"Then Adolph Sutro come along. He was a big man was Sutro, one o' these here engineers folks talk about. He offered to build a drainage tunnel from the foot-hills o' the Carson Valley, just above the river smack into the heart o' the lode, a distance o' four miles, tappin' all the mines. He figured that, if it weren't done, all the mines'd get flooded an' all the wealth o' Comstock'd go to smash.
"Seein' things were going' so bad, the mine-owners balked at first. After a while, though, the water come in so free that they all agreed to give him two dollars a ton for all the ore raised from the mines, providin' his tunnel drained 'em all, an' providin' he fixed it so that they could get men an' material through the tunnel, instead o' having to pull it all up the shaft. It took Sutro six years to get the capital, but he got it. He begun work in '71. Toward the end o' the job the work was so hot an' tough that he doubled his rate o' wages, an' in '77, bein' eighteen years old then, I started operatin' a drill in the tunnel. I was thar on the day that we broke through."
Few engineering feats in the history of mining are more famous than the making of the Sutro Tunnel. In one of the publications of the U. S. Geological Survey, Eliot Lord has told its story of perseverance and triumph.
"Sutro's untiring zeal," wrote Lord, "kindled a like spirit in his co-workers. Changing shifts urged the drills on without ceasing; skilled timberers followed up the attack on the breast and covered the heads of the assailants like shield-bearers.
"The dump at the mouth of the tunnel grew rapidly to the proportions of an artificial plateau raised above the surrounding valley slope; yet the speed of the electric currents which exploded the blasts scarcely kept pace with the impatient anxiety of the tunnel owners to reach the lode, when the extent of the great Consolidated Virginia Bonanza was reported; for every ton raised from the lode was a loss to them of two dollars, as they thought.
"Urged on by zeal, pride, and natural covetousness, the miners cut their way indomitably towards the goal, though, at every step gained the work grew more painful and more dangerous.
"The temperature at the face of the heading, had risen from 72° (Fahr.) at the close of the year 1873 to 83° during the two following years; though in the summer of 1875 two powerful Root blowers were constantly employed in forcing air into the tunnel. At the close of the year 1876, the indicated temperature was 90° and, on the 1st of January, 1878, the men were working in a temperature of 96°.
"In spite of the air currents from the blowers, the atmosphere before the end of the year 1876 had become almost unbearably foul as well as hot. The candles flickered with a dull light and men often staggered back from their posts, faint and sickened.
"During the months preceding the junction with the Savage Mine, the heading was cut with almost passionate eagerness. The miners were then two miles from the nearest ventilating shaft, and the heat of their working chamber was fast growing too intense for human endurance.
"The pipe which applied compressed air to the drills was opened at several points and the blowers were worked to their utmost capacity. Still the mercury rose from 98° on the 1st of March 1878 to 109° on the 22nd of April, and the temperature of the rock face of the heading increased from 110° to 114°. Four shifts a day were worked instead of three, and the men could only work during a small portion of their nominal hours of labor.