Time went on, and at the end of a year Ydoll Mine was in working order,
with a good staff, the best of machinery for raising the ore, a
man-engine for the work-people's ascent and descent, a battery of stamps
to keep up an incessant rattle as the heavily-laden piles crushed the
pieces of quartz, and in addition a solid-looking building with its
furnaces for smelting the tin.
They were busy days there, and Gwyn and his companion found little time
for their old pursuits--egging, rabbiting and fishing--save occasionally
when, by way of a change, they would spend an evening on the rocky point
which formed one of the protecting arms of Ydoll Cove, trying with pike
rods, large winches and plenty of line, for the bass which played in
silvery shoals in the swift race formed at the point by the meeting of
two currents, and often having a little exciting sport in landing the
swift-swimming, perch-finned fish.
For the fishing was too good off that part of the Cornish coast to be
neglected, and the Colonel made allusions to the old proverb about all
work and no play making Jack a dull boy.
One afternoon Gwyn loosened Grip for a run, to the dog's great delight,
and, after seeking out Joe, who had been at home for days attending on
his father, who was troubled with one of his old fits--Joe called them
fits of the Jungle demon--the boys went down to the mine, Grip trotting
behind them, save when some rustle to right or left attracted him for a
frantic hunt to discover the cause.
At the mine Tom Dinass was found, looking very sour and grim, for he was
still not the best of friends with his fellow-workmen; but as he was one
of the most steady in his devotion to his work he stood well with the
owners.
Gwyn caught sight of him first, and Dinass saw him at the same moment,
but, instead of coming forward, he pretended to have something to do
elsewhere, and went off into the smelting-house.
"What has he gone off like that for?" said Gwyn; and the boys followed
just in time to hear some blows being struck in the gloomy place where a
fierce fire was roaring and sending thin pencils of light through cracks
in the furnace door.
The next minute some pieces of hard burned clay crumbled beneath the
blows, and there was a dazzling stream of molten metal poured out, to
run along channels made in the floor to form flat, squarish ingots of
tin, and display the colours of the rainbow, intensified to a brilliancy
that was almost more than the eye could bear.
"Please father when he hears of the casting," said Joe. "So much money
has been laid out that he likes to hear of anything that will bring a
return."
"Well, there's plenty of return coming in now," said Gwyn. "We've got
one of the richest mines in Cornwall. Here, Tom Dinass! What's he mean
by sneaking away? Here, Tom Dinass!"
"Want me, sir?" said the man, looking from one to the other suspiciously
as he came up, his face shining in the wonderful glow shed by the molten
tin.
"Yes, of course. Didn't you see us coming to you before?"
"Me, sir? No, I didn't know as you wanted me," and he seemed to draw
himself up for defence.
"Well, we do," said Gwyn. "We want to have out the seine to-night; the
tide will fit, and there have been mullet about."
"Oh, that's it, sir," said the man, who seemed much relieved. "Here,
keep off with you," he growled, "my legs aren't roast meat."
"Come here, Grip!" cried Gwyn. "To heel, sir! I wish you two would be
better friends."
"'Taren't my fault, sir; it's Grip. He's always nasty again' me."
"Well, never mind the dog. What time will you be off duty to-night?"
"Five, sir."
"That will do. See that the net is ready. I'll speak to the others.
We'll be down there at five--no, half-past, because of tea."
"I'll be there, sir," said Dinass; and the boys went off, with the man
watching them till the door swung close after them. "Nay, my legs
aren't roast meat, but," he continued, as he glanced towards the molten
metal still glowing, "it would soon be roast dog if I had my chance."
Meanwhile the boys went on to continue their preparations, and then
hurried home for their meal; then for the first time Gwyn thought of
Grip, and whistled to him to come and be tied up, but the dog did not
come.
"Smelt a rabbit somewhere," said Gwyn, and thought no more about the
dog.
