Читать книгу A Pit-brow Lassie - John Monk Foster - Страница 10

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"I am going to work to-night, Kate," said Luke Standish in a tone that showed anything save pleasure.

"How's that?" she asked.

"There's something wrong with the roof at the far end of the old northlevel, and as Dick Gorbey, the night timberman, is off work ill I shall have to take his place."

"You'll not be working long on the night shift I expect, Luke?" she said pityingly.

"I don't know," he grumbled, thinking that his evening walks with his sweet-heart would have to be discontinued for a time. "I suppose I shall have to remain on the night shift until Gorbey gets better."

The lovers were standing in the colliery yard a little distance from the King pit. It was five o'clock in the afternoon, the colliery had just finished work for the day, and Luke had returned to tell his sweetheart of the unexpected alteration in his working time.

They were to have gone for a walk that evening, but now that pleasure would have to be deferred until Saturday evening, for the night just named would be the only one on which Luke would be at liberty so long as he remained on the night shift, Sunday night being always a working night.

The lovers chattered for a few minutes longer, and once Kate thought of telling Luke of the pleasant young gentleman who had commenced to lodge at their house on the previous afternoon; but she did not, thinking her lover might be displeased if she evinced any interest in a comparative stranger, no matter how courteous and clever he might be.

The colliery yard was by this time almost deserted; there was no one visible to either Luke or Kate, and their parting words were crowned with a short caress and a long clinging kiss.

Then they went their different ways—the girl to the afternoon meal which she knew was awaiting her home-coming, the man to prepare himself for his night's work by an hour or two hours' sleep. And it seemed to the young miner that the discomfort of working in the night time had decreased considerably since Kate had sympathised with him on that account.

About three hours later the same evening the night shift workmen belonging to the King pit were gathered upon the pit bank awaiting their turn to descend. In gangs of ten the men got into the cage, and in a few minutes the brow was cleared of all save the night banksman.

On reaching the "pit-eye," as the bottom of the shaft is called, each cageful of workmen proceeded to the lamp station, where the night fireman was busily engaged examining each lamp to see that it was not defective in any way.

When the lamps were done with Sam Grimshay, the night official already mentioned, gave the miners their orders for the night, the thirty men were divided then dispatched to different parts of the mine, their work being mostly to repair the roads and colliers' places, which could not be done during the daytime.

Luke Standish was ordered to pick three men and go to the far end of the north level to repair the roof and broken bars which he would find in the shunt there, and a few minutes later Luke and his workmates were going towards that part of the mine the fireman had indicated.

The spot for which Luke and the others were bound lay right at the further end of the north side of the King pit, and it was quite a mile in a direct line from the pit shaft. Ways in the mine are commonly named after the colliers who drive them, and the shunt towards which the four men were journeying owed its name to a miner whose nickname was Doctor.

Luke had his "jackbit"—as Lancashire miners term their meat—with him, besides his can of tea, a pick and hammer, whilst his mates carried, in addition to their meat and drink, a saw and several spades. Thus laden they trudged along the dusty road—in some places the triturated coal was five or six inches thick—and by the time their destination was reached each of the four was perspiring freely.

After partially undressing themselves for work they rested a few minutes to cool their heated frames, and then Luke began to examine the roof they had come to repair. As foreman of the gang the management of the work rested upon him, and it did not take him long to discover that the job was a nasty one to tackle.

At this point the road was about nine feet wide, and the roof was already barred, that is, supported by heavy logs of timber thrown across and held up by stout props. But the props and bars were broken in many places, owing to the great masses of broken roof pressing down constantly upon them, and it would be a difficult matter, Luke could see, to take away the old timber and put in new without letting down a lot of the superincumbent rocks.

Expecting that a considerable amount of roof would fall in they made arrangements for stowing it in the colliers' places, which lay about a couple of hundred yards away, and they commenced work, several of the old bars being replaced by new ones without disturbing much of the broken roof.

It was twelve o'clock—supper time—and whilst they were eating the midnight meal the fireman came, examined their work, expressed his satisfaction with the progress they had made; then he inspected the colliers' places near at hand, and finding them all right went to inspect other parts of the mine lying nearer the shaft.

During the daytime, horses and lads, with gangs of full and empty tubs passed constantly beneath the roof Luke and his mates were repairing, and they were putting up the last bar preparatory to cleaning up the road in readiness for the day miners, when one of the props beside Standish split in two with a sharp crash, and he had scarcely time to bound instinctively backward, knocking down one of the men in his rush, as the roof came crashing down, sweeping out old timber and new, and completely blocking up the way between them and the pit shaft.

