the lights
disturbing them not a little.
Pleasant after even this short adventure into the regions of the
nether-world, was the return to sunshine, green trees, the children, and
the tea-pot! After calling it into requisition, we set off homewards,
reaching Besancon just as the moon made its appearance, a large silver
disc above the purple hills; and the next day, good luck still following
us, we had a drive and pic-nic in the opposite direction, this time with
a less ambitious programme.
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