In due time Dinass appeared down by the sandy cove, and after the long
seine had been carefully laid in the stern of the boat, and the end
lines left in charge of a couple of miners on one of the points, the
boat was rowed straight out, with Gwyn paying out the net with its lead
line and cork line running over a roller in the stern. Then at a
certain distance the boat was steered so as to turn round to the right,
and rowed in a curve, with the net still being paid out, till the rocks
on the other side by the race were reached, and the sandy cove shut in
by a wall of net, kept stretched by the leads at the bottom and the line
of corks at the top.
At this point the boys landed with their trousers tucked up to the
highest extent, jackets off, and arms bare as their legs, to start
inland dragging the lines, the men on the other point starting at the
same time, and bringing the dot-like row of corks to a rounder curve as
the strain on the ropes grew heavier.
Tom Dinass now started for the point at the head of the cove to run the
boat well ashore, and then go to the help of the boys as they toiled
steadily on, stepping cautiously over the rocks, which were slippery
with reddish-yellow fucus, till the broken part gave place to the heavy,
well-rounded boulders which rattled and rumbled over one another in
times of storms. Then the boulders gave place to shingle, which was
rather better for the fishers, and lastly to the fine level sand over
which the seine was to be dragged.
But this took some time and no little labour, for it was slow, hard
work, full of the excitement of speculation; for the net, after
enclosing so wide an area, might come in full of fish, or with nothing
but long heavy strands of floating weed torn by the waves from the rocks
perhaps miles away.
Experience and hints given by the blue-shirted bronzed fishers of the
cove had taught the boys when was the best time for shooting the seine,
however, so they generally were pretty successful; and as the net was
drawn inland the bobbing of the line of corks and sundry flashes told
that fish of some kind had been enclosed, when the excitement began.
It was a bright scene that summer's evening, when the sea was empurpled
by the reflections of the gorgeous western sky, the smoke from the
smelting-house looking like a golden feather.
But neither Gwyn nor Joe had eyes for the beauties of Nature which
surrounded the nook where their fathers had made their home, for the
excitement of the seine drawing was gaining in intensity.
Dinass, after running up the boat by the help of a couple of the men who
had strolled down to see, was hurrying to pass the boys and wade out
with an oar over his shoulder behind the line of corks, ready to splash
and beat the water should there, by any chance, be a shoal of mullet
within--no unlikely event, for these fish swam up with the tide to feed
upon the scraps and odds and ends which came from the village down the
little streamlet. And often enough their habit was, when enclosed, to
play follow-my-leader, and leap the cork line and get out again to sea.
It was well that the precaution was taken, for upon this occasion a
little shoal had been drawn in, to swim about peaceably enough for a
time; but when the water shallowed, and their leader found that the wall
of net was in its way, a frantic rush was made, and Dinass brought down
his oar with a tremendous splash, making them dart in another direction;
but there the top and bottom of the net were drawing together, forming a
bag into which the shoal passed, and their effort to shoot out of the
water was frustrated.
Again they appeared at the surface, but the splashing of the oar checked
them; and this happened over and over, till their chance was gone, and,
mingled with the other fish enclosed, they swam wildly about, seeking
now for a hole or a way beneath the line of leads.
The fish sought in vain; and as the ends of the net were drawn in more
and more, Dinass waded behind about the centre of the great bag, taking
hold of the cork line and helping it along till the sandy beach was
neared, and relieving some of the strain, till slowly and steadily the
seine was drawn right up with its load, after cleanly sweeping up
everything which had been enclosed, this being a great deal more than
was wanted.
For the contents of the net were curious; and as the cork line was drawn
back flat on the sands, there was plenty of work for the men to pick off
the net the masses of tangled fucus and bladder-wrack which had come up
with the tide. Jelly-fish--great transparent discs with their
strangely-coloured tentacles--were there by the dozen; pieces of
floating wood, scraps of rope and canvas, and a couple of the curious
squids with their suckers and staring eyes.
