On Friday evening, August 24, S. S. Nicolini of Ragusa, Austria, E. D. Dewert of Portland and myself boarded the southbound train for Grants Pass, intent on a few days' outing. This town of Grants Pass was so named for a pass in the mountains several miles south, where, in early days, the silent hero camped for the night. [The pass was named in honor of U. S. Grant, but he never set foot in Southern Oregon.]
    Early Saturday morning my head was banged up against one end of our sleeping car, an instant after hearing the shrill whistle sounding "down brakes." As soon as possible I got on the outside and found the engines standing within a few feet of a yawning chasm, where a bridge had been. Now, however, several bents had been burned away and a terrible railroad accident was averted by the quick eye of engineer Elliott, who saw the fire as we turned the curve and stopped the train almost instantly.
    At Grants Pass, H. D., M. M. and F. M. Harkness joined us, and we started for the Josephine County caves, about thirty miles due south in the Siskiyou Mountains. For twenty miles the trip was made over a very good road by wagon. At that point it became necessary to pack our things on two horses and walk over a trail into the mountains. On a hot day this portion of the trip is very laborious, owing to the fact that it is up the steep mountainside about two-thirds of the way, and down an equally steep incline the remainder. We arrived at our destination a little before noon the 27th, and found two openings, one above the other, and about one hundred yards apart on the south side of a deep canyon. When out hunting a few years since, Elijah Davidson found a bear and chased it into the lower entrance, thus discovering the caves.
    Each entrance is high enough to admit a person without stooping, and is probably eight feet wide. At noon we entered the upper cave. For a few feet the floor inclined inward; we then descended a ladder for about six feet, and found ourselves in a passageway eight feet wide by an equal height, which changed, however, at every step. Now it would be wider, and now narrower; now higher, and now lower. Walls, ceiling and floor were composed of solid rock. To describe them appropriately would simply be to use a gift made divine by inspiration. No man can behold them, then impart to others an accurate idea of their appearance. Soon after entering we were compelled to progress on hands and knees, then stood upright in chambers ten feet high, the walls of which were white. Stalactites were first seen here, and and involuntarily we cast shy glances around to discover the bodies of kings preserved beneath such droppings in "King Solomon's Mines." We wandered from place to place, from chamber to chamber, dragging ourselves through passageways briefly large enough to admit a human body, while with toes and fingers we worked along, or stood in the midst of rooms that reached far above us. Now we see a beautiful pool of the clearest water, surrounded by a delicate crystal formation in the shape of a bowl. In color it is as white as the driven snow, while each crystal is oblong, projecting at right angles with the main portion for about an eighth of an inch. One peculiarity of these crystals that disappointed us was the fact that they change from white to a dull, yellowish color immediately after being removed from the caves.
    We were extremely anxious to try a new process for taking photographs in the dark, do Dewert took his camera and acted as photographer for the party. Owing to the limited space at times and cramped manner of locomotion, it requires the services of four men to carry the camera and accompanying necessities. Having reached a suitable place for a picture, the camera was first put in position, a board was laid on the top of it in which a tin reflector was placed, and a little powder called the lightning flash was then poured on the board in front of the reflector. At this point the order was given, "Douse the glim," and all lights were extinguished. The plate was exposed in perfect darkness, the powder was ignited, and instantly there was a flash of the most intense light. This light was so brilliant that for several minutes afterward it caused in the eyes a lingering sensation of light. Several photographs were taken in this way, which will doubtless prove excellent examples of what ingenuity can do in the dark.
    It would require days of constant work to explore all the passage we found, whereas our time was limited to that portion of one day after 12 o'clock noon. For this reason we remained in the caves from noon to midnight, first examining the upper, then the lower one. This difference exists between them: The one above is possessed of fine stalactite formations, while below none appear. Instead, however, immense rocks are piled indiscriminately one upon the other, with great cracks between. Long ladders were used to climb to the tops of rocks, over the sides of which yawning pits could be seen that seemed to possess no bottom. Lack of time alone prevented our making a thorough investigation, but I could not resist the temptation to climb over the side of one friendly rock for a few feet to see what it looked like. Down to twenty feet the space remained unchanged so that I could easily reach from rock to rock. It then widened out and I could proceed no further without ropes, so I returned to the party. A fine stream of clear, cold water flows from this cave, and a strong breeze of cool air rushes forth also. At times in both upper and lower cave the wind blew toward the entrance so strong it was impossible to keep the lights burning. No traces of foul air have been found in either cave.
    Before our visit visions of square chambers filled my mind only to be dusted aside when real ones presented themselves, the irregular shape of which could not well be surpassed. There are no parallel walls, few straight ones, but corners everywhere. The floor will pitch in all directions, likewise ceiling and walls. Beautiful views of stalactites and stalagmites stand out in bold relief against snow-white walls. At the farthest extremity of the upper cave in one direction an immense chamber presents itself, and should be known as the devil's banquet hall. It is probably 75x150 feet and sixty feet in height. Great blocks of rock hang as by a thread from the ceiling, while on every side rocks of equal size lie in all conceivable shapes except in order. Standing at the point of entry one looks at the opposite side and sees great cracks; yawning cavities with open mouths of blackness, dismal shadows to flickering lights give a ghoulish, dance-like appearance. Yes, the devil seems to be holding high carnival, while his imps would dance the night away. They bob up and down and swing their arms in fiendish glee, while the dance goes on forever. None can look therein without seeing these imps and their antics. The floor recedes rapidly from the entrance, and is composed of great rocks scattered in confusion. We placed a number of lighted candles in different places, then climbed to the opposite side to view them. The shadows had partially disappeared; crevices and holes in the walls not before seen became suddenly black and excited our curiosity, so we climbed over high rocks into unknown passages. In a small chamber on one side we found a beautiful stream of water, falling several feet into a crystal basin. The walls of the chamber are white, and the effect by candlelight is very fine indeed.
    Midnight found us still employed, but we reluctantly ceased our labors and withdrew. Without unnecessary ceremony we wrapped our blankets about us, laid down beneath the stars, and slept the sleep of the just until 3 o'clock, when the dulcet notes of a coyote called us to the business of the day. Preparations were quickly made for the journey, and at daylight we were on our way to Grants Pass, where we arrived at 9 o'clock p.m.
Morning Oregonian, Portland, September 10, 1888, page 8