As the last set of trucks passed round the “empty-way” I stepped on to the track, immediately over the No. 2 chute, in order to verify my suspicion that something was wrong. As I did so I heard a loud clattering noise, as of loaded trucks coming clown the “full-way” incline to the chute. I did not look to ascertain the cause of this noise at that moment, but an instant later I instinctively turned my head and looked up towards the entrance to the chute. Then, to my utter dismay and consternation, I saw, within a few feet, two fully-loaded trucks rushing headlong on to the No. 2 tip, where I was standing. In an instant the awful truth flashed through my brain. Only six trucks of the last set had tipped, two having become uncoupled up the incline, and here was I standing on the track immediately over the chute, without the remotest possibility of escape!
For a moment I was petrified with horror, and before I could make any arrangement the foremost of the two trucks had struck me full in the back, just above the hips, and I was precipitated violently into the chute, some twenty feet below, while at the same time, with a fearful, deafening noise, the two trucks overturned, and two tons of rock and hard blue “ground” came crashing into the chute on top of me. For a few seconds I was completely buried, but with a frantic effort I got the upper part of my body free, all the time gasping wildly for breath, while temporarily deprived of sight by the mass of falling “ground,” and nearly asphyxiated by the immense cloud of dust, which seemed to hang over the chute like a pall.
“I WAS PRECIPITATED VIOLENTLY INTO THE CHUTE.”
As I gradually gained control of my scattered senses I became aware of my miraculous escape from a terrible death, and with a shudder of horror realized that my situation was still one of extreme peril. In another second the doors of the chute would be opened, and I should either be plunged, with the great quantity of “ground” amidst which I lay, into the hoisting-skip below, or else crushed to a pulp by the next consignment of “ground” from the tip above. With almost superhuman strength I endeavoured to extricate myself from the mass of “ground” by which I was well-nigh covered, and with all the power of which I was capable I shouted vociferously for help. It was all in vain, however; my cries for assistance were lost amidst the din of the constantly-moving trucks on the level above.
PORTION OF THE HEADGEAR SHOWING THE HOISTING-SKIP (INDICATED BY A CROSS) IN WHICH WOOD MADE HIS RAPID BUT UNCOMFORTABLE JOURNEY TO THE SURFACE.
From a Photo. by J. A. Glennie, Kimberley.
Just as I made another desperate attempt to free myself I heard the ominous creak of the levers, which foretold that the slides at the bottom of the chute were about to be opened, and—quite helpless and filled with an overwhelming despair—I resigned myself to my fate; I was doomed to a death from which there could be no possible escape. My whole frame was trembling with the fear of impending death, as, with a loud creak, the slides at the bottom of the chute separated, and I felt myself violently overturned and forced irresistibly through the opening. Thence I plunged head-first into the great hoisting-skip below, amidst the thunderous crash of the eight tons of blue “ground.” In a second the sliding doors of the chute had closed, the skip was loaded, and the relentless downpour of “ground” and hard lumps ceased. I was again completely buried, but with a ferocious struggle managed to get my head uncovered.
THE ENGINE-HOUSES AND HEADGEAR WHERE WOOD WAS HOISTED TO THE SURFACE.
From a Photo. by J. A. Glennie, Kimberley.