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Sappers and Miners; The Flood beneath the Sea, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 46. A Dog's Opinion |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY SIX. A DOG'S OPINION But Tom Dinass did not go to the office for his promised money, neither was he seen by anyone; and Gwyn began to doubt the truth of the report till it was confirmed by Harry Vores, who stated that his "Missus" saw the man go into a lawyer's office, and that there was the name on the brass plate, "Dix." This recalled the visit they had had from a man of that name. "Perhaps he is dealing with mines, and can give people work," thought Gwyn; and then the matter passed out of his mind. Friday morning came, and directly after breakfast the two young fellows met, Gwyn provided with a basket of provender, his hammer, chisel and some magnesium ribbon, while Joe had brought an extra-powerful oil lanthorn. "Ready?" "Yes; I've told father I shall be late," said Joe. "So have I, and my mother, too. Seen anything of Tom Dinass? No?" "But--oh, I say!" "Well, say it," cried Gwyn. "What about Grip?" "Quite well, thank you for your kind inquiries, but he says he feels the cold a little in his legs." "Don't fool," said Joe, testily. "You're not going to leave the dog?" "Why not?" "Tom Dinass." Gwyn whistled. "Soon put that right," he said. "We'll take him with us. He'll enjoy the run." There was no doubt about that, for the dog was frantic with delight, and as soon as he was unchained he raced before them to the mouth of the pit, as readily as if he understood where they were going. Sam Hardock was waiting, and he rubbed his nose on seeing the dog. "I did advise you, sir, to keep him chained up while there's danger about," he grumbled. "Won't be any danger down below, Sam," said Gwyn cheerily. "What? Eh? You mean to take him with us? Oh, I see. But won't he get chopped going down?" "Not if I carry him." "Nay, sir," said the man, seriously, "you mustn't venture on that." "Well, I'm going to take him down," said Gwyn. "I know," said Joe, eagerly; "send him down in the skep." "Ay, ye might do that, sir," said Hardock, nodding. "Would he stop, sir?" "If I tell him," said Gwyn; and, an empty skep being hooked on just then, the engineer grinned as Gwyn went to it and bade the dog jump in. Grip obeyed on the instant, and then, as his master did not follow, he whined, and made as if to leap out. "Lie down, sir. Going down. Wait for us at the bottom." The dog couched, and the engineer asked if he'd stay. "Oh, yes, he'll stay," said Gwyn. Then, obeying a sudden impulse, he took his basket, and placed it beside the dog at the bottom of the iron skep. "Watch it, Grip!" he cried, and the dog growled. "He wouldn't leave that." "Till every morsel's devoured," said Joe. Then click went the break, a bell rang, and the skep descended, while the little party stepped one by one on to the man-engine, and began to descend by jumps and steps off, lower and lower, till in due time the bottom was reached, where Grip sat watching the basket just inside the great archway, the skep he had descended in having been placed on wheels, and run off into the depths of the mine, while a full one had taken its place and gone up. Then the party started off with their candles and the big lamp, first along by the tram line, after Sam Hardock had peered into a big, empty sumph, and then on and on, past where many men were busy chipping, hammering, and tamping the rock to force out masses of ore, while, before they had gone half-a-mile, there was a tremendous volley of echoes, which seemed as if they would never cease, and the party received what almost seemed a blow, so heavy was the concussion. But neither Gwyn nor Joe started, and the dog, who had gone ahead, merely came trotting back to look at his master, and then bounded off again into the darkness, as if certain that there was a cat somewhere ahead which ought to be hunted out of the mine. Familiarity had bred contempt; and fully aware that the noise was only the firing of a shot to dislodge some of the ore for shovelling into the iron skeps, they went on without a word. They must have been a couple of miles from the shaft, every turn of the way being marked with a whitewash arrow, when Hardock stopped to trim his light, and his example was followed by his companions, the result of their halting being that Grip came trotting back out of the darkness to look up inquiringly, and then, satisfied with his examination, he bounded off again to find that imaginary cat. He soon came rushing back, though, on finding that he was not followed; for, after turning to give his companions a meaning nod, Hardock suddenly turned down a narrow opening which joined the gallery they were following at a sharp angle, and then went on, nearly doubling back over the ground they had traversed before. Then came a series of zigzags, and these were so confusing that at the end of a few hundred yards neither Gwyn nor Joe could have told the direction in which they were going. "Never been here before, gen'lemen?" said Hardock, with a grin. "No; this is quite fresh," said Gwyn, consulting a pocket compass. "Leads west then." "Sometimes, sir; but it jiggers about all sorts of ways. Ah, there's a deal of the mine yet that we haven't seen." "Rises a little, too," said Joe. "Yes, sir; slopes up just a little--easy