Derrick Sterling: A Story of the Mines

by Kirk Munroe

In a voice that sounded loud and stern as compared with his ordinary gentle tone, Paul commanded the runaways to stop and return at once. They hesitated a moment and then obeyed him. He ordered the boy who lay upon the floor to cease his outcries and get up. Then the little fellow approached as close to the air-shaft as he dared, and lying down, with his head beyond its edge, he listened. In a moment he was rewarded for his pains, for he heard a faint moan. There came another more distinctly, and he knew that wherever Bill Tooley was he was still alive, and might possibly be saved.

Taking the lamp from his cap, and the coil of line from about his neck, where it seemed to have been placed for this very emergency, he tied the one to an end of the other and gently lowered it into the shaft. Before doing this he ordered two of the boys to hold him tightly by the legs, and thus prevent him from slipping over the edge. Quieted, and with some of their courage restored by his coolness, they did as he directed, and held him with so firm a grip that for many days afterwards his legs bore black and blue imprints of their fingers.

As the little lamp swung downward the draught of air caused it to flare and flicker as though it were about to be extinguished, but it was nearly full of oil, and the wick had just been pricked up, so it continued to burn and throw an uncertain light upon the glistening masses of coal that formed the sides of the shaft. It had not been lowered more than ten feet when its feeble rays disclosed a dark object, apparently suspended in mid-air, in the centre of the shaft. It was Bill Tooley, and Paul saw that by some means his downward plunge had been arrested, and that he was now clinging to an invisible support.

Hastily pulling up the lamp, Paul replaced it on his cap, and doubling his line, made one end of it fast to an old timber prop or support of the gangway roof that stood a short distance from the shaft. Knotting the loose end about his body, and bidding the boys place one of the old logs close to the edge of the shaft and hold it there to prevent the rope from being chafed or cut, the brave little hump-backed lad, who, like most of those in his condition, was unusually strong in his arms, swung himself into the dark hole. Down he slid into the blackness, slowly and cautiously, until he came to the object of his search. It was Bill Tooley's limp body hanging across a stout timber brace, which, extending from side to side of the shaft and firmly bedded in its walls at each end, had been left there by the miners who cut this air-channel.

As Paul's withered leg was of no assistance to him in clinging to the timber, he lashed himself securely to it before attempting to do anything for the boy who had so recently been his enemy and tormentor, and was now dependent upon his efforts for even a chance for life. Bill was not unconscious, though so weak from pain and fright as to be nearly helpless. Under the influence of Paul's cheering words, and after the line had been securely fastened about his body, he was induced to let go his desperate hold of the timber and grasp the rope. Then Paul called out to the boys above to pull up very slowly and carefully, as the least carelessness might result in dashing both Bill and him to the bottom of the shaft.

Bill Tooley was a heavy weight for the frightened boys at the top to manage, and several times, even in the short distance of ten feet, his upward progress was arrested, and Paul feared that they were about to let him slip back. Obeying his instructions, two of the boys walked away with the rope, instead of trying to pull up hand-over-hand, while the other two held the log at the edge in place, and made ready to catch hold of Bill's arm as soon as he should come within reach.

Finally his head appeared above the surface, and he was dragged, screaming with pain, over the edge, and laid groaning on the floor of the gangway. Then the rope was again lowered to the brave little fellow who was clinging in perfect darkness—for his light had at length blown out—to the timber brace in the shaft. He was drawn to the surface much more quickly and easily than Bill Tooley had been; but when he found himself once more in safety, a reaction from the nervous strain of the past half-hour set in. Throwing himself down beside Bill, he began to sob so violently as to greatly astonish the boys, who beheld but could not comprehend this weakness in one whose strong will had but a minute before so completely mastered theirs.

In a few moments Paul recovered his composure sufficiently to ask two of the boys to go to the chamber at the foot of the slope and procure assistance to carry Bill Tooley, who was evidently unable to walk. After a long delay these two returned, in company with several miners, who brought a stretcher such as is often kept in coal mines in readiness for the accidents that are so common to them.

From what the messenger boys had told them, these men knew most of the facts connected with the accident. They were so loud in their praise of Paul for his brave deed that he became greatly confused, though it must be confessed that praise from these great strong men, any one of whom would be proud to have done what he had, sounded very pleasantly to the crippled lad. In order to have a little time to think it all over, he hobbled on ahead of the others, who moved but slowly with their burden.

When he was thus alone with his thoughts, Paul suddenly remembered the object for which he had entered the mine. It had been completely lost sight of in the excitement of the past hour, but now he realized that they had discovered nothing concerning Derrick's fate. He grew faint and cold at the remembrance of the air-shaft. Did his dear friend's body lie at the bottom of it? He trembled as he thought how very possibly this might be the case, and waiting for the men to overtake him, he asked if they knew anything of Derrick Sterling.