"Isn't this eerie?" Mrs. Briggs asked Timmy.
He looked around casually and yawned. "On an Elroom program," he said, "you would be able to see all the way down. I don't think this is so hot." He yawned again. "I'm thirsty."
"We'll be going down in a minute, Timmy."
"I've got the route figured better than Itineraries for the next stop," George said. "If we could leave in twenty minutes—"
Aragonite crystals on the cavern's ceiling twinkled brightly in reflection of glowing electric lights. The fragile beauty of the boxwork formation took Mrs. Briggs's breath away.
"It's just like lace," she whispered to George, pointing to the frosty tracery glistening in the honeycombed walls.
"Tom Bingham discovered this cave," the guide intoned before the tourists seated in the giant chamber, his voice echoing from the walls. "He heard a whistling sound and found it came from a small opening. That's why they call this Wind Cave. The wind goes in and out."
"Why does it do that?" someone asked.
"Difference in atmospheric pressure," the guide said. "Another interesting thing about this cave: It's always forty-seven degrees. Doesn't make any difference whether it's summer or winter. Always the same in here."