"We're a'reet mon," cried Joe Thomson, as he picked himself out of the dust into which Luke had sent him sprawling. "It's made us in, an' we'll ha' to gooa a' reawnd th' air roads to get eawt."

"Haply not, Joe," Luke answered. "It's only abeawt 4 o'clock, and we must try to scrape a road through when the roof settles."

After the lapse of ten minutes or so the roof ceased to fall, and, going cautiously to the edge of the fallen debris, Luke at once saw that it would be utterly useless to attempt making a way through it, for so great was the fall that he could not perceive its summit. So he had to tell Joe Thomson and the other two that they would have to return to the pit shaft through the air-ways.

This announcement was received with murmurs of dissatisfaction, for none of the men relished the idea of having to crawl along two miles or more of low winding ways after a hard night's work. But there was no other alternative, unless they chose to stay where they were until the fall was cleared away, and that might take two or perhaps three days.

Now, although Luke Standish had worked at the King pit for half a dozen years, he had never been through the air-ways on the old north side, nor had any of his present workmates, with the exception of Joe Thomson, and he only once in company with a fireman.

"Do yo' think yo'll know t' road again, Joe?" Luke asked, as they prepared to set out for the air roads.

"Ah think so, Luke," Joe replied, and off they started. Going first up an old incline, or "jig" as it was called, for a hundred and fifty yards, they then turned to the right, left the colliers' places behind them, and were soon in the air-ways. At this point there lay between them and the pit shaft a huge network of old disused roads, that part of the mine having been worked more than thirty years before.

Luke had often heard the firemen say that none of these old roads were fenced off or built up, as they ought to have been according to the Mines Regulation Act, and the officials had themselves admitted that they experienced some difficulty in finding their way through them.

Joe Thomson's confidence seemed to increase with every step he took, and, glad of this, Luke and the other two proceeded at his heels as fast as the lowness of the roads would permit, and presently they were amid the old workings referred to.

For some time their progress was both quick and certain; the swift ventilating current, rushing past them in the direction they pursued, showing them they were right. But in a short time the current became imperceptible, owing to the numerous ways open to its course. The flames of their Davy lamps were no longer deflected by the air streams passing through the gauze, and this guide lost, they had to depend solely on Joe Thomson's memory.

But Joe seemed to remember the way right enough, and they trudged on rapidly, now turning to the right, then to the left, now ascending an incline, then going down a declivity, every turn in the road they followed causing a variation in the gradient.

Joe Thomson was still leading; Luke followed him, then came the other two. All of them were beginning to feel tired, for so low were the old roads in many places that they had to bend themselves double, and the floor was slippery as glass in places. Innumerable old workings branched out from the path they followed, and just as Luke was about to propose a few minutes' rest Thomson stopped suddenly, exclaiming in a tone of infinite surprise and disgust—

"Well, Ah'm blest! This is a fettler, an' no mistake abeawt it!"

There was no need to ask any questions as to the cause of their guide's sudden halting and exclamations, for the reason was plain to all of them. There, only four or five yards ahead of them, the road ended in a blank wall of stone. They sat down and stared at each other, surprise and vexation showing clearly in each work-grimed countenance.

Luke said nothing, but the other men began to rate Thomson soundly for pretending to know the road through the air-ways, and he confessed that he was quite lost. Looking at his watch Luke saw that it was half-past 5, so that they had been walking for over an hour, and in that time must have covered considerably above a mile of ground.

But where were they now?

To this question none of them could give an answer, and after resting a minute or two they turned back, Luke now leading whilst their late guide dropped discomfited behind. Standish struck boldly along the first road he came to, trusting to luck for want of a better guide, but his attempt at leading proved no better than Joe Thomson's had done, for after another hour's crawling along low, tortuous ways, under dangerous stones in the roof and over heaps of fallen debris they came again to a standstill.

This time their further progress was effectually barred by a solid wall of coal. Again they rested, and, happening to glance at the coal-side, near which he was seated, Luke saw the following writing:—

"June 29th, 1853. Jack Bentham."

The writing was in chalk, but it appeared almost as clear as if it been written that day. None of the other men could read, and seeing Luke scanning the rough, white characters on the coal one of them asked him what it was. He then read it for them, whereupon Joe Thomson cried out—

"Why, Luke, that's my owd gron-fayther's rahtin. Thah knows he used to work heeur twenty or thirty eer sin. He was a firemon, an' a've offen heerd th' owd cock talk abeawt these owd roads, bur ah never thowt then as ah had fort' be lost in 'em misel."