grajent, as the big engineers call it." "But you said it was natural, and not cut out by following a vein," said Gwyn. "There are chisel-marks all along here." "Hav'n't got to the place I mean yet, sir. Good half-mile on." "And farther from the shaft?" "Well, no, sir, because it bears away to the right, and I've found a road round to beyond that big centre place with the bits that support the roof." "Well, go on then," said Gwyn; "one gets tired of always going along these passages." "Oughtn't to, sir, with all these signs of branches of tin lode--I don't." "But one can have too much tin, Sam," said Joe, laughing; and they went steadily on along the narrow passage, which grew more straight, till there was only just room for them to walk in single file. "Been getting thin here, gen'lemen," said Hardock; "sign the ore was getting to an end. Look, there's where it branched off, and there, and there, going off to nothing like the roots of a tree. Now, just about a hundred yards farther, and you'll see a difference." But it proved to be quite three hundred, and the way had grown painfully narrow and stiflingly hot; when all at once Grip began to bark loudly, and the noise, instead of sounding smothered and dull, echoed as if he were in a spacious place. So it proved, for the narrow passage suddenly ceased and the party stepped out into a wide chasm, whose walls and roof were invisible, and the air felt comparatively cool and pleasant. "There you are, Mr Gwyn, sir," said Hardock, as he stood holding up his light, but vainly, for it showed nothing beyond the halo which it shed. "I call this a bit o' nature, sir. You won't find any marks on the walls here." "I can't even see the walls," said Joe. "Here, Grip, where are you?" The dog barked in answer some distance away, and then came scampering back. "Oh, here's one side, sir," said Hardock, taking a few steps to his left, and once more holding up his light against a rugged mass of granite veined with white quartz, and glistening as if studded with gems. "How beautiful!" cried Joe. "Let's throw a light on the subject," said Gwyn, merrily. "Open your lanthorn, Joe;" and as this was done he lit the end of a piece of magnesium ribbon, which burned with a brilliant white light and sent up a cloud of white fumes to rise slowly above their heads. The light brightened the place for a minute, and in that brief interval the two friends feasted their eyes upon the crystal-hung roof and walls of the lovely grotto, whose sides rose to about forty feet above their heads, and then joined in a correct curve that was nearly as regular as if it had been the work of some human architect. A hundred feet away the roof sank till it was only two or three yards above the irregular floor, and the place narrowed in proportion, while where they stood the walls were some fifty feet apart. Then the ribbon gave one flash, and was dropped on the floor, to be succeeded by a black darkness, out of which the lanthorns shed what seemed to be three dim sparks. "What do you think of it, gen'lemen?" said Hardock, from out of the black darkness. "Grand! Lovely! Beautiful! I never saw anything like it," cried Gwyn. "Why, it must be the most valuable part of the mine," cried Joe. Hardock chuckled. "It's just the part, sir, as is worth nothing except for show," he said. "It's very pretty, but there isn't an ounce o' tin to a ton o' working here, sir, and--" His words were checked by a faintly-heard muffled roar, which was followed by a puff of moist air and the customary whispering sound of echoes; but before they had died away Grip set up his ears, passed right away into the darkness, and barked with all his might. "Quiet, sir!" cried Gwyn; but the dog barked the louder. "Kick him, Ydoll; it's deafening," cried Joe. "Didn't that shot sound rather rum to you?" said Hardock. "Oh, I don't know," replied Gwyn, who was slow to take alarm. "Sounded like a shot and the echoes." "Nay; that's what it didn't sound like," said Hardock, scratching his head. "It was sharper and shorter like, and we didn't ought to hear it like that all this distance away." "Isn't the roof of the mine fallen in, is it?" said Gwyn, maliciously, as he watched the effect of his words on his companions. "You, Grip, if you don't be quiet, I'll rub your head against the rough wall." "Nay, this roof'll never fall in, sir," said Hardock, thoughtfully. "More it's pushed the tighter it grows." "Well, let's get some of the crystals," said Gwyn; "though it does seem a pity to break the walls of such a lovely place. But we must have some. Be quiet, Grip!" "Let's have some lunch first," said Joe. "Nay, gen'lemen," said Hardock, whose face looked clay-coloured in the feeble light. "I don't think we'll stop for no crystals, nor no lunch, to-day, for, I don't want to scare you, but I feel sure that there's something very wrong." "Wrong! What can be wrong?" cried Gwyn, quickly. "That's more than I can say, sir," replied the man; "but we've just heard something as we didn't ought to hear; and if you've any doubt about it, look at that dog." "You're not alarmed at the barking of a dog?" cried Gwyn, contemptuously. "No, no, not a bit; but dogs have a way of knowing things that beats us. He's barking at something he knows is wrong, and it's that which makes me feel scared though I don't know what it is." _ |
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