After the first day they only worked for a quarter of an hour at a time, taking an hour's rest. The pain in their arms had begun to abate. On the following day they practised striking alternately, three standing round one borer. They found this at first awkward, but by the end of the day they were able to strike in regular order, the blows falling faster after each other on to the drill.
"I think we shall do now," said Bertie. "No doubt we shall hit harder with a fortnight's practice, and shall be able to keep it up longer. However, I think that even now we have sufficient confidence in striking to be able to hold the borer without any fear of an accident."
The next day they began work early in the cellar. José volunteered to take the first turn to hold the drill.
"You understand, José, you must turn it round a little after each stroke, and in that way it will cut the hole regularly."
Harry took his place on one side of José, who sat with a leg on each side of the drill. Dias stood facing Harry, Bertie behind José holding the torch so that its light fell strongly on the head of the drill. At first the two men struck gently, but gradually, as they grew confident, increased the weight of their strokes until they were hitting with their full power. After ten minutes they stopped. "Let us look at the hole," Harry said. "How far has it got down?"
José moved his position and Harry examined the hole. "About an eighth of an inch," he said. "Let us scrape the dust out of it."
"Shall we take a spell now, Harry?" Bertie said.
"No, we will wait five minutes and then go on again, and after that we will change places with you, relieving each other every twenty minutes."
The work went on, and at the end of two hours the hole was three inches deep. Another hour and a half and the drill suddenly went down.
"We are through it," Bertie said, "and I am not sorry."