Sappers and Miners Part 45

"I'll go," cried Dina.s.s. "Set o' cowards--ten or a dozen on you again'

one."

"Nay, there was only one again' you with bare hands and without a pick.

You go down, mate, and when you come up t'others'll see fair, and I'll show you whether I'm a coward."

"Don't I tell you I'll go?" growled Dina.s.s. "Let me get up."

"Do you mean it? No games, or it'll be the worse for you," said the miner, sternly.

"I said I'd go with them," growled Dina.s.s. "I aren't afraid, but I warn't engaged to do this sort of thing."

"You'll go, then?"

"Are you deaf? Yersss!" roared Dina.s.s; and as the miner took his foot from the prostrate man's chest another moved to the doorway to guard against retreat.

But if Dina.s.s had any intention of breaking away he did not show it. He rose to his feet, shook himself, and picking up his hat, which had been knocked off, put it on, took it off again, glanced round for one he considered suitable, s.n.a.t.c.hed it from its wearer's head, put it on his own and pitched the one he had worn to the miner he had robbed, and then stepped into the skep.

"There you are," he said. "Now, then, lower away;" and as he spoke he stooped down quickly seized the dog by the collar, and swung him out of the skep.

"Don't! Don't do that," cried Gwyn. "Let the dog come."

But his words were too late; the rail was clapped down, the engineer had seized the handle; there was a clang, a sharp blow upon a gong, and it seemed to the boys that the floor they had just left had suddenly shot up to the ceiling. Then it gave place to a glow of light dotted with heads, and amidst a low murmur of voices there rose the furious barking of a dog.

Directly after, they were conscious of the singular sensation that is felt when in a swing and descending after the rise, but in a greatly intensified way. Then the glow overhead grew fainter and smaller, and the lanthorns they held seemed to burn more brightly, while a peculiar whis.h.i.+ng, dripping noise made itself heard, telling of water oozing from some seam.

"For we always are so jolly, oh! So jolly, oh!" sang Dina.s.s in a harsh, discordant voice. "How do you like this, youngsters?"

Neither of the boys answered, but the same thought came to them both--"that their companion was singing to make a show of his courage."

"I didn't want to fight," continued Dina.s.s; "but I could have knocked that fellow Harry Vores into the middle of next week if I'd liked. I'd have come down, too, without any fuss if they'd asked me properly; but I'm not going to be bullied and driven, so I tell 'em."

Still neither Gwyn nor Joe spoke, but stood listening to the dripping water, and wondering at the easy way in which the skep went down past platform and beam, whose presence was only shown by the gleam of the wet wood as the lanthorns pa.s.sed. And still down and down for what seemed to be an interminable length of time.

They knew that they must have pa.s.sed the openings of several horizontal galleries, but they saw no signs of them, as they stood drawing their breath hard, till all at once the skep stopped, and Dina.s.s shouted boisterously,--

"Here we are; bottom. Give's hold o' one o' them lanthorns, or we shall be in the sumph."

He s.n.a.t.c.hed the lanthorn Joe carried, held it down, and stepped off the skep.

"It's all right," he said; "there's some planking here."

The two boys followed, and looked down into the black thick water of the sumph, a great tank into which the drainings of the mine ran ready for being pumped up; and now Gwyn held up his light to try and penetrate the gloom, but could only dimly trace the entrance of what appeared to be a huge, arch-roofed tunnel, and as they stepped over the rough wet granite beneath it, Dina.s.s placed a hand to the side of his mouth and uttered a stentorian hail, which went echoing and rolling along before them, to be answered quite plainly from somewhere at a distance.

A load fell from Gwyn's breast, and he uttered a sigh of relief.

"It's all right, Joe," he said. "There they are, but some distance in.

Come on."

He led the way, Joe followed, and Dina.s.s came last with the other lanthorn; and in a few minutes the great archway contracted and grew lower and lower, till it very nearly met their heads, and the sides of the place were so near that they could in places have been touched by the extended hands.

"Hold hard a moment," said Dina.s.s, after they had gone on a short distance; and as the boys turned to him wonderingly, he continued, "this here's the main lead of course, but it's sure to begin striking out directly right and left like the roots of a tree. What you've got to do's to keep to the main lead, and not go turning off either side. It's not very easy, because they're often as big as one another. That's what I wanted to say to you as one thing to mind. T'other's to keep a sharp look-out for ways downward to lower leads. There would be no railings left round here, 'cause the wood'll all have rotted away. I'd keep your light low down, and if you see a place like a square well don't step into it. You won't break your neck, 'cause it will be quite full of water, for the pumping hasn't reached down there, but you might be drowned, for it aren't likely I'm coming down after you."

"I'll take care," said Gwyn, with his voice sounding husky; and Joe nodded, with his eyes looking wild and dilated.

"That's all I wanted to say," said Dina.s.s, "so on you go."

"Give another shout," said Gwyn, "and let them know we're here."

"What for?" said the man, roughly.

"You heard what I said--to let them know we're here. They answered before, but I suppose voices travel a long way."

"Sometimes," said the man, with a strange laugh.

"Shout, then; your voice is louder than ours," said Gwyn.

"What's the good o' shouting? They're miles away somewhere."

"No, no, you heard them answer."

"No I didn't," said the man, contemptuously; "that was only eckers."

"What?" cried Gwyn, with his heart seeming to stand still.

"Eckers. Hark here."

He put his hand to his mouth, and proved the truth of his words.

"Sam!"

"_Sam_!" very softly.

"Har!"

"_Har_!"

"Dock!"

"_Dock_!"--the echo coming some moments after the calls in a peculiar weird way.

"Sam 'Ardock!" shouted Dina.s.s then, with a loudness and suddenness which made the boys start.

"_Dock_!" came back from evidently a great distance, giving such an idea of mystery and depth that the boys could hardly repress a shudder.

"Only eckers," said the man; "and as old Sam Hardock would say, 'it's a gashly great unked place,' but I think there's some tin in it. Look there and there!"

He held up the lanthorn he carried close to the roof, which sparkled with little purply-black grains running in company with a reddish bloom, as if from rouge, amongst the bright quartz of the tunnel.

"Oh, never mind the tin," cried Joe. "Pray, pray go on; we're losing time."