Samuel passed David Adams, who was still a trapper, on his way to his trap. David asked after Dick.
“He’ll be down with us in a few days, I hope,” was the answer, in a cheerful tone.
Nearly two hundred human beings were toiling away down in those long, narrow passages. Some with pick-axes were getting out the huge lumps of coal from the solid vein, others were breaking them up and shovelling them into the baskets. The putters were dragging or pushing the baskets towards a main road, where they were received by the “crane-hoister,” who, with his crane, lifted them on the rolley-wagons. These were dragged along a tramway by sleek, stout ponies to the foot of the shaft, under charge of a wagoner.
Other men were engaged at the foot of the shaft, hooking on the corves full of coal to be drawn up by the machinery above. There were three shafts. At the bottom of one was a large furnace kept always burning that it might assist to draw down the pure air from above and send the bad air upwards. Down another shaft was a huge pump, pumping up the water which got into the mine. The third shaft was that by which the men chiefly went up and down, and the coals were drawn up, though the furnace shaft could also be used for that purpose. There were men to tend the furnaces, and stable-men to look after the horses, and lamp-men, and blacksmiths to sharpen the tools and mend the iron-work of the wagons, and rolley-way-men to keep the roads in order, besides several for other sorts of jobs. All these were busy working away at their several posts. Samuel Kempson was among the hewers farthest from the main shaft. Near him was Bill Hagger. They had been working for some hours when the welcome sound of blows on the trap-doors told them that dinner and drink time had arrived. Leaving their tools, they unhooked the lamps, which hung on nails above their heads, and hastened to the drink place, an open space to which their dinners were brought from the shaft on rolleys, chiefly in basins done up in handkerchiefs, each having his proper mark. Some had the first letters of their names, others bits of different coloured cloth, others buttons. Each man having found his dinner, took his seat, when Samuel became aware that his friend the missionary was present. He was standing with his back to the wall, and some candles fixed to a tree, or support, near him. All were silent. Having read a chapter in the Bible, the missionary earnestly entreated them to seek the Lord while He might be found. It was an impressive discourse, and the missionary himself had often cause to think of it afterwards. The dinner-time was soon over, and the labourers hastened back to their work, and the missionary returned to the world above.
Kempson had been pecking away for some time, when Bill Hagger, who was next to him, ceased working. “I want my blow of baccy,” he said, coming up to Samuel. “That missioner chap put me off it, and that’s what I won’t stand, so I’m going to have it now.”
“What can make you think of such a mad thing, Bill?” exclaimed Samuel. “You know it’s against orders to light a pipe, and good reason too, for a spark might blow us all to pieces in a moment. I smell the fire-damp at this moment, you haven’t got matches, I hope?”
“No; but I’ve got a key to open my lamp,” answered Bill, producing a small key from a concealed pocket.
“Don’t be mad, Bill,” cried Kempson. “You know that you’ve no business to have that key. As sure as you open your lamp you’ll blow yourself and me into bits, and may be everybody in the mine, for I never felt it fuller of gas than it is to-day. Just think, Bill, where our souls are to go; for the gas can’t blow them to pieces, remember that.”
“I’m not going to be put off by any of your talk,” answered Bill, in a surly tone, filling his pipe.
Having done so, before poor Kempson could stop him, he had opened his safety lamp, and put in the bowl of his pipe to light it. In an instant there was a fearful report, a sheet of fire flew along the galleries here, there, and everywhere through the pit, bursting open the traps, tearing off huge fragments of the coal, overthrowing pillars and supports, and sweeping to destruction the helpless human beings it overtook in its course. Those more distant from the first part of the explosion heard it coming, and knew too well its dreadful import. They tried to fly towards the foot of the shaft. There only could they hope for safety; but what hope had they of reaching it with those fiery blasts rushing through every roadway and passage, and the destructive choke-damp rising rapidly on all sides?