by Ian Hay
CHAPTER TWENTY.
BLACK SUNDAY.
The search party had concluded its investigations, and stood at thefoot of the shaft, which fortunately had not been injured by thedistant explosion, waiting for the cage.
A pit-bottom is an unexpectedly spacious place, more resembling thecellars of a ducal mansion, or a city station in the days of the oldunder-ground, than a burrow in the hidden places of the earth.Whitewashed brick archways open up long vistas, illuminated byelectric lamps. Through an adjacent doorway streams the cheerful glowof the engine-room, from which the haulage of the trucks iscontrolled. Only in the "sump," below the level of the flooring at thefoot of the shaft, the water gleams black and dismally.
"Is there any other road to explore, Mr Walker?" asked a huge man inblue overalls, with a patent breathing apparatus strapped upon hisback.
"No, Sir John. All we can do at present is to get the ventilating geargoing again, and then send down a double shift to get to work on themain road, in the hope of finding some one alive at the end of it.Meanwhile we will go up and look at the pit-plan."
"How long do you think it will take to get through? You know more ofthe geography of this pit than I do."
"It depends on how far the roof is down. It will be slow work, for wemust re-prop as we go. Twenty yards an hour is about the best we canexpect to do, working top-notch all the time. And if the road isblocked from end to end, as well it may be, it will be a question ofdays, Sir John."
"And in Number Three they have neither food nor drink?"
"Neither, to our knowledge. Probably they have a little water, though.We must get at them double quick. Here is the cage coming down."
The cage roared upwards between the wooden guides, black with long useand glistening with oil and water; and presently the party were backin the great shed which covered the pit-head, pushing their waythrough anxious inquirers to the office buildings.
Leaving the other members of the search party--an overman and twohewers--to report progress, Sir John and his manager shut themselvesinto the inner office. Here Walker unrolled the pit-plan, which, withits blocks and junctions and crossings, looked very like an ordinarystreet map.
"Here we are," he said. "We have been able to explore the whole pitexcept this part here"--he dug the point of his pencil into a distantcorner--"and the reason is that the means of access to that particularlevel are blocked. Here is where the block begins." The pencil swiftlyshaded in a section. "There is the intake, all blown to smithereens;that and the road to Number Three. But if there are men alive in thepit, Number Three is where we shall find them."
"Do you believe that they are alive?" asked Juggernaut.
"I do. It seems incredible that the whole roof should have come down.We must get the ventilating plant in order and dig them out; that'sthe only way. We should be able to start work immediately."
"Right!" said Juggernaut, bracing himself at the blessed thought ofaction once more. "I'll call for volunteers."
A minute later, appearing at a brilliantly lit window, he addressedthe silent throng below him. To most of them this was the secondspeech that they had received from him in twelve hours.
"We have been down the pit," he said. "There has been a biggishexplosion, and Number Three is cut off by a heavy fall. The air belowwill be breathable in less than an hour, and we are going to set towork right away, and clear, and clear, and clear until we find outwhether there is any one left alive there. Now,"--his voice rang outin sudden and irresistible appeal--"we want _men_, and plenty of them.Short shifts and high pressure! Those poor fellows have very littlewater, no food, and a doubtful air supply. I ask for volunteers. Whowill come down? Step forward--now!"
A gentle ripple passed over the sea of upturned faces. Then it diedaway. The distance between the speaker and his entire audience haddiminished by one pace.
"Thank you!" said Juggernaut simply. "I knew I had only to ask. MrWalker, will you call the overmen together and get going as soon aspossible?"
A few hours earlier the men of Belton had failed in an enterprise forlack of a leader. Now they had found one.
* * * * *
Sir John Carr drove the first shovel into the mass which blocked themain road, and for the space of thirty minutes he set a standard ofpace in the work of rescue which younger and more supple successorsfound it hard to maintain.
Shift followed shift.
Sunday morning dawned up above, and the sun swung into a cloudlessApril sky, but still the work below went on--grim, untiring,unprofitable work. Hope deferred succeeded to hope deferred.
Twenty-four hours of blind energy advanced the rescuers three or fourhundred yards, but there seemed to be no end to the fall. Progress wasgrowing slower too, for the excavated material had to be carried backfarther every time. Once during the second night word was sent up theshaft that two men had been hurt through a fresh fall in the roof,over-eagerness being the cause. Still the work went on. And so BlackSunday drew to a close, to be succeeded by a Monday of a very similarhue.