Joe seemed deeply affected by the sight of his ancestor's handwriting, but the rugged characters told them nothing of their whereabouts, nor of a way out of the maze in which they were lost. They were all quite weary by this time, and Joe and the other two wished to remain there until someone came to their rescue; but Luke refused to give up the struggle yet, and so he pressed onward, the others following reluctantly at his heels.

If they sat down to await the coming of a guide to lead them out of that labyrinth they might starve them to death ere aid came. It was now nearly eight o'clock, and each of them ought to have been at home two hours ago. By this time the day-shift miners would have gone to the far end of the north level, and there encountered the heap of fallen roof that had forced the four miners to go through the air-ways.

The manager and other officials of the mine would be uneasy about the missing men, and would perhaps think they were buried beneath the great fall. Their relatives also would be upset about them; and thinking of all these things Luke could not endure the thought of sitting there for an indefinite period.

So on they went again, wearily dragging one leg after another. Often they had to crawl on hands and knees for a great distance, where the roof had sunk until it almost met the floor.

One way after another was tried with unvarying failure. They had now gone through many of the old roads, and many more yet remained untraversed, for the old galleries intersected each other every ten or fifteen yards like the cords of a huge net. Very frequently they came upon dates many years old, and the names of former officials all written in chalk.

At first they had chatted to each other as they trudged along, but the conversation gradually slackened, till it ceased altogether, and nothing broke the dense stillness, into which they seemed to be going deeper and deeper each stride, save the clangour of their ironed clogs striking upon the hard floor of the mine.

"Wait here a bit lads, while I have a look up this place!" Luke said, as they came to the bottom of a road that seemed to ascend more steeply than the others they had passed through.

The others assented readily to this proposal, and Luke went along the road, trusting that it might lead them from the huge subterranean net in which they were enmeshed. On and on he went, without encountering any barrier, and with each stride grew a hope that at last he had found the right way. He was now about a hundred yards from his comrades, and glancing back he could see the glimmer of their lamps gleaming through the intervening darkness like stars.

Luke thought that he would go a little further before he shouted for his mates to follow him, and, quickening his pace, he sped on for another score of yards. Then he came suddenly to a stop, and a cry of great disgust burst from his lips. He could get no further. The road was completely blocked by a mighty heap of fallen rocks.

Intensely annoyed by the discovery he had made, he dropped upon the floor intending to rest a little ere rejoining his companions, and sitting there he began to speculate as to when and by what means he and those with him were to be freed from their underground prison.

The exact nature of what followed Luke Standish was never able to determine to his own satisfaction. Whether it were a dream only or really a supernatural vision that he witnessed he could not decide. Weary and exhausted by his wanderings he might have dropped asleep and dreamed it all. Anyhow, this is what he remembered.

He thought he had rested sufficiently, and was about to jump up and hasten back to his comrades, when a sudden and overwhelming horror seemed to petrify him.

There, at a fathom's distance from him, was seated a man apparently ten years older than himself. He was strongly built, rather heavily bearded, with a blue shirt of flannel, such as miners wear, corduroy breeches held up by a belt, and a pair of clogs covering his feet.

The man's face wore a weird, awe-looking expression, and for a few horrible moments Luke Standish gazed upon it spellbound.

The unutterable agony of that brief space will never be forgotten by Luke. Even now the memory of it makes him shudder. There he sat in the middle of the old road mute and motionless, between the young miner and his companions, and Luke could only stare wide-eyed upon the stranger.

How long the horror lasted Luke could not tell. He saw the mysterious figure rise and move towards him, nor could he stir a limb, although he was right in the main path, and on that weird figure came as if the miner were not there.

The next moment Luke felt a deadly chill, as if an icicle had penetrated every pore in his body, and the mysterious stranger was past him. How he came about he knew not. He felt no shock of collision; he felt only that terrible chill and the man or phantom was beyond him, and that the figure had walked right through him.

With distended eyes he watched that strange silent figure walk toward the fallen heap of roof, and the next instant it had melted away, having apparently plunged through the hard masses of rock as if they were but a fog.

Then Luke's brain seemed to spin madly round, and he sank unconscious on the floor, a deep sob of agony welling from out his dry lips and parched throat.