Kitabı oku: «Derrick Sterling: A Story of the Mines», sayfa 8

These miners had a loaded car ready to be hauled away. One of them asked Derrick if he would mind hitching it on behind his empty car, and drawing it to the junction, adding that the boy who had taken his place that day was too slow to live.

"All right," said Derrick. "I guess we can take it for you."

So, with two cars instead of one to pull, Harry Mule was started towards the junction. On the way they had to pass through a door in charge of a boy who had only come into the mine that day. This door opened towards them, and they approached it on a slightly descending grade.

As they drew near to it, with Harry Mule trotting briskly along, Derrick shouted, "Door!"

Again he shouted, louder than before, "Door! door! Holloa there! what's the matter?"

The little door-tender, unaccustomed to the utter silence and solitude of the situation, sat fast asleep in his chair. At last Derrick's frantic shoutings roused him, and he sprang to his feet, but too late. A crash, a wild cry, and poor Harry Mule lay on the floor of the gangway, crushed between the heavy cars and the solid, immovable door!

CHAPTER XIV
A LIFE IS SAVED AND DERRICK IS PROMOTED

Mrs. Halford and her daughter were flung rudely forward to the end of the car by the shock of the collision, and were, of course, badly frightened, as well as considerably shaken up and somewhat bruised. They were not seriously hurt, however, and with Derrick's assistance they got out of the car and stood on the door-tender's platform.

Derrick sent the boy who had been so sleepy, but who was now wide-awake and crying with fright, back to ask the miners they had just left to come to their assistance. Then he turned his attention to Harry Mule. The poor beast was not dead, but was evidently badly injured. He was jammed so tightly between the cars and the door that he could not move, and the light of Derrick's lamp disclosed several ugly-looking cuts in his body, from which blood was flowing freely.

The tears streamed down the boy's face as he witnessed the suffering of his dumb friend, and realized how powerless he was to do anything to relieve it. He was not a bit ashamed of these signs of grief when he felt a light touch on his arm, and turning, saw Nellie Halford, with eyes also full of tears, standing beside him, and gazing pityingly at the mule.

"Will he die, do you think?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I'm afraid so, or that he's too badly hurt to be made well again, and so will have to be killed."

"No, he sha'n't be killed. My uncle sha'n't let him. If he does, I'll never love him again!" exclaimed Miss Nellie, with determined energy. "Poor old mule! poor Harry! you shall have everything in the world done for you if you only won't die," she added, stooping and patting the animal's head with her soft hand.

Feebly lifting his head and pricking forward his great ears, Harry Mule opened his eyes, and looked at the girl for a moment so earnestly that she almost thought he was going to speak to her. Then the big, wondering eyes were closed again, and the shaggy head sank on the wet roadway, but Nellie felt that she had been thanked for her pitying words and gentle touch.

After a while the little door-tender came hurrying back, followed by the men for whom he had been sent. They were much excited over the accident, on account of the character of the visitors who had been sufferers from it, and were inclined to use very harsh language towards the boy whose neglect of duty had caused it. This, however, was prevented by Mrs. Halford, who declared she would not have the little fellow abused. She said it was a burning shame that children of his age were allowed in the mines at all, and it was no wonder they went to sleep, after sitting all alone for hours without anything to occupy their thoughts, in that awful darkness and silence.

The loaded car proved so heavy that it had to be unloaded before it could be moved. Then the empty car was pushed back from Harry Mule, and he made a frantic struggle to regain his feet. After several unsuccessful attempts he finally succeeded, and stood trembling in the roadway. It was now seen that he had the use of only three legs, and an examination showed his right fore-leg to be broken.

"He'll never do no more work in this mine," said one of the men. "The poor beast will have to be killed."

"He sha'n't be killed! He sha'n't, I say. We won't have him killed; will we, mother?" cried Nellie Halford, her voice trembling with emotion.

"No, dear, not if anything we can do will prevent it," answered the mother, gently.

"Don't you think," continued the girl, turning to Derrick, "that he might be mended if anybody would take the time and trouble?"

"Yes, I think he might, because there is a mule at work in the mine now that had a broken leg, and they cured him. He was a young mule, though. I'm afraid they won't bother with one so old as Harry."

