The Jenolan Caves.

THE

JENOLAN CAVES:

AN

EXCURSION

IN

AUSTRALIAN WONDERLAND.

By SAMUEL COOK.

ILLUSTRATED WITH TWENTY-FOUR PLATES AND MAP.

EYRE & SPOTTISWOODE,

Her Majesty's Printers:

LONDON—GREAT NEW STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C.

1889.

PREFACE.

THE following historical and descriptive account of the Jenolan (formerly called the Fish River) Caves was written for the Sydney Morning Herald. By the kind permission of the proprietors of that journal (Messrs. John Fairfax and Sons) and, at the request of numerous correspondents, it is now republished. The author is conscious, however, that neither tongue, nor pen, nor pictorial art can convey an adequate idea of the magnificence and exquisite beauty of these caves. Words are too poor to express the feelings of admiration and awe which are experienced by those who wander through the marvellous subterranean galleries embellished with myriads of graceful and fantastic forms of purest white alternating with rich colour and delicate tints and shades. Of all the caves in New South Wales those at Jenolan are the most beautiful, and well-travelled men admit that they are unrivalled in any other part of the world. As they are so little known this book may be interesting, and serve to give some impression concerning geological transformations and the slow processes of Nature in the production of works at once grand, ornate, and unique.

The illustrations are from photographs by Messrs. Kerry and Jones of Sydney, who have generously permitted the author to make selections from their beautiful and extensive series of cave pictures.

CONTENTS.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

The Jenolan Caves.

CHAPTER I.

HOW THE CAVES WERE DISCOVERED.

The Jenolan Caves contain some of the most remarkable and beautiful objects in Australian wonderland. They are formed in a limestone "dyke," surrounded by magnificent scenery, and hide in their dark recesses natural phenomena of rare interest to the geologist, as well as of pleasurable contemplation by non-scientific visitors; while in and about them the moralist may find

To see these caves once is to create a lifelong memory. The pink and the white terraces of New Zealand, which before the recent eruptions attracted so many tourists, did not excel in splendour the caves at Jenolan. But it is common for people to go abroad to admire less interesting things than are to be found within easy distance of their starting point, and which, if they were a thousand miles away, would probably be regarded as worthy of a special pilgrimage. There are persons living two or three leagues from the caves who have never seen them, and who, if they embraced the opportunity for inspection, would possibly regard them with the kind of wonder with which they would gaze upon the transformation scene at a pantomime. And yet the most frequent entry in the visitors' book is that the caves are "grand beyond expectation," and in some of their principal features "indescribably beautiful."

The first of these caves was discovered in 1841 by James Whalan, who lived on the Fish River, near what is now the Tarana Railway Station. Having been robbed by a man named McEwan, he accompanied a police officer in search of the desperado, and tracked him to the romantic spot which forms the centre of the cave reserve, where he was captured.

It is possible that some of these caves were known previously to outlaws, who found in them a secure and convenient hiding-place when hotly pursued. But the visit of Whalan on the occasion of the capture of McEwan first brought them into public notice. The name of the bush-ranger is given to the creek which plays an important part in connection with the caves. One of the principal features received its name from the captor, and another—the Bow Cave—is called after some stolen bullock-bows found therein. They were then known as the "Fish River Caves," or as the "Binda Caves." They were called the Fish River Caves because they were in what was then regarded as the "Fish River District," and not very far from the Fish River post-office. They were called the "Binda Caves" after a station about nine miles distant to the northward. And so they were indifferently known until the month of August, 1884, when their designation was officially changed to "Jenolan"—that being the name given by Sir Thomas Mitchell (Surveyor-General of New South Wales) to the mountain from which is named the parish within which the caves are situated.

The change of nomenclature was recommended on the ground that the then existing names were infelicitous and misleading,—the caves being not upon the Fish River, but upon a different watershed, separated from it by the main dividing range of the colony. The time was considered appropriate for remedying the mistake, because a map of the parish of Jenolan was then in course of preparation, and would shortly be lithographed and issued to the public. The official correspondence on this subject discloses the fact that "Binda" was first thought of as a good official name, and then "Bindo;" but the former was found to be the name of a post town between Yass and Goulburn, and the latter the name of a village and a mountain nine miles north of the caves, and, like the Fish River, on the west side of the dividing range.

