MECCA
"Oh, God! that this was ended; that this our toil was past!
Our cattle die untended; our lea-lands wither fast;
Our bread is lacking leaven; our life is lacking friends,
And short's our prayer to Heaven for all that Heaven sends."
--From _God's Poor_.
The cold tang of the dawn was already in the air and the smell of the
earth was keen in our nostrils, when Moleskin and I breasted the steep
shoulder of a hill together, and saw the outer line of derricks standing
gaunt and motionless against the bald cliffs of Kinlochleven. From the
crest of the rise we could see the lilac gray vesture of the twilight
unfold itself from off the naked peaks that stood out boldly in the
ghostly air like carved gargoyles of some mammoth sculpture. A sense of
strange remoteness troubled the mind, and in the half-light the far
distances seemed vague and unearthly, and we felt like two atoms frozen
into a sea of silence amidst the splendour of complete isolation. A long
way off a line of hills stood up, high as the winds, and over their
storm-scarred ribs we saw or fancied we saw the milky white torrents
falling. We could not hear the sound of falling waters; the white frothy
torrents were the ghosts of streams.
The mood or spell was one of a moment. A derrick near at hand clawed out
with a lean arm, and lifted a bucket of red muck into the air, then
turned noisily on its pivot, and was relieved of its burden. The sun
burst out suddenly like an opening rose, and the garments of the day
were thrown across the world. One rude cabin sent up a gray spiral of
smoke into the air, then another and another. We sat on a rock, lit our
pipes, and gazed on the Mecca of our hopes.
A sleepy hollow lay below; and within it a muddle of shacks, roofed with
tarred canvas, and built of driven piles, were huddled together in
bewildering confusion. These were surrounded by puddles, heaps of
disused wood, tins, bottles, and all manner of discarded rubbish. Some
of the shacks had windows, most of them had none; some had doors facing
north, some south; everything was in a most haphazard condition, and it
looked as if the buildings had dropped out of the sky by accident, and
were just allowed to remain where they had fallen. The time was now five
o'clock in the morning; the night-shift men were still at work and the
pounding of hammers and grating noises of drills could be heard
distinctly. The day-shift men, already out of bed, were busily engaged
preparing breakfast, and we could see them hopping half-naked around the
cabins, carrying pans and smoking tins in their hands, and roaring at
one another as if all were in a bad temper.
"I'm goin' to nose around and look for a pair of understandin's," said
Joe, as he rose to his feet and sauntered away. "You wait here until I
come back."
In fifteen minutes' time he returned, carrying a pair of well-worn
boots, which he gave to me. I put them on, and then together we went
towards the nearest cabin.
Although it was high mid-summer the slush around the dwelling rose over
our boots, and dropped between the leather and our stockings. We entered
the building, which was a large roomy single compartment that served the
purpose of bedroom, eating-room, dressing-room, and gambling saloon.
Some of the inmates had sat up all night playing banker, and they were
still squatting around a rough plank where silver and copper coins
clanked noisily in the intervals between the game. The room, forty feet
square, and ten foot high, contained fifty bed-places, which were ranged
around the walls, and which rose one over the other in three tiers
reaching from the ground to the ceiling. A spring oozed through the
earthen floor, which was nothing but a puddle of sticky clay and water.
A dozen or more frying-pans, crammed with musty, sizzling slices of
bacon, were jumbled together on the red hot-plate in the centre of the
room, and here and there amid the pile of pans, little black sooty cans
of brewing tea bubbled merrily. The odour of the rank tea was even
stronger than that of the roasting meat.
The men were very ragged, and each of them was covered with a fine
coating of good healthy clay. The muck was caked brown on the bare arms,
and a man, by contracting his muscles firmly, could break the dirt clear
off his skin in hard, dry scales. No person of all those on whom I
looked had shaved for many months, and the hair stood out strongly from
their cheeks and jowls. I myself was the only hairless faced individual
there. I had not begun to shave then, and even now I only shave once a
fortnight. A few of the men were still in bed, and many were just
turning out of their bunks. On rising each man stood stark naked on the
floor, prior to dressing for the day. None were ashamed of their
nakedness: the false modesty of civilisation is unknown to the outside
places. To most people the sight of the naked human body is repulsive,
and they think that for gracefulness of form and symmetry of outline
man's body is much inferior to that of the animals of the field. I
suppose all people, women especially, are conscious of this, for nothing
else can explain the desire to improve nature's handiwork which is
inherent in all human beings.
Joe and I approached the gamblers and surveyed the game, looking over
the shoulders of one of the players.
