A VISIT TO ONE OF THE QUEEREST PLACES IN THE WORLD.

Otago Witness, Issue 2244, 4 March 1897, Page 49

A VISIT TO ONE OF THE QUEEREST PLACES IN THE WORLD.

The Grotto of the Dragon. Its name is Manaco; — the Grotto of the Dragon — acd it is without any doubt t'xe most wonderful cavern on earth -or vndor

it. Its opening, a rather small and narrow oae, yawns in a certain rocky wilderness of the Island of Majorca in the Mediterranean, and the men who have explored it might be counted on the ringers of one hand. | I was staying on the island about this time last year, and then I heard about the great cavern. It was a pity to die without seeing this underground marvel, I was told; and even the weird spirits whioh are said to frequent the grotto were worth braving for the sake of viewing the magnificent inner chambers of the place. So I engaged a courtly, leather-skinned old S Danish guide, who rejoiced in the name of Garcia, and we rode to the cavern's front door on a couple of dejected-looking mule*. THE GROTTO'S MOUTH showed dimly on the face of a buahy rock, and wore the murky, forbidding look of an underground railway tunnel. It didn't look inviting, and I told the guide my opinion of it. He admitted that the first part of the journey was notaing to enthuse about-. It would be unpleasant, dangerous, he said, bat if the senor didn't mind tome inconvenience he would find it worth while to go on. We had brought with us a couple of long sticks, abundant provender, and some very fiery spirit in a hollow gourd. There wa3 enough food for three days — in case we lost our way inside the carth — and we felt confident. W« tethered the mules, lighted a big torch, and bngau the long crawl through the din cry tunnel. Soon we left the outer day behind us, and I became impressed with a sort of heavy leaden feeling. The walls of the tunnel were dripping and oczj, reflecting the torchlight with a sickly depressing glittar. A big colony of squealing bate, iudignant at being disturbed so early, whizzed up and down like dusky little blurred imps, sometimes brushing our faces, and even patting out the torch. Garcia began to solemnly execrate themina hushed undertone, but they crowded thicker and thicker. Oa we crept through a dense concoction of bats, darkness, and slime — siime, bats, and darkness). My clothes ware drenched with dripping water, and coaled with' the clammy ooze that sweated from the walls. It was a weird walk, punctuated now and then by a fall over a loose rock, and much barking of shins against projecting ridges. I was beginning to wish I had stayed in the outer world, when suddenly the tunnel widened — widened still — and at last we broke out into the first of the great open halls. I forgot the bate, the gloom, and the long, back-straining, stumble through the dark rat-hole ; I coald only stand and gasp. We stood in A HUGE AIRY CHAMBEH, walled with wonderfully shaped terraces, and studded with scarped and taaselled pillars. The dazzling gleam was absolutely stupefying ; 10,000 Koh-i-noors would not have equalled it. A million tiny points of scintillating coloured light flashed from the walla as Garcia waved the smoky torch. Hago stalactites— icicles of glittering stone — hung from the roof, and under each a stalagmite — the same kind of icicle, but sprouting upwards from the floor — stretched to meet it. | Scores of the twin-growths had lengthened, till they joined in a gloriouß pillar of gleaming crystal, and the pillars were carved by the slow water into tree roots, fluted like Greek columns, or scarped like the trunks of the palms that grow on the island. These crystal icicles were the deposit left by the dripping water from the roof, and the stalagmites were the same deposit, which gathered where the drops fell. j Thoße pillara were not "the work of a moment," as the shilling shockers say. They took some little time to form— Booo or 9000 | years at the very least. Stalactites such as those of Manacor lengthen about an inch in 200 year?. To a stalactite, which hag nothing better to do, it is well worth a 10,000-year wait to arrive at such a climax of magnificence. Round the great chamber ran mazy, banisttered = terraces, fashioned of the same delicate crystal and porcelain stone. Pulpits, cathedral aisles, and figures that looked strangely like human statues dotted the expanse to right and left. Garcia took his torch and walked in and out cf the queer underground city, while I stood and watcbed the effects. Every step of the guide, every movement of the torch, threw some new, strange light or shadow into the misty aisles ; and the rapid, flashing change of a million coloured points of fire was simply blinding. Garcia showed me two or three chambers in the rock which were DRY AND COSY enough compared with the watery grotlo; and here, he said, an ancient race of Majorca Islanders had once lived and housed, emerging into the daylight for food and drink. We made a halt in one of these cavern", and lanched amid the dust of men who had lived and f ought in the dim morning of the world. Lunch over, we pushed on to the Grand Chamber of the Grotto, the most wonderful of all. A dark, still lake, some 200 yards long, lay in the centre, motionless, without a ripple. The waters looked deathly grim and black, and a pebble thrown in fell with a hollow " plunk " that hinted of fearful depths below. It was the climax of the journey, Garcia said, to swim across the lake to the other side, and he pressed his argument with so much force that I decided that I might as well undergo the experience, so I stripped and plunged in, Garcia holding the torch above his head. The first sensation was a piercing, steely i cold that seemed to shoot into my very brain. It was by far the chilliest water I had ever touched — evea the glacier-fed Rhone above Villeneuve is warm in comparison. I struck out swiftly, wishing to reach the other side as quickly as possible and to escape from the icy grip of the lake. But as I looked down into the inky waters I saw a dim, white shadow floating upwards. It was a lake fish, about the size of a large jack, but of a foul, flabby, cream colour, and in place of eyes a pair of dark dots stood out from its great, blunt head. It came straight up to me, and, as I kicked out at it in strong disgust, disappeared with a flick of its broad tail into the depths again. I wsts jastnearing the other side when a misImp occurred. A splash behind me, a hissipg sound, and a second tater I v»s swimrciDg in utter darkness.