Some exception was taken to the proposed change. It was urged that the name "Jenolan" was already applied to a mountain in the Capertee district; but to this it was replied that the mountain called "Jenolan," seven or eight miles from the caves in an easterly direction, was marked on Sir Thomas Mitchell's engraved map of the central portion of New South Wales, whilst the other was not so defined—showing precedence in point of time and importance; and, further, that the orthography of the two names is different, the one being spelt "Jenolan" and the other "Geenowlan"—the former being the name of the parish in which the caves are situated, and the latter the name of a peak near Capertee, in the county of Roxburg. So it was finally determined to change the name of the caves to "Jenolan," and in August, 1884, they were gazetted accordingly. Such a change could not have taken place without inconvenience and some misconception. Recently inquiries have been made as to whether the "Jenolan Caves" are newly-discovered wonders, or old friends under a new designation?

For about a quarter of a century after the discovery by Whalan, little notice was taken of the caves. They were regarded by a few who knew about them as remarkable freaks of nature, but allowed to remain unexplored until some of their hidden beauties were so disclosed as to rouse the enthusiasm of the present curator—Mr. Jeremiah Wilson—to whom, for his daring, energy, and patient investigation the public are greatly indebted. When their fame began to be bruited about, the number of visitors increased, and among them were Goths and Vandals who did not scruple to remove many a crystal gem from the still unfathomed caves. It became evident that unless something were promptly done to secure these newly-found treasures to the public, and protect them from ruthless hands, their magnificence would soon be destroyed, and the people deprived of a possession which should be a source of delight and instruction to succeeding generations, and excite the admiration of tourists from all parts of the world. The Government did the right thing when it prevented the acquisition by private individuals of the caves and a large area of land around them. It would have been better had the dedication to the public been made earlier.

The Gazette notice reserving from conditional purchase land about the caves with a view to their preservation, bears date 2nd October, 1866, and has appended to it the signature of the late J. Bowie Wilson, who was then Secretary for Lands in the Martin Ministry. The area specially protected is six and a quarter square miles in the county of Westmoreland, and near to it are some important forest reserves.

The official correspondence from 1866 to the present time is not very interesting, having reference principally to suggested improvements; it is very bulky, and shows that a large amount of official interest has been taken in the subject; but the money expended and the work accomplished indicate that hitherto Government and Parliament have had but a faint idea of their obligations in regard to the Jenolan Caves.

CHAPTER II.

THE APPROACH TO THE CAVES.

There are several routes to the caves. That commonly chosen is by way of Tarana, a small township 120 miles from Sydney by rail, and 2,560 feet above the level of the sea. The train journey is through interesting country. Leaving behind the new western suburbs with their elegant villas, stately mansions, and well-kept gardens, the traveller arrives at Parramatta with its quaint old church, its fine domain with sturdy English oaks of magnificent growth, its glimpses of river, its old King's School, and its many evidences of change from the old to the new.

From Parramatta (which is but 14 miles from Sydney), to Penrith, there are farms, and dark-leaved orange groves sweet-scented and laden with golden fruit; villages and townships and little homesteads where peace and contentment seem to reign; orchards and cultivated fields with rich brown soil on the hill sides; fine horses, splendid cattle, and cottages with troops of sturdy children. At Penrith, 34 miles from Sydney and 88 feet above sea-level, the country is flat, and the Nepean River which flows in graceful contour is spanned by a magnificent iron bridge supported on four massive piers of solid masonry. The train speeds across the Emu plains which are walled in by the Blue Mountains, so-called on account of the azure haze which covers them as with a bridal veil and is to the everlasting hills what the bloom is to the peach. Scaling the mountain side by a zigzag road, which is one of the "show" works of the colony illustrative of engineering audacity, in the course of a few miles the train climbs to an elevation of 700 feet. At Blaxland's platform, 42 miles from Sydney, the altitude is 766 feet above sea-level.

The name of Blaxland recalls the fact that it was not until 1813 that a route across the Blue Mountains was discovered. Near to the railway line is the track found by Wentworth, Blaxland, and Lawson, over what had theretofore been regarded as an impassable barrier range to the westward of Sydney. On speeds the train, still rising and rising, and revealing a series of views remarkable for grandeur and the sylvan monotony of the gum tree, until at Katoomba platform, 66 miles from Sydney, the elevation is 3,350 feet above sea-level. And so the journey continues past abrupt rocks, gloomy gorges, sparkling waterfalls, rocky glens, bold bluffs, leafy gullies, fairy dells and vernal valleys, until it descends the Great Zigzag into Lithgow, falling about 700 feet in less than five miles! Lithgow is 96 miles from Sydney, and although the Blue Mountains have been passed, the altitude is still about 3,000 feet. Lithgow is a busy place, apparently destined to become a manufacturing centre. There are already in the vicinity numerous coal mines, potteries, and other works. From this point to Tarana the country varies from agricultural and pastoral to rugged scenery.

