The Warning Cries in Mammoth Cave.
A few days since, a company, seventy in number, each carrying a staff for support, and a lamp to give light, started to explore the long route in this wonderful cavern. A faithful, experienced guide to lead the way, and another to see that none lagged or wandered into dangerous by-ways, gave us a feeling of security. When entering upon the more fearful parts, our track, at times a narrow path on the edge of yawning chasms, the cry from the guide in front would come with echoing peal, “Dreadful pit to the right of you! Watch where you put your feet, and send the warning words along the line.” The words were fairly shouted to those in the rear, and every foot was placed more carefully, and every staff more firmly, as a strong light from the magnesian wire was thrown into the fearful abyss. A few rods of apparent security, and then a louder cry, “Bottomless pit to the left of you, and the path very slippery.” Were the warnings from pulpit and press, of the pit-falls in our great cities, as well heeded as were these, fewer steps would slide toward the pit, and fewer lights go out to leave the traveler in the darkness of despair. Along one labyrinth, a strong iron rail was placed, and, at the head of a fearful descent, the guide stood and gave a helping hand to each, giving directions about a narrow bridge at the foot of the stairs, and telling us to wait in the open space beyond until he could again take the lead. A loud call, warning of the dangers of the Dead Sea, soon followed, and then, “Low heads through the Vale of Humility,” and taking the stooping posture of the guide, we saved our poor heads from painful contact with overhanging rocks. Soon we gathered at the river and waited our turn to be ferried to the other shore. “Hold fast to the rocks, there are quicksands below,” and we clung for life. As we entered the boat, we heard the orders, “Be steady! Keep still! the water is deep, and the way is dark.” Now the echo of the music from a band in a distant hall suggested the melody of the better land. Our feeble lights threw no radiance on the hills beyond, but we had implicit trust in our guide, and we were soon an unbroken band, resting beneath a great dome, whose roof sparkled with the stony stars and flowers made by God's secret chemistry in this dark chamber of the earth. What an epitome, thought I, as I there meditated, has this journey been of the whole of human life. Dangers on every side, escaped by trusting and obeying our guide, and keeping our lamps trimmed and burning to give light to our feet. There is a never-erring never-wearying Guide for our life journey, and in his written directions he has pointed out the pit-falls and quicksands, and calls with tenderness, “Hear, O my son; enter not into the path of the wicked, for their way is as darkness; they know not at what they stumble.” To those who keep in the path of the just, he gives the shining light, and says, “I will keep thee in all places whither thou goest.” “Do footsteps seem to glide? Then only raise
Thine eye to Me, and in the slippery ways
I will hold up thy goings.
Trust my all-seeing care, and thou shalt find
A never failing Guide.”