Vagabond Life in Mexico

by Gabriel Ferry

I advanced with all caution; for, left without a guide in this labyrinth, I did not know which way to go. I soon heard in the distance the dull sound of the pickaxes with which they were hewing away the rock, mingled with mysterious noises which seemed to come from a lower gallery. These sounds, though very indistinct, served to guide me. Since entering the mine, I had seen only those passages in which the ore had been all extracted. I was now impatient to behold a spot in which the miners were actually at work. Such a locality is called the labor—that is to say, the place where they are following the vein of silver. A dusky, obscure glimmer indicated that the proximity of the place was not far off; and I soon reached the orifice of a shaft not very deep, from which a strong light proceeded. I descended it by means of a wooden ladder placed zigzag. I hesitated at first to trust myself to this rickety ladder; but, emboldened by the shallowness of the shaft, I ventured to descend, and arrived safely at the bottom. A passage about five feet wide, and six hundred in length, conducted me along this underground hive, the air in which was as hot and stifling as if it had left the mouth of a crater. Lost in the midst of this crowd of workmen, who were too busy to notice my presence, I could examine at my ease the fantastic tableau which there met my eyes. A number of candles, stuck to the walls, threw a dull, confused light upon the miners, the greater portion of whom, up to their waists in water, were attacking the living rock with vigorous strokes of their barretas. Others trudged off loaded with sacks of ore, the weight of which brought their muscles into tension, while the lighted rush-light which they carried upon their heads shone full upon their bronzed bodies, trickling with sweat, and their long floating hair. The sharp sound of the pickaxes striking the rock—the splash of the stones in the water—the voices of the miners—their shrill cries, and wheezy breathings, seemed at times to shake the very vault. The reddish glare of the candles reflected in the water—the dust—the vapor, which filled the place like a mist—the coppery veins which ran in all directions through the rock, all combined to increase the singularity of the spectacle.

After spending there a considerable time, I resolved to make my way to a lower gallery, at the end of which I was to meet the old miner. The ascent I was to make from that place did not seem so perilous as I at first imagined, and I should, besides, be saved going over the same ground. I requested one of the miners to conduct me to this place, as I feared to lose my way in the maze, the paths crossing and recrossing each other in all directions. I began, also, to feel the necessity of breathing a purer air, and followed my new guide with pleasure.

I went down an inclined plane so long that the joints of my legs knocked together, and arrived at last, worn out and breathless, at the extremity of the last gallery, which formed a right angle with the grand shaft, whose black mouth yawned right at my feet. This shaft was carried down still lower. The miner had not yet arrived. To a solitary workman, who seemed to have been forgotten in these vast catacombs, was assigned a most dangerous and frightful task. Close at hand, another shaft full of water was in process of being slowly emptied by means of an enormous bag of ox-hide attached to the cable of the malacate. When full, it was raised by means of the invisible machine twelve hundred feet above; but, being violently drawn in an oblique direction toward the axis of the grand shaft, the bag, distended with water, was in danger of being cut against the sharp rocks, had not the workman deadened the impulse it had received from the first motion of the malacate. On a narrow space between the two pits, in the midst of almost utter darkness, the peon held on to a double rope passed round the cable, whose two extremities he held in his hands; then, as he was pulled with a fearful rapidity to the mouth of the gulf, he let go all at once one of the ends of the rope, and the bag struck the opposite side of the rock very gently; but, had he made one false step, or let go the rope a second too late, he would have been dashed down an almost unfathomable abyss. I regarded the unhappy wretch who, every quarter of an hour during the whole day, hazarded his life for scanty wages with a feeling of pity and commiseration.

The bag had already ascended and descended four times; that is to say, an hour had elapsed, and not a single person had yet appeared. I must confess that, at the sight of the dark, gloomy shaft which I had to ascend, I felt my spirits sink somewhat; and as the old miner did not make his appearance, I pardoned him in my heart with a good grace, when, through the thick darkness, the cable of the malacate came in sight. A feeble glimmer lighted up the damp walls, and a voice, which was not unknown to me, called out,

"Halloo! friend, is there not a gentleman waiting here to go up by the tiro?"

I had scarcely answered that I was ready than a packet fell at my feet. I untied mechanically the cord which encircled it. The parcel contained a vest, trowsers of thick wool, a leathern baton, and a kind of plaited rope made of the bark of the aloe. I asked in some terror if the vest and trowsers were quite sufficient to deaden a fall of twelve hundred feet. As for the leathern baton and the plaited strap, I guessed their use at once. The workmen near me described the use of each of these articles. The woolen clothing was to keep me from being wet by the water, which shot forth in fine rain at certain places in the shaft. I was to attach myself to the cable by means of the plaited strap, and the baton was to prevent me from being dashed to pieces on the rock by the oscillations of the rope.

"Make haste!" cried my invisible guide; "we have no time to lose."

I put on the clothes with all speed, drew the cable toward me, and grasped it firmly with my hands, crossing my legs likewise over it. The peon passed the strap twice or thrice round my body and under my thighs, so as to form a kind of seat, tied the two ends firmly to the cable, and placed the baton in my hands. He had scarcely finished ere I felt myself lifted from the ground by an invisible power. I spun round three or four times, and, when I recovered from my astonishment, found myself already swinging over the gulf. A little above my head I perceived the legs of my guide, who was grasping the cable tightly. Although he carried a torch, I could discover but imperfectly his copper body, half naked, which, at certain moments, gleamed like Florentine bronze. However, I could make out his words quite well.

"Am I well enough tied to the cable, do you think?" I asked, seeing that not a single knot or roughness in the rope could prevent the strap that bound me from slipping to the bottom.