The distance from Tarana to the caves is 35 miles, which has to be traversed by coach or on horseback. At present the ordinary course is to take coach on the arrival of the train at Tarana and drive to Oberon the same evening. The road is good, the district agricultural, and the scenery agreeable. The course from Oberon to the caves is through a less settled country, and for a considerable distance through unsettled primeval "bush," occupied chiefly by the wallaby, the opossum, the bandicoot, many varieties of the parrot kind that flaunt their gaudy plumage in the sunlight, and the native pheasant or lyre bird (Menura superba) which is a veritable mimic. The country is broken and mountainous and in winter the temperature is low, with cutting winds and severe frosts; in summer the heat is fervent. These silent forces in conjunction with brawling mountain torrents have been large factors in the production of the natural phenomena which are to be found in the valley dammed by the limestone "dyke" in which the caves are formed.

The approach to the Jenolan Caves at the end of the route viâ Tarana is remarkable for its construction and gradient, as well as for the magnificent scenery which surrounds it. All the way from Oberon the land rises, until an altitude of 4,365 feet above sea-level is attained. Then there is a gradual downward grade, until what is called "The Top Camp" is reached, shortly after which the traveller arrives at a part of the range which he traverses by five zigzags, and descends about 500 yards in a total length of road five chains less than three miles! This thoroughfare is made by cutting into the mountain side; and although with a well-appointed conveyance and careful driving it is safe enough, inexperienced travellers feel a sense of relief when the journey is concluded, and they are set down at the Cave House below, which, notwithstanding that it is in the lowest depth of a mountain recess, is still nearly 2,500 feet above sea-level. Any feeling of nervousness, however, is superseded by a sense of the grandeur of the view. If an occasional glance is given at the steep declivity, and a thought occurs as to what would be the consequence of a mishap, the attention is immediately diverted to some new magnificence in the wildly beautiful panorama, the sight of which alone would almost compensate for so long a journey.

On the return trip, when portly gentlemen ascend on foot this very steep zigzag they pause occasionally to contemplate the beauties of nature and estimate the advantages of pedestrian exercise. Perhaps, also, when they have made the same observation two or three times, they begin to think it possible to carry pedestrian exercise to excess, and that a wire tramway would be convenient. Still, at a second or third glance, they get an excellent idea of the course of the limestone ridge, and a better understanding of the operations of Nature in the excavation of the caves and the production of the wonderful formations they contain.

CHAPTER III.

THE EXTERNAL FEATURES OF THE CAVES.

That portion of the limestone dyke in which the caves are found runs six miles north and south; and the Grand Arch and the Devil's Coach House—the two principal "day caves"—are formed right through the mountain, near the centre, in an easterly and westerly direction. On the one side McEwan's Creek flows towards the Devil's Coach House, and on the other side is a natural watercourse leading to the Grand Arch, which is only a few yards distant from it. Bearing in mind how the watercourses converge towards these two central caves, and with what force, in times of heavy rain, the floods scour them, a good understanding may be obtained of the mechanical causes of the enormous excavations which excite amazement as well as admiration. If a visit be paid in winter, when the frost is sharp and the ground is "hoar with rime;" when every bough and every blade of grass is covered with congealed dew and adorned with forms of crystallisation which rival the rarest beauties of the caves; when rocks are split and crumbled by sudden alternations of heat and cold; there will be abundant illustration of the effect of water and light, and the variation of temperature in causing geological transformation. Limestone is not soluble in water without the addition of carbonic acid. An exploration of the caves, however, shows that the mountains are not composed entirely of limestone, but that other substances constitute part of their bulk. The principal causes of the formation of the "day caves," the Grand Arch and the Devil's Coach House, are the mechanical action of water and the variation of temperature. As regards the interior caves, where night reigns supreme, chemical combination has played a more important part. But the effect of water power is everywhere observable in graceful contours, caused by continuous motion, or in stony efflorescence, produced by intermittent humidity or dryness of the atmosphere. The action of the former is the more marked and striking, the latter more elaborate, and microscopically beautiful. The hygrometric condition of the caves is recorded in lovely forms, which lend enchantment to ornate bowers, sparkling grottoes, and fairy cities.

THE GRAND ARCH.