All these were thrown off rapidly upon the sands right and left, and
then the baskets were brought into play for the gathering of the spoil,
while, scurrying away over net and sand, and making rapidly for the
water, dozens of small crabs kept escaping from among the flapping fish,
strangely grotesque in their actions, as they ran along sidewise,
flourishing their pincers threateningly aloft.
In its small way it proved to be a fortunate haul, including as it did
the whole of the little shoal of grey mullet, some three dozen, in their
silvery scale armour, and running some three or four pounds weight each.
Then there was nearly a score of the vermilion-and-orange-dyed red
mullet, brilliant little fellows; a few small-sized mackerel; a few
gurnard, a basketful of little flat fish, and a number of small fry,
which had to be dealt with gingerly, for among them were several of the
poisonous little weevels, whose sharp back fins and spines make
dangerous wounds.
At last all were gathered up; and after giving orders for the seine to
be carefully shaken clear and spread out to dry upon the downs, the two
lads proceeded to select a sufficiency of the red and grey mullet for
home use, and a brace for Sam Hardock, and then made a distribution of
the rest, the men from the mine having gathered to look on and receive.
Gwyn and Joe took a handle each of their rough basket, and began to
trudge up the cliff path, stopping about half-way to look down at the
people below.
"I say, how Tom Dinass enjoys a job of this kind," said Gwyn, as he
turned over their captives in the basket, and noted how rapidly their
lovely colours began to fade.
"Yes, better than mining," said Joe, thoughtfully. "I say, why is he so
precious fond of hunting about among the rocks at low-water?"
"I don't know. Is he?"
"Yes. I've watched him from my window several times. I can just look
over that rocky stretch that's laid bare by the tide."
"Why, you can't see much from there," said Gwyn.
"Yes I can. I've got father's field-glass up, and I can see him quite
plain. I saw him yesterday morning just at daylight. I'd been in
father's room to give him his medicine, for his fever has been
threatening to come back."
"Trying to find a lobster or a crab or two."
"People don't go lobstering with a hammer."
"Expected to find a conger, then, and wanted the hammer to knock it
down."
Joe laughed.
"You've got to hit a conger before you can knock it down. Not easy with
a hammer."
"Well, what was he doing?"
"Oh, I don't know, unless he was chipping the stones to try whether a
vein of tin runs up there."
"Well, it may," said Gwyn, thoughtfully. "Why shouldn't it?"
"I don't know why it shouldn't, but it isn't likely."
"Why not, when the mine runs right under there."
"What? Nonsense!"
"It does. I was down that part with Sam Hardock one day when the wind
was blowing hard, and Sam could hear the waves beat and the big boulders
rumble tumbling after as they fell back."
"How horrid!" said Joe, looking at his companion with his face drawn in
accord with his words. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Forgot all about it afterwards; never remembered it once till you began
to talk like this."
"But how strange!" said Joe.
"Oh, I don't see why it should be strange. The old folks found a rich
vein, and when they did they followed it up wherever it went; and
that's, of course, why it's such a rambling old place. But that's what
old Dinass is after. He thinks that if he can find a new vein, he'll
get a reward."
"What a game if he finds one running out through the rocks!"
"I don't see how it's going to be a game."
"Don't you? Why, to find that he has discovered what already belongs to
us; for of course the foreshore's ours, and even if it wasn't he
couldn't go digging down there for ore."
"Why?"
"Because, for one thing, the waves wouldn't let him; and for another, we
shouldn't allow him to dig a hole down into our mine. There, come on,
and let's take them some fish; and I want to get on my dry clothes.
What are you thinking about?"
"Eh?"
"I said what are you thinking about?"
"Tom Dinass."
"Not a very pleasant subject either. I get to like him less and less,
and it's my opinion that if he gets half a chance he'll be doing
something."
"Hallo!"
"Oh, here you are, Master Gwyn."
"Yes; what's the matter, Sam?"
"You'll know quite soon enough, sir. Come on up to the mine. Harry
Vores has just gone back there. It was him brought me the news."