"He's listening to every word we say," interrupted the girl, "and I do believe he understands too. Just look at him!"

The wounded mule was standing in a dejected attitude on the very spot where he had been so badly hurt; but his patient face, with its big eyes, was turned inquiringly towards them, and it did seem as though he were listening anxiously to the conversation about himself.

He managed to limp a few steps away from the door, so that it could be opened, and was then left in charge of the little door-tender, who was instructed to keep him as still as possible.

After the miners had given the empty car a start, Derrick found that he could keep it in motion, and undertook to push it as far as the junction, Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie following on foot. The two miners remained upon the scene of the accident to refill the car they had been compelled to unload.

The ladies and Derrick had gone but a short distance when they heard, faintly, through the closed door behind them, a plaintive "Haw, he-haw, he-haw, he-haw."

As Nellie Halford said, it sounded exactly as though poor dear old Harry Mule were begging them not to leave him.

They had nearly reached the junction when a cheery voice rang out of the gloom ahead of them, saying,

"Holloa there! where's your mule? and where's your light? You wouldn't run over a stranger, would you?"

"I'm the mule," replied Derrick, as, panting and perspiring with his exertions, he looked around a rear corner of the car to see who was coming.

"Why, Derrick, is that you?" inquired the voice, in a tone of great surprise. "What has happened? where are the ladies?"

"Oh, Warren!" exclaimed Mrs. Halford, from somewhere back in the darkness, "I'm so thankful to see—I mean to hear—you. Here we are."

"But I don't understand," said Mr. Jones, for it was he who had so unexpectedly come to their assistance. "What is the meaning of all this? Where's the bumping-mule?"

"We had a collision with a door," explained Miss Nellie, "and poor Harry Mule got crushed. His leg's broken, and he's all cut up. But oh, Uncle Warren, you won't have him killed, will you?"

"I can't promise until I find out how badly he is injured."

"Oh, but you must, Uncle Warren. If you have him killed, I'll never love you again," insisted Miss Nellie, repeating the threat she had already made.

"Well, dear, I'll promise this: he shall not be killed unless I can show you that it is the best thing to be done, and you give your consent."

"Then he'll live to be an old, old mule!" cried Miss Nellie, joyfully; "for I'll never, never consent to have him killed."

As the ladies once more got into the car, and the mine boss helped Derrick push it towards the junction, Mrs. Halford said, "How do you happen to be back so early, Warren? I thought you were to be gone all day."

"Why, so I have been," he answered, with some surprise. "Don't you call from six o'clock in the morning to nearly the same hour of the evening all day?"

"You don't mean to say that it is nearly six o'clock?"

"I do; for that witching hour is certainly near at hand."

"Well, I never knew a day to pass so quickly in my life. I didn't suppose it was more than three o'clock, at the latest."

"It is, though; and to understand how time passes down in a mine, you have but to remember two often quoted sayings. One is, 'Time is money,' and the other, 'Money vanishes down the throat of a mine more quickly than smoke up a chimney.' Ergo, time vanishes quickly down in a mine. Is not that a good bit of logic for you?"

Both the ladies laughed at this nonsense, but it served to divert their minds from the painful scene they had just witnessed, and therefore accomplished its purpose.

From the junction Mr. Jones sent some men back to get Harry Mule and take him to the stable, where his injuries could be examined and his wounds dressed. He also ordered a report to be made concerning them that evening. Then the ladies' car was attached to a train of loaded coal-wagons, and the party were thus taken to the foot of the slope.

As the great wire cable began to strain, and they started slowly up the slope towards the outer world, both Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie looked back regretfully into the mysterious depths behind them.

"I wouldn't have believed that in a few hours this awful place could exercise such a fascination over me," said the former. "I really hate to leave it, and wish we were coming down again to-morrow."

"So do I," exclaimed Miss Nellie; "and if I were a boy, I'd study to be an engineer, and spend my life down among the 'black diamonds' of the coal-mines."

Did this girl know of the hopes and ambitions of the boy who sat beside her? This question flashed through his mind; but he quickly answered it for himself: "Of course not, Derrick Sterling. What a fool you are to fancy such a thing! She only knows and thinks of you, if she thinks of you at all, as a mule-driver, such as she has seen a dozen of to-day."