"Much luck?" inquired my mate.
"Not much," answered the man beside him, looking up wearily, although in
his eyes the passion of the game still burned brightly.
"At it all night?"
"All night," replied the player, wearily picking up the cards which had
been dealt out and throwing them away with an air of disgust.
"I'm broke," he cried, and rising from his seat on the ground, he began
to prepare his meal. The other gamblers played on, and took no notice of
their friend's withdrawal.
"It's nearly time that you gamblers stopped," someone shouted from
amidst the steam of the frying meat.
"Hold your damned tongue," roared one player, who held the bank and who
was overtaking the losses of the night.
"Will someone cook my grub?" asked another.
"Play up and never mind your mealy grub, you gutsy whelp!" snarled a
third, who was losing heavily and who had forgotten everything but the
outcome of the game. Thus they played until the whistle sounded, calling
all out to work; and then each man snatched up a crust of bread, or a
couple of slices of cold ham, and went out to work in the barrow-squads
or muck-gangs where thousands laboured day by day.
Meanwhile my mate and I had not been idle. I asked several questions
about the work while Joe looked for food as if nothing else in the world
mattered. Having urged a young fellow to share his breakfast with me, he
then nosed about on his own behalf, and a few minutes later when I
glanced around me I saw my pal sitting on the corner of a ground bunk,
munching a chunk of stale bread and gulping down mighty mouthfuls of
black tea from the sooty can in which it had been brewed. On seeing me
watching him he lowered his left eyelid slightly, and went solemnly on
with his repast.
"We'll go out and chase up a job now," said Moleskin, emptying his can
of its contents with a final sough. "It will be easy to get a start. Red
Billy Davis, old dog that he is, wants three hammermen, and we'll go to
him and get snared while it is yet early in the day."
"But how do you know that there are three men wanted?" I asked. "I heard
nothing about it, although I asked several persons if there was any
chance of a job."
"You've a lot to learn, cully," answered Moleskin. "The open ear is
better than the open mouth. I was listenin' while you were lookin'
around, and by the talk of the men I found out a thing or two. Come
along."
We went out, full of belly and full of hope, and sought for Red Billy
Davis and his squad of hammermen. I had great faith in Moleskin, and now
being fully conscious of his superior knowledge I was ready to follow
him anywhere. After a long search, we encountered a man who sat on the
idle arm of a crane, whittling shavings off a splinter of wood with his
clasp-knife. The man was heavily bearded and extremely dirty. When he
saw us approaching he rose and looked at my mate.
"Moleskin, by God!" he exclaimed, closing the knife and putting it in
his pocket. "Are you lookin' for a job?"
"Can you snare an old hare this mornin'?" asked Joe.
"H'm!" said the man.
"Pay?" asked Joe laconically.
"A tanner an hour, overtime seven and a half," said the man with the
whiskers.
"The hammer?" asked Joe.
"Hammer and jumper," answered the man. "You can take off your coat now."
"This mate of mine is lookin' for work, too," said Joe, pointing at me.
"He's light of shoulder and lean as a rake," replied the bearded man,
with undisguised contempt in his voice.
My temper was up in an instant. I took a step forward with the intention
of pulling the old red-haired buck off his seat, when my mate put in a
word on my behalf.
"He knocked out Carroty Dan in Burn's model," said Joe, by way of
recommendation, and my anger gave way to pride there and then.
"If that is so he can take off his coat too," said the old fellow,
pulling out his clasp-knife and restarting on the rod. "Hammers and
jumpers are down in the cuttin', the dynamite is in the cabin at the far
end on the right. Slide."
"Come back, lean-shanks," he called to me as I turned to go. "What is
your name?" he asked, when I turned round.
"Dermod Flynn," I replied.
"You have to pay me four shillin's when you lift your first pay," said
Davis.
"That be damned!" interrupted Moleskin.
"Four shillin's," repeated Red Billy, laying down his clasp-knife and
taking out a note-book and making an entry. "That's the price I charge
for a pair of boots like them."
Moleskin looked at my boots, which it appears he had stolen from Red
Billy in the morning. Then he edged nearer to the ganger.
"Put the cost against me," he said. "I'll give you two and a tanner for
the understandin's."
"Two and a tanner it is," said Red Billy, and shut the book.
"You must let me pay half," I said to Joe later.
"Not at all," he replied. "I have the best of the bargain."
He put his hand in his pocket and drew out something. It was the
clasp-knife that Red Billy placed on the ground when making the entry in
his note-book.