The Grand Arch runs east and west, and is about 150 yards in length, 60 feet high, and 70 feet wide at its western end. The eastern end is 80 feet high, and about 200 feet wide. Its proportions and outline are gloomily impressive, and rather awe-inspiring. It is like the portico to some great castle of Giant Despair. The eastern end is a marvel of natural architecture, and the wonder is how so spacious a roof can remain intact under a weight so enormous. The rugged walls are varied by many peculiar rocky formations. On the northern side is "the Lion," shaped in stone so as to form a fair representation of the monarch of the forest. "The Pulpit" and "the Organ Loft" are suggestive of portions of some grand old cathedral. Adjacent is "the Bacon Cave," where the formations represent "sides," like so many flitches in the shop of a dry salter. The roof is hung with enormous honeycombed masses of limestone, whose sombre shades deepen to blackness in numerous fissures and crannies and cavernous spaces. As seen from the floor the roof appears to be covered with rich bold tracery, engraved by Herculean hands. Near the basement are huge rocky projections, with deep recesses, which for ages have been the retreat of rock wallabies. Near the eastern entrance, lying on the ground, is a gigantic block of limestone, weighing from 1,500 to 2,000 tons, and which at some remote period fell, and tilted half over. This is evident from the stalactite formation which remains on it. Ascending the precipitous masses on the south-eastern side of the eastern entrance over rocks which are, on the upper surface, as smooth as glazed earthenware, a position is attained from which the magnitude of the ornaments of the roof can be estimated. It is then perceived that what, viewed from the floor of the archway, seemed like natural carving in moderately bold relief, are pendant bodies of matter extending downwards 10 to 15 feet, and of enormous bulk. Along the walls of the arch are caves running obliquely into the mountain 10, 15, and 20 feet, and the bottom of which is thick with wallaby "dust." Out of these caves are passages which enable the marsupials to pass from one rocky hall to another until they find a secure refuge in some obscure and sunless sanctuary. The wallaby dust resembles mosquito powder. Perhaps it would be equally efficacious. It is not improbable that the floors of these caves represent a moderate fortune. The explorer sinks over his boot tops in the fine pulverised matter, which, however, is not odoriferous, and is void of offence if a handkerchief be used as a respirator. The presence of this substance, and the oxidisation of its ammonia, probably account for the saltpetre in the crevices of adjacent rocks, although not absolutely necessary to the result, because, in the absence of such accessories, it is an admitted chemical fact that nitrifiable matter is not commonly absent from limestone. In the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky saltpetre manufacture was carried on to a great extent by lixiviation from 1812 to 1814, and during the Civil War a principal factor in the manufacture of gunpowder was obtained from the same source. Up amongst the rocks, midway between the floor and the roof of the eastern entrance to the Grand Arch, in the midst of the wallaby drives, and near to a haunt of the lyre bird, the present curator of the caves had his sleeping-place for 20 years. There he strewed his bed of rushes or of grasses and ferns and mosses; and certainly neither Philip Quarll nor Robinson Crusoe had ever a more magnificent dormitory.

Near to it is a sepulchral-looking place, which, before the Cave House was erected, was reserved for strong-minded lady visitors, and fenced off with a tent-pole and a rug. Farther on is a series of rocks, where bachelors could choose for pillows the softest stones in the arch and dream of angels. All these historic places are pointed out by way of contrast to the state of things now existing, and which, perhaps, in turn will form as great a contrast to the state of things 20 years hence.

From this part of the archway a much better view of the Pulpit, the Lion, and the Organ Loft can be obtained than is possible from the floor. Their massiveness is brought out with great effect. The stalactites and stalagmites which form the organ pipes taper with remarkable grace, and are set off by the shadows in the recesses which vary from twilight grey to the darkness of Erebus. Over all are ponderous masses of blue limestone, with immense convexities filled with perpetual gloom. The rocks leading to the caves, the upper part of which is smooth as glass, owe their polish to their long use by wallabies as a track to and from their favourite haunts. Here and there may be detected in the "dust" on the floor the footprint of the native pheasant. There may also be seen and felt boulders and rugged rocks lying about in strange disorder.

Leaving the Grand Archway by the eastern end, the excursionist descends, through a rocky defile interlaced with foliage, into a dry, stony creek, about which are growing some very rare ferns, as well as some which are common, but nevertheless beautiful, and also some handsome native creeping plants. From this point may be seen the pinnacle which rises over the archway to an altitude of about 500 feet. About 50 yards down this dry creek, and about 20 yards below the junction of the roads from the Grand Archway to the Devil's Coach House, is "The Rising of the Water." Here among the rocks in the bed of the creek the water bursts out of the ground like a sparkling fountain of considerable volume, and "gleams and glides" along a romantic dell "with many a silvery waterbreak." And if it does not "steal by lawns and grassy plots," or yet by "hazel covers," or "move the sweet forget-me-nots that grow for happy lovers," it does here and there "loiter round its cresses." Its banks are so steep that its course cannot be easily followed for any great distance, but, without much difficulty, it may be traced until it flows over a rocky ledge into a deep pool, where there is a wire ladder for the convenience of bathers. Thence it chatters on to the River Cox, whence it enters the Warragamba, which joins the Nepean a few miles above Penrith, and about 50 miles below the Pheasant's Nest. It does not, therefore, enter into the Sydney water supply, but passes through the Hawkesbury to the ocean.