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Underground Rivers - University of New Mexico

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Chapter 21 -- Boys Club Singles<br />

The title, "Waldon, the Half-Breed" by William H. Bushnell, Flag <strong>of</strong> Our Union, October 21, 1865,<br />

wouldn't pass muster by today's cultural standards, but as adventure, it lacked little.<br />

Suddenly his feet slipped from under him, and<br />

his hand aching with the recent terrible struggle,<br />

alone rested on the slimy, mossy rock. To<br />

retain his hold was impossible. Slowly but<br />

surely he slipped down, down, but whither he<br />

dared not think. In a moment he was clutching<br />

at the intangible air alone, and with a cry <strong>of</strong><br />

despair ringing from his lips, he fell into a<br />

yawning pit, a dark subterranean stream.<br />

The Flag had seen better days, publishing Edward Alan Poe seven times in 1849.<br />

Edward Bulwer-Lytton, The Coming Race (1871) tells in turgid<br />

prose <strong>of</strong> an American's descent into a deep mine, at the bottom<br />

<strong>of</strong> which is a broad road lit by gas lamps. The road leads into an<br />

underworld <strong>of</strong> "lakes and rivulets which seemed to have been<br />

curved into artificial banks; some <strong>of</strong> pure water, others that<br />

shone like pools <strong>of</strong> naphtha." Unfortunately, Lytton's underworld<br />

also contains descendents from the deluge who plan to emerge<br />

and conquer the surface world.<br />

George Owen's The Leech Club, or Mysteries <strong>of</strong> the Catskills (1874) draws upon the readers'<br />

knowledge <strong>of</strong> Greek lore.<br />

Finally they reached a narrow defile bounded on each side by a precipice. From this defile<br />

flowed a stream <strong>of</strong> water, beside which there was barely room to enter. This they knew from<br />

the description given by the old mountaineer, was the ravine they were seeking. Climbing from<br />

boulder to boulder, wet with the spray <strong>of</strong> the brawling stream, they make their way into the<br />

defile.<br />

"Ah! Horace! Verily we have entered the infernal regions. I felt, when we were passing<br />

through the defile, climbing, slipping, and sometimes wading through the steam, that we were<br />

really crossing the river Styx, and I thought <strong>of</strong> calling the ferryman Charon to our aid."<br />

"Indeed," said Horace, "if we don't meet that Stygian boatman or some <strong>of</strong> his crew here, we<br />

need not seek them elsewhere, but may be content till they come for us <strong>of</strong> their own accord."<br />

DRAFT 1122//66//22001122<br />

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