Picked up at Sea Part 9

The young engineer nodded an affirmative reply.

"Black mould--gravel--sand and clay--black sand by itself--and then quartz reef," replied Seth, laconically, repeating the words as if he were saying a lesson he had learnt from a book.

"And what have you got to now?" continued Ernest Wilton, pursuing his inquiry.

"Water," said Seth Allport in the same laconic way.

Ernest Wilton's face fell, albeit he had previously felt inclined to smile at the ex-mate's queer manner and abrupt speech.

Water! It was the cruellest, most persistent enemy with whom the miner has to deal. Foul air and gas can be got rid of, but water, proceeding from invisible springs, ever welling up, and the more the quant.i.ty pumped up the greater the yield from the inexhaustible fountains of the earth, was an opponent that could not be conquered, an enemy of the most potent powers for ill indeed--a very vampire that sucked the blood of energy.

Delving down, day after day, with superhuman exertions, through the various strata, they had met with no sight as yet of that rich vein of gold which they confidently hoped to encounter, although there were occasional traces of an auriferous deposit here and there to encourage them on, their hopes and hearts had never failed them until now. No wonder that Ernest Wilton's arrival was hailed as an omen of good luck; and that he was regarded by all as having arrived "just in the nick of time" to extricate them from their difficulty!

"How long is it since you met with water?" asked the young engineer, before he descended the shaft in order to inspect the works personally below.

Mr Rawlings answered this time, while Seth Allport and Noah Webster confirmed his statements by their looks, which were expressive enough!

"That is a question that none of us can reply to satisfactorily."

Ernest Wilton was surprised. He thought he had made one of the simplest inquiries possible; and he looked his astonishment at the answer given him before he said anything more. The idea of a practical man, as he regarded Mr Rawlings, speaking so!

"How is that?" said he, after a pause. "I should think you would have no trouble in telling me?"--and he looked from Mr Rawlings to Seth Allport with some curiosity.

"Some things that appear simple enough," said Mr Rawlings somewhat pragmatically, "are more difficult to answer, my clear fellow, than most people would think; and you ought to know that from your engineering experience!"

"Certainly," replied the other; "but here's a mine with men working in it from day to day, and digging through each separate stratum in turn, and knowing at the close of each day the result of that day's labour.

Surely, one would think that the day on which they struck water they would not forget it?"

"Granted, my dear fellow," answered Mr Rawlings, who dearly loved a bit of argument when he could come across a foeman worthy of his steel. "I accede in toto to your premises; but your deduction is somewhat a little too rapid, for there are other circ.u.mstances to be considered which I have not yet brought to your notice, and which, I have no doubt, will alter your decision."

"By Jove!" said Ernest Wilton, with a laugh, "I must treat it as a conundrum, and give it up. I am certain that I cannot solve it."

"Stop a minute," said Mr Rawlings, "and you'll soon see how it is.

During the winter we had a hard time of it to keep the roof of our house over our head, let alone preserving the mine in working order! The snow, the ice, the stormy gales, that seem to haunt the vicinity of the Rocky Mountains and their outlying ranges, each in turn a.s.sailed us: and then, on the melting of the snow at the first breath of approaching spring, the floods, which were the most virulent antagonists with whom we had to grapple, almost overwhelmed us! There was 'water, water everywhere,' as Coleridge says in his 'Ancient Mariner.' The whole valley, almost as far as you can see, was one vast foaming torrent, that bore down all our puny protections in the shape of ramparts and stockades. It nearly swept away our rough dwelling bodily; it did more, it demolished the dam we had erected across the gulch just there,"-- pointing to the spot as he spoke--"and wrecked the heading of the shaft, filling the mine as a matter of course."

"And up to then, in spite of all your digging, you had met with no water?" asked Ernest Wilton. "Was that so?"

"Not a drop, which I very much wondered at, considering that we are almost in the centre of the tributaries of the Cheyenne and Missouri-- any number of tiny streams rising amongst these hills, and gaining additional body as they proceed onward to join the greater rivers from fresh sources that cross their course at different angles."

"And after the floods?"

"Why, we set to work like men, I can tell you:--Seth, there, will bear me out."