Although the sun had set when they reached the top of the slope, and a breeze was blowing, the outer air felt oppressively warm after that of the mine, and the ladies became suddenly aware of a weariness they had not before felt.

Derrick was made very happy, and almost forgot for a time his sadness at Harry Mule's pitiable condition, when Mr. Jones invited him to come and take tea with them. Joyfully accepting the invitation, the lad hastened home to change his clothes, and the others, walking more slowly gazed after him.

"I think he's splendid!" exclaimed Miss Nellie, with the outspoken decision that generally marked the expression of her thoughts; "and I do hope he will have a chance to become a mining engineer."

"He will, if he keeps on trying for it as he has begun," said her uncle. "Any boy, no matter if he is born and brought up a gentleman, as Derrick Sterling certainly was, who goes in at the very bottom of any business, determined to climb to the top, will find a way to do it."

"I like to see a boy not ashamed to do dirty work, if that is what his duty calls him to do," said Mrs. Halford. "He comes out all the brighter and cleaner by contrast when the dirt is washed off."

If Derrick's right ear did not burn and tingle with all this praise, it ought to have done so; but perhaps he was too busy telling the exciting news of the day at home to notice it.

He did not walk past the Jones's house, nor hesitate before ringing the door-bell on this occasion, as he had the evening before, but stepped up to it with all the boldness of one who was about to meet and greet old acquaintances. Besides, his mind was too full of the sad fate that had befallen his mule to admit of more than the briefest consideration of personal feelings.

At the supper-table the conversation was wholly of mines, collieries, and the perils of miners' lives, in regard to which Mr. Jones related a number of interesting incidents.

"How wonderful it is!" said Miss Nellie, who had listened to all this with eager attention. "Who first discovered coal, anyway, Uncle Warren? and how did people find out that it would burn?"

"If you mean who discovered anthracite coal, I believe the credit is generally given to a man named Philip Gunter, who lived in a cabin on the side of a mountain not far from where we are now sitting. He was a hunter; and the story goes that one day in the year 1791 he had been out hunting for many hours, without securing any game, which made him feel very badly, for when he left home that morning there was no food in the house. Towards night he was returning, greatly depressed in spirits, and paying so little heed to his footsteps that he stumbled and fell over some obstacle. Stooping to see what it was, he found a black stone, different from any he had ever before noticed. He had, however, heard of stone coal, and thought perhaps this might be a lump of that substance. Having nothing else to carry, he decided to take it home as a curiosity. Soon afterwards he gave it to a friend, who sent it to Philadelphia, where it was pronounced to be genuine coal. A few gentlemen became interested in this discovery, and formed themselves in the 'Lehigh Coal-mine Company.' A mine was opened, and four laborers were employed to work it; but as there was no way of getting the coal they mined to market they were soon discharged, and the project was abandoned for the time being.

"Nothing further was done until 1817, when Colonel George Shoemaker, of Pottsville, took four wagon-loads of anthracite coal to Philadelphia, and tried to sell it there. People laughed at him for telling them that those black stones would burn; but he guaranteed that they would. Upon this a number of persons bought small quantities on trial; but all their efforts failed to set it on fire. Then they became very angry, and tried to have Colonel Shoemaker thrown into prison for cheating them. He fled from the city, pursued by officers who held warrants for his arrest. Finally he managed to elude them, and reached his home, thoroughly disgusted with coal, and ready to swear that he would have nothing more to do with it.

"In the mean time a lot of the black stones had been purchased for trial by the Fairmount Nail-works. It was placed in one of the furnaces, and the proprietor spent a whole morning with his men in trying to make the stuff burn. They were unsuccessful, and finally, completely disheartened by their failure, they shut the furnace door and went off to dinner, uttering loud threats against the man who had sold them such worthless trash. Upon their return to the works they were filled with amazement, for the furnace door was red hot, and a fire of the most intense heat was roaring and blazing behind it. Since that time there has been no difficulty in selling anthracite coal nor in making it burn. Now the production of coal in this country has reached such enormous proportions that its annual value is equal to that of all the gold, silver, and iron mined in the United States during the year."

