I expect to die some time; but fervently hope and pray, that my existence may not be terminated by suffocation—either by means of a rope, or otherwise. I profess to have a horror of that mode of death: for the simple reason that I have made trial of it, and found the sensation anything but pleasant.
While at Mount Blackwood, I worked a claim in company with three others.
I was taken into this partnership, by a man I had known at Ballarat. He went by the name of “Yorkey”—from his being a Yorkshireman—and was the only one of the “firm” with whom I formed much acquaintance.
I was at work in a tunnel of the claim, where we had not used sufficient caution in supporting the top of the tunnel with timber.
Although the shaft was not a wide one, the earth being a little damp, and composed of loose shingle, required propping up. As I had neglected this, about a cart load of the shingle fell down, burying me completely under it.
The weight upon my limbs was so great, that I could not move them; and I lay as if I had been chained to the spot.
At the time, two of my mining partners were also below, working in another part of the tunnel. Of course they heard the little earthquake, and came to my assistance.
The task of digging me out, proved more difficult than they expected: for there was not room for both my mates to work at the same time—besides, they could not handle either pick or shovel to any great effect, lest they might injure my limbs.
We had been called up for dinner; and I was on the point of climbing out of the tunnel, just at the moment the earth fell in.
Our mates above, had grown impatient at our delay; and commenced shouting for us to come up. I heard one of those below responding to them. I could not understand what he said; but afterwards learnt, that he was merely telling them what had happened.