Cumberland Falls, Kentucky's Million Dollar State Park, of 593 acres,
was a gift of T. Coleman du Pont and family of Delaware; its chief
attraction is the Falls, once called Shawnee, with the profile of an
Indian plainly to be seen in jutting rock over which the roaring
cataract plunges near Corbin and Williamsburg. In this once Dark and
Bloody Ground there is amazing beauty; on July 1st, 1941, Mammoth Cave,
the twenty-sixth National Park, was dedicated with imposing ceremonies,
adding another link to the Park-to-Park plan. If it had not been for the
saltpeter from this cave the Battle of New Orleans would have been lost,
for from this mineral gunpowder that saved the day was made. So vast is
one of its caverns, the Snowball Dining Room, 267 feet underground, that
hundreds of members of the Associated Press held a dinner there in 1940.
Mammoth Cave is reached by U. S. Highway 70, west from Cave City, and
one hundred miles south of Louisville. The vast national park of which
it is a part is watered by the Green River, known to early explorers.

Kentucky's most talked-of cave in recent years is that in which Floyd
Collins lost his life in 1925. The tons of rock in Sand Cave under which
he was trapped did not cause his death, however. Collins died of
pneumonia. His body now lies buried in Crystal Cave, which was Floyd's
favorite of all those he had spent his life in exploring.

One travels cross country from Crystal Cave to the Blue Grass on Russell
Cave Road, along with some of the 45,000 other people who have come
within a single year to see Man o' War, the most famous race horse of
all times. "The Blue Grass region of Kentucky," says Prof. E. S. Good,
head of the department of animal husbandry of the University of
Kentucky, "is the premier breeding ground for light horses because of
its ample rainfall, mild climate, abundance of sunshine and a soil rich
in calcium and phosphorus, so necessary to produce superior bone, muscle
and nerve."

Though mountain men are proud to own a good pair of mules and will
praise the merits of this lowly beast without stint, they generally know
or care little about blooded race horses. They take pride in less
glamorous possessions. For instance, they are proud that in their midst
the McGuffey Readers were still taught by an aged schoolmaster in
defiance of legislation which barred the classics and that the little
log school in which he taught is the first and only shrine in Kentucky
to