Just here Mr. Jones was interrupted by the arrival of the report of Harry Mule's condition. It was very brief, and pronounced the animal to be so badly injured, and his chances of recovery so slight, that it would cost more to attempt to cure him than he was worth.

"Now what am I to do about him?" asked Mr. Jones.

"I want to buy that mule, Warren," said Mrs. Halford.

"Please give him to me," pleaded Miss Nellie.

"I should like to have a chance to try and cure him," said Derrick; and all these requests were made at once.

Mr. Jones looked at them with a puzzled smile, thought a moment, and then said, "All right: I will sell him to you, sister, for one cent, provided you will give him to Nellie, and that she will leave him with Derrick to care for and cure if he can."

"That's a splendid plan!" cried Miss Nellie.

"Have you any place in which to take care of him?" asked Mrs. Halford of Derrick.

"Yes," answered the boy, "we have a little empty stable back of our house that will make a tip-top mule hospital."

"Then it's a bargain, Warren; and if you take care of him, Derrick, you must let me pay all the doctor's bills, and furnish all necessary hay, corn, and oats."

Thus it was decided that Harry Mule should be restored to health and usefulness, if money, skill, and kind care could do it.

Before Derrick left, the mine boss said to him, "Now that there is no Harry Mule for you to drive, I am going to promote you, and let you work with Tom Evert as his helper. In that position you will gain a thoroughly practical knowledge of mining. You may report to him to-morrow."

CHAPTER XV
A "SQUEEZE" AND A FALL OF ROCK

As it was impossible for Harry Mule to climb the gigantic stairway of the travelling-road, his legs were bound so that he could not move them, a platform was laid across two coal-cars from which the sides had been removed, and he was placed on this, and firmly lashed to it. In this manner he was drawn to the top of the slope, and from there he managed to limp, though with great difficulty and very slowly, to the little stable behind the Sterlings' house.

Here, by order of the mine boss, carpenters had been at work since early morning making a roomy box-stall in place of two small ones, and providing it with a broad sling of strong canvas, which was hung from eye-bolts inserted in beams overhead. This was passed beneath the mule's belly, and drawn so that while he could stand on three legs if he wished, he could also rest the whole weight of his body upon it.

After Harry Mule was thus made as comfortable as possible, a skilful veterinary surgeon set his broken leg, and bound it so firmly with splints that it could not possibly move. He also sewed up the cuts on various parts of the animal's body, and said that with good care he thought the patient might recover, though his leg would probably always be stiff.

These operations occupied the attention of Mr. Jones, the Halfords, and the Sterling family, including Derrick, until noon, when it was time for Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie to take the train for Philadelphia.

Before leaving, Mrs. Halford had an interview with Bill Tooley, who was now able to hobble about with the aid of a crutch. She said that if he would, under Derrick's direction, take care of Harry Mule, and see that all his wants were promptly supplied until he got well, she would pay him the same wages that he could earn by working in the breaker.

Of course Bill gratefully accepted this offer; and either because he had a feeling of sympathy for an animal that was suffering in much the same way that he was, or because his own trials and the kindness shown him had really softened his nature, he proved a capital and most attentive nurse.

Often after this, when Derrick entered the stable unexpectedly, he discovered these two cripples engaged in conversation. At least he would find Bill Tooley perched on the edge of the manger, where he balanced himself with his crutch, talking in his uncouth way to the mule; while the latter, with great ears pricked forward, and wondering eyes fixed unwinkingly upon the speaker, seemed to pay most earnest attention to all that he said.

As Derrick watched the train bearing his recently made friends roll away from the little station, and disappear around a sharp curve in the valley, he experienced a feeling of sadness, for which he was at first unable to account. In thinking it over, he decided that it was because he felt sorry to have anybody go away who had been so kind to his much-loved bumping-mule.

Turning away from the station, he walked slowly back to the mouth of the slope, jumped into an empty car, and was lowered into the mine.

Why did the place appear so strange to him? All the interest, of which it had seemed so full but the day before, was gone from it, and Derrick felt that he hated these underground delvings. A feeling of dread came over him as he started along one of the gangways in search of Tom Evert, to whom he had been ordered to report for duty. The air seemed close and suffocating, and the lamps to burn with a more sickly flame than usual. To the boy the faces of the miners looked haggard, and their voices sounded unnaturally harsh. He overheard one of them say, "Ay, she's working, there's no doubt o' that; but it's naught to worrit over; just a bit settlin' into place like."

Derrick wondered, as he passed out of hearing, what the man meant; and as he wondered he was startled by a sharp report like the crack of a rifle, only much louder, and a horrible grinding, crushing sound that came from the rock wall of the gangway close beside him. The sound filled him with such terror that he fled from it, running at full speed through the black, dripping gallery. He ran until he came to a group of miners who were strengthening the roof with additional props and braces of new timber. He told them of his fright, and they laughed at him.

"He's heerd t' mine a-talking, and got skeert at her voice," said one.

"She's allus a-cracklin' an' a-sputterin' when she's uneasy and workin' hersel' comfortable like; don't ye know that, lad? It's only a 'squeeze.' Sich noises means naught but warnin's to put in a few new timbers here and there," explained another, more kindly. He was an old man, in that his cheeks were sunken and his hair was gray, though he had lived less than forty years. This is counted old among miners, for their terrible life and the constant inhaling of coal-dust ages them very rapidly. Seeing him thus aged, and feeling that he would be less likely to ridicule him than the others, Derrick ventured to ask him if there was really any danger of a general caving in of that part of the mine.

"Hoot, lad! there's allus danger in t' mine," was the reply. "But if ye mean is there more now than ordinary, I'd answer ye 'No.' It's a common thing this squeezing and settling of a mine, and times there's men killed by it, but more often it's quieted without harm bein' done. No, no, lad; haud ye no fears! I'd bid ye gang oot an' I thocht ye war in danger."

Although Derrick was greatly comforted by these words, he could not help dreading to hear more of the rock explosions, which are caused by the roof, walls, and pillars of the mine giving slightly beneath the vast crushing weight of material above them. When he reached Paul Evert's station, and found that the crippled lad had heard some of the same loud snappings and crackings, but was not alarmed at them, he felt ashamed of his own fears, and casting them entirely aside, asked to see what the other was drawing.

Paul was very fond of drawing with a pencil, or bit of charcoal, or anything that came to his hand, on all sorts of surfaces, and really showed great skill in his rude sketches of the common objects about him. Since coming into the mine he had found more time to indulge his taste than ever before; and though his only light was the wretched little lamp in his cap, he had produced some beautiful copies of the dainty ferns and curious patterns imprinted on the walls about him. He had also afforded Derrick great amusement by making for him several sketches of Socrates the wise rat in various attitudes. Until this time he had never hesitated before showing his friend any of his efforts, but now he did, and it was only after much urging that he reluctantly handed Derrick the sheet of paper on which he had been working.

It was an outline sketch of the figures composing their underground picnic party of the day before, including Socrates, and Derrick had no sooner set eyes on it than he declared he must have it.

"I was doing it for you, 'Dare,'" said Paul, using his especial pet name for Derrick, which he never did except when they were alone. "But you must let me finish it, and that will take some time; there is so much to put in, and my light is so bad."

Derrick was obliged to agree to this, though he would have valued the sketch just as it was, and handing it back, he went on towards where Paul thought his father was at work. At last he found him, in a distant heading that was exhausted and about to be abandoned, engaged in the dangerous task of "robbing back."

In cutting into a vein it is often necessary to leave walls and pillars of solid coal standing to support the roof, and when the workings about them are exhausted it is customary to break away these supports for the sake of what coal they contain. This is called "robbing back," and is so dangerous a job that only the very best and most experienced miners are intrusted with it. Sometimes the roof, thus robbed of its support, falls, and sometimes it does not. If it does fall, perhaps the miner "robber" gets killed, and perhaps he escapes entirely, or with only bruises and cuts.

Tom Evert was a "company man"; that is, he received regular wages from the company owning the mine, no matter what quantity of coal he sent out, or what kind of work he was engaged upon. Most of the other men were paid so much per cubic yard, or so much by the car-load, for all the coal they mined. Evert was considered one of the best workmen in the mine, and for that reason was often employed on the most dangerous jobs. On this occasion he was "robbing back" in company with another skilful miner; but they had only one helper between them. The burly miner would have been glad to welcome any addition to their force, but he greeted Derrick with especial cordiality, for the boy was a great favorite with him.

