“And do you neither drink nor smoke, Tom?” inquired Oliver.
“Well, sur, I both smokes and drinks, but I do take ’em in moderation,” said Tom.
“Are you married?” asked Oliver, turning again to the old man.
“Iss, got a wife at hum, an’ had six child’n.”
“Don’t you find this bad air tell on your health?” he continued.
“Iss, sur. After six or seven hours I do feel my head like to split, an’ my stummik as if it wor on fire; but what can us do? we must live, you knaw.”
Bidding these men goodbye, the captain and Oliver went down to another level, and then along a series of low galleries, in some of which they had to advance on their hands and knees, and in one of them, particularly, the accumulation of rubbish was so great, and the roof so low, that they could only force a passage through by wriggling along at full length like snakes. Beyond this they found a miner and a little boy at work; and here Captain Dan pointed out to his companion that the lodes of copper and tin were rich. Glittering particles on the walls and drops of water hanging from points and crevices, with the green, purple, and yellow colours around, combined to give the place a brilliant metallic aspect.
“You’d better break off a piece of ore here,” said Captain Dan.
Oliver took a chisel and hammer from the miner, and applying them to the rock, spent five minutes in belabouring it with scarcely any result.
“If it were not that I fear to miss the chisel and hit my knuckles,” he said, “I think I could work more effectively.”