"We did so, sirree," said that worthy, with a most emphatic nod.

"Yes," continued Mr Rawlings, "we first renovated the dam, and dug out a channel for the overplus of water on either side of the shaft; and then we started pumping out the mine."

"An' it were a job!" said Seth, taking up the thread of the story.

"I've been in a vessel as sprung a leak, and where the hands were pumping day and night, with nary a spell off, so as to kip a plank atween us and the bottom of Davy Jones's looker; but, never, in all my born days, have I seed sich pumpin' as went on in that thaar week!"

"As Seth says," resumed Mr Rawlings, "we were like mariners pumping at the hold of a water-logged s.h.i.+p, as if for life. We pumped, and pumped, and pumped; but, in spite of all our efforts, only succeeded in just keeping the enemy in check, that's all."

"Can't get the mine dry, eh?"

"No, not for any length of time. What we gain in the day, we lose again at night. In concise terms, I may put it, that by keeping the hose constantly at work, which of course interrupts the progress of excavation, we barely manage to hold our own, neither gaining nor losing an inch."

"That's a bad lookout!" said Ernest Wilton, shaking his head.

It was. It meant ruin to all their hopes and expectations; the inglorious end of the expedition; the sacrifice of all their toil and perseverance throughout those terribly arduous winter months; their waste of energy in struggling with the powers of nature. It meant all that, and more!

Such a state of things would never do to last.

Difficulties were only made for men to overcome, according to the maxim which had hitherto guided Mr Rawlings and Seth Allport, and which they had preached to the more faint-hearted members of their party; and, Ernest Wilton was a thorough disciple of their creed, for he was not one to be daunted by obstacles, no matter how grievous and apparently insurmountable they were;--no, not he.

The young engineer went down the mine to look for himself, and to form his own opinion as to what was best to be done in the emergency.

He went down looking grave enough, but he returned with a more hopeful expression on his face, which at once cheered up the somewhat despondent spirits of those awaiting him above--for he preferred descending alone.

"Well?" inquired Mr Rawlings, interrogatively.

"It might be worse," said the young engineer smiling.

"That sounds good," said Seth Allport, his countenance, which had previously been grimmer than ever, beaming over its whole expanse, as if the sun was trying to s.h.i.+ne through overhanging clouds and fog. Seth's phiz was as expressive as a barometer any clay.

"I think I see a way out of the difficulty," said Ernest Wilton to ease their anxiety, which he could readily sympathise with after what he had seen.

"I am sure you would not say so unless you had some hopes of its success," said Mr Rawlings, whom the good news seemed to affect more than all the previous trials had done, for he looked quite pale, and almost trembled with eagerness as he questioned the bearer of the welcome tidings.

"No," said Ernest Wilton joyously, for he was very glad to be able to communicate the intelligence to those who had succoured him in his own distress, and now appealed to him for a.s.sistance. "There's a chance for the mine yet; and you need not despair of having spent your toil in vain."

"Bully for you!" exclaimed Seth Allport. "Didn't I say now--ask anybody present if I didn't anyhow--that you'd brought us good luck?"

"I rejoice to hear you say so," said Mr Rawlings, a little more calmly, although his whole fortune had been at stake, as it were; for if the mine had turned out a failure he would have been ruined, and had to begin the world over again. "It would have been hard that all our labour should have gone for nothing."

"Well, my dear sir," said Ernest Wilton cheerfully, "you need not complain now. It is not a case with you of 'Love's labour lost,' as in Shakespeare's play of that t.i.tle."

STORY ONE, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

COUNTERMINING.

"What do you think of doing?" asked Mr Rawlings, drawing a long breath of relief on hearing Ernest Wilton's cheering words. "We have tried almost everything to stop the flow of water and failed--Seth and I; and although you appear so sanguine, I hardly see what can be done, myself."

And he sighed again, as if he were returning to his previous state of despondency.

"Did you ever hear the old Irish saying that 'there's more ways of killing a pig besides hanging him?'" asked Ernest Wilton, instead of answering the other's question at once.

"Yes," laughingly replied Mr Rawlings.