"It does me good to see thee, lad," he exclaimed, when Derrick reported to him as helper, "and I'll be proud to have thy feyther's son working alongside of me. Pick up yon shovel and help load the wagon, while we tackle this chunk a bit more, and see if we can't fetch it."

A miner's helper has to do all kinds of work, such as running to the blacksmith's with tools that need sharpening, directing the course of drills beneath the heavy hammer blows, holding lamps in dark places, loading cars, or anything else for which he may prove useful. Shovelling coal into a car is perhaps the hardest of all, and this was what Derrick was now set at. It was hard, back-aching work, but he was fresh and strong, and he took hold of it heartily and vigorously.

Suddenly he dropped his shovel, sprang at Tom Evert who was stooping down to pick up a drill, and gave him so violent a push that he was sent sprawling on his face some little distance away. Carried forward by his own impetus, Derrick fell on top of the prostrate miner. Behind, and so close to them that they were covered with its flying splinters, crashed down the great pillar of coal, weighing several tons, that the "robbers" had been working on. It had unexpectedly given way before their efforts, and would have crushed Tom Evert beyond human recognition but for Derrick's quick eye and prompt action.

When the big miner regained his feet he appeared dazed, and seemed not to realize the full character of the danger he had so narrowly escaped. He gazed at the fallen mass for a moment, and then, appreciating what had happened, he seized Derrick's hand, and shaking it warmly, said, "That's one I owe thee, lad. Now we'll knock off, for I'll do no more 'robbing' this day."

On their way to the foot of the slope the little party met the mine boss, superintending the placing of new timbers, and taking such other precautions as his experience suggested against the effects of the "squeeze," which still continued, though less violently than when Derrick entered the mine. He was surprised at seeing them thus early, for it wanted nearly an hour of quitting-time. When he heard of Tom Evert's narrow escape, he acknowledged that they had a good excuse for knocking off, and complimented Derrick upon his presence of mind.

"By-the-way, Tom," he said, "you may quit 'robbing' for a few days. I want you and your partner to go down on the lower level and pipe off the water that's collecting in the old gangway—the one in which Job Taskar was killed, you know."

"It'll be a ticklish job, boss."

"I know it, and that's the reason I send the steadiest man in the mine to do it. It's got to be done by somebody, or else it will break through some day and flood the whole lower level."

"All right, sir; I'll do my best wi' it; but I'll be mor'n glad when it's safe done."

With this Tom Evert went on towards the slope; but Derrick stayed behind with the mine boss to learn what he might of the operation of placing the timber supports of a mine roof.

He had not watched this work long when a distant muffled sound, something like that of a blast, and yet plainly not produced by an explosion, reached their ears. Although not loud, it was an ominous, awe-inspiring sound; and Derrick would have taken to his heels and made for the bottom of the slope had not his pride kept him where he was.

To his surprise the mine boss, who had listened intently to the sound while it lasted, seemed to regard it as a most natural occurrence. Giving a few directions to his men, he turned to the boy, saying, "Come, Derrick, let us go and see what is the trouble back in there."

For an instant Derrick looked at him to see if he were really in earnest; then realizing that he was, he followed him without a word.

When they reached Paul Evert's door, the mine boss said, "It's quitting-time, Paul; so get out of this as quickly as you can. It is just possible that we may all have to run," he explained to Derrick, after Paul had obeyed his order and left them, "and in that case all those using crutches will need a good start."

Of course this did not greatly reassure Derrick, and he would gladly have followed his friend Paul had not duty commanded him to remain with his friend the mine boss.

Finally they reached the place where, less than an hour before, Derrick had been helping to "rob" the old heading; and here they discovered the cause of the sound they had heard. The roof above that entire set of workings, so far as they could judge, had fallen; and had not Tom Evert decided to quit work when he did, it is probable that no trace would ever have been found of him or those with him.

Derrick felt deeply thankful that his life had been thus preserved, as he walked thoughtfully beside the mine boss away from the scene of disaster.