| " What in it, GarcK ?" I shout-.er 7 I "May the senor forgive me," ac called back, " but I have dropped the torch into the lake, and 1 have no other here. Swim straight on, land on the farther side, and I will go back to the mules for a fresh one." £ scrambled ashore somehow, scrapping away much of my hide against the sharp stalagmites, and sat down to wait and shiver. The darkness was almost solid, and the sound of Garcia'd retreating footsteps rang weirdly through the hollow, icy chambers. I began to reflect. What if he should lose his way in the dark? He knew the cavern well, certainly, but surely I was in a tight place if anything happened to him. Ac last the footfalls died away, and A GRIM, GHOSTLY SILENCE settled down. The chill water had numbed me, and my teeth ohaitered like a threshing machine. It must have been half an hour before a faint glimmer shone down one of the fluted aisles, and gradually increased until Garcia hove in sight. I began to breathe a little more freely, for I was wondering whether I had come to stay. Garcia lighted two more torches, and I swam back to the old »hore and began to dress. The guide was deeply, almost tearfully; apologetic, but I was too glad to escape to say much about his stupidity. " And now I have something to show the aenor whioh is almost unknown," said the old guide. "It is the deepest chasm in the world — the Abode of Matiy Devils." . * We traversed a fresh tunnel, even slimier and darker than the entrance passage, but not quite > so long. At the end we came to another open chamber, which showed none of the brilliant effects of the stalactite halls. It was black and gloomy, jagged round the sides with iugged, ucowling boulders, and not a gleam of light or crystal reflection was thrown back from any point. Near one oorner of the place yawned a black, forbidding chasm, about SOjds square, ragged and broken at ita edge*. A more gruesome spot was not conceivable tban this gaping deathtrap bidden under the living world. A movement of the foot, a dislodged p«bble, or any other slight sound was magnified tenfold, and echoed back and forth in the jaws of the great abyss with a ohuddery, creepy effect. " ?anoy stepping over the edge of that horror in the dark 1 " I muttered to myself. " Dark- -dark— dark— dark — dark ! " whispered back the obasm. " Dark — dark — dark " it echoed round the black walls. Old Garcia shuddered. •' How deep is it 1 " I asked him. "It has no end, senor," he replied, with a shiver. "Jt goes even through the world." I walked round the place three or four times, every footfall sounding with an echoing ring. The ground irself seemed HOLLOtV TO THE TREAD, and l h* rock w*s of a c umoly wobbly ua> ur<&. X searched about for something ho g&age the depth with, .k sounding-line, of cour»e, was out of the question. I had a long line with me, but it would naturally fall far short I of the bottom of that awful abyss. A handful I of pobo'ej thrown over the side told me j nothing, 'they merely rattled a^aintt the ■ sides and disappeared. I knew the chasm mxist be deep, though I could not agrew with ' Garcia that it penetrated the earth from I side to side. [ We searched round, and found a largo | jugged boulder, weighing- probably about 2001b Between us we dragged it to the i edge of tho precipice, cleared away the I pebbles, and prepared to hoist it over the side. Obviously it would find the bottom, however far below that might be. At a signal from me wo bent down and cast the rock over The first rumble of the grinding boulder agalnut the side died away, and we stood and listened, scarcely breathing for some time. As the seconds scurtied by, and the silence was unbroken, a weird, creepy feeling stole over me, increasing as the time increased. Could Garcia have been right, I wondered 2 Surely the terrific concussion of suoh a nwsa of rock wonld make itself heard at any distance almost I " You gee, senor," said the old guide, .with a shrug, " I told you there was no bottom." I had begun to give up all hope of hearing the boulder's fall, when from the great chasm a far-away, whispering splash sounded, echoing on and on until the whole chamber filled with a muffled, sonorous boom. I shuddered, and I felt that Garcia shuddered. The depth of that ghastly abyss must be beyond measurement. Again we trod back through the dripping passage and the glorious ice palaces 'to the dark entrance hole, and finally crawled once more into the light of day, half-blind, slimedaubed, but happy. > No other sight, nor any adventure by land or sea, has ever blotted from my mind a Bin gla memory of that weird journey into the bowels of the earth. — Answers.