Even as the big miner had his hand upon the gauze cover of the Davy-lamp
there were tiny little explosions going on within, for in spite of the
great current of air that was kept up through the pit, a draught which
swept away the dangerous gas, there were places which its purifying
influence did not reach, places such as this new gallery in the
four-foot seam, where the vapour had been steadily increasing for hours
and collecting round the heads of the men.
Familiarity breeds contempt. Often enough we know that the men who work
in gunpowder mills have to be searched to keep them from taking matches
with them when they enter the mill.
Philip Hexton and his companion went on, the latter ready to grumble as
he grew weary of what he looked upon as unnecessary labour. "T'pit was
reet enew," he said to himself; and what need was there of "peeking and
poking about this how?"
For the young inspector seemed never satisfied. He was always on the
look-out for danger; and as they went on and on through the black
galleries, where the iridescent tints of the shaley coal flecked with
iron pyrites glittered and flashed in the dim light, he kept pausing and
listening.
"He won't stop at it long," said the overman to himself; "he's 'bout
scarred of it now. I niver see a lad so freckened at every sound."
It was quite true. Philip Hexton was startled at every sound; but it
was from fear for others--not for self. So far from feeling the
ordinary coward's dread, he would have gone at once into the most
dangerous places to save another's life; but he was at times appalled at
the reckless ways of the men.
In one gallery the roof, as the light glimmered upon it, was one
beautiful fret-work of ancient vegetation, being carved, as it were,
into knotted stems full of beautiful flutings. Huge ferny leaves could
be seen bending in graceful curves, and here and there, shining like
cuttings in jet, traces of the cone-like fruit borne by some of the
trees of that far-back age when the coal was deposited in bituminous
beds.
These geological remains had a great interest for Philip Hexton, and he
promised himself plenty of amusement when his time of leisure came. At
present it was all work--extremely hard work, for, until he could
thoroughly master every technicality in the pit, he felt himself to be
at a great disadvantage with the men.
"Yo' weant be so partic'lar when yo've been here a few year, Master
Hexton," said the overman, as they were making their way down a wide
gallery whose coal had been worked out long enough before, and across
which part of the mine they were passing to reach a distant portion
where the men were at work on the "new four-foot."
"Indeed!" said Philip, smiling, "I think you'll find me twice as
strict."
"Not yo'," chuckled the man; "I used to think the same when I was young;
but, bless thee, lad, a man's life would be a burden to him if he was
fancying the pit o' fire at every bit of gas. There'd be no coal-mining
at all, for the lads'd be too scarred to come down."
"If I live and have my way," said Philip sternly, "the pit here shall be
so safe that work can go on in peace for every one, and every man shall
act as guardian of his fellow's safety."
"Sounds very pratty, lad," said the overman, "but it weant wuck. Look
here, there's a bit o' gas in this corner."
He held the lamp up close to the roof, and tiny explosions again began
inside the gauze.
Then he lowered the lamp, and they ceased, showing how light the
explosive gas was, and how it floated about the roof.
"Sithee," continued the overman, holding up the lamp again, so that
Philip could make out that there was a rift above their heads, where at
some time or other the roof had fallen; "that place has got part gas in
it, for the ventilation don't touch here; but that don't mean as the
whole mine's dangerous."
"But the whole mine _is_ dangerous," said Philip hastily. "It's made
dangerous by the recklessness of the men. Stop, man, what are you going
to do?"
He was too late, for, unperceived by him, the overman had unlocked the
lamp, and held it up open above their heads, when there was a blinding
flash, and an echoing report, and then a rumbling, distant, rushing
noise.
"What do you think o' that, lad?" said the overman coolly, relocking his
lamp.
"I think it was madness," said Philip excitedly. "You might have fired
the mine."
"Nay, lad, there was no fear o' that I knowed well enew what I was
doing, and that bit o' gas was just as well away."
The young deputy's heart beat fast, and he was about to speak angrily,
but he felt that it would be better to consult with his father to see if
a stop could not be put to such reckless ways. For he argued if an
overman would run such a risk as this, knowing that the detached portion
of gas might possibly communicate with a larger body, was it not likely
that the ordinary winners of the coal would, without the overman's
knowledge and experience, run even greater risks?
"Yo'll get used to it all by and by," said the man condescendingly; "and
if yo'll take my bit of advice, yo'll let the men tak' care o'
theirsens."
Philip Hexton must have walked in and out quite a couple of miles,
examining ventilating-doors, seeing that the boys who opened and shut
them for the corves to pass were doing their duty, and the like; and,
trifling as it may sound, a great deal depends in a coal-mine upon such
a thing as the opening and shutting of a door, for by means of these
doors the current of air that is sucked, as it were, through the
passages of the pit by the great furnace at the bottom of the shaft is
altered in its course, and turned down this or that passage, sweeping
out the foul air or gas, and making safe the pit. Hence, then, the
neglect of one boy may alter the whole ventilation of some part of a
mine, the purifying draught may be stopped from coursing through some
dangerous gallery where the gas comes singing out of the seams, a light
be taken inadvertently there, and ruin and death be the