Well, Jack, whats doing? asked the captain.
The man cast a disconsolate look on a large mass of rock which lay in the middle of the path at his feet. He had been only too successful in his last blasting, and had detached a mass so large that he could not move it.
Its too hard for to break, Captain Dan.
Better get it into the truck, said the captain.
Cant lift it, sur, said the man, who grudged to go through the tedious process of boring it for a second blast.
You must get it out o that, Jack, at all events. It wont do to let it lie there, said the captain, passing on, and leaving the miner to get out of his difficulty as best he might.
A few minutes more and they came on a pare of men (in other words, a band of two or more men working together) who were stopeing-in the back of the level, as they termed the process of cutting upwards into the roof.
Theres a fellow in a curious place! said Oliver, peering up through an irregular hole, in which a man was seen at work standing on a plank supported by a ladder. He was chiselling with great vigour at the rock over his head, and immediately beyond him another man stood on a plank supported by a beam of timber, and busily engaged in a similar occupation. Both men were stripped to the waist, and panted at their toil. The little chamber or cavern in which they worked was brilliantly illuminated by their two candles, and their athletic figures stood out, dark and picturesque, against the light glistering walls.
A curious place, and a singular man! observed the captain; that fellows family is not a small one.Hallo! James Martin.
Hallo! Captain Dan, replied the miner, looking down.
How many children have you had?
How many childn say ee?
Ay, how many?
Ive had nineteen, sur, an theres eight of em alive. Seven of em came in three year an six months, surthree doubles an a single, but them uns are all gone dead, sur.
How old are you, Jim?
Forty-seven, sur.
Your brother Tom is at work here, isnt he?
Iss, in the south level, drivin the end.
How many children has Tom had, Jim?
Seventeen, sur, an seven of ems alive; but Toms only thirty-eight years old, sur.3
Good-morning, Jim.
Good-morning, Captain Dan, replied the sturdy miner, resuming his work.
Good specimens of men these, said the captain, with a quiet smile, to Oliver. Of course I dont mean to say that all the miners hereabouts are possessed of such large familiesnevertheless there are, as I dare say you have observed, a good many children in and about St. Just!
Proceeding onward they diverged into a branch level, where a number of men were working overhead; boring holes into the roof and burrowing upwards. They all drove onwards through flinty rock by the same slow and toilsome process that has already been describednamely, by chipping with the pick, driving holes with the borer, and blasting with gunpowder.
As the Captain and Oliver traversed this part of the mine they had occasionally to squeeze past small iron trucks which stood below holes in the sides of the level, down which ever and anon masses of ore and débris came from the workings above with a hard crashing noise. The ore was rich with tin, but the metal was invisible to any but trained eyes. To Oliver Trembath the whole stuff appeared like wet rubbish.
Suddenly a low muffled report echoed through the cavernous place. It was followed by five or six similar reports in succession.
They are blasting, said Captain Dan.
As he spoke, the thick muddy shoes and brick-dust legs of a man appeared coming down the hole that had previously discharged ore. The man himself followed his legs, and, alighting thereon, saluted Captain Dan with a free-and-easy Good-morning. Another man followed him; from a different part of the surrounding darkness a third made his appearance, and others came trooping in, until upwards of a dozen of them were collected in the narrow tunnel, each with his tallow candle in his hand or hat, so that the place was lighted brilliantly. They were all clad in loose, patched, and ragged clothes. All were of a uniform rusty-red colour, each with his broad bosom bared, and perspiration trickling down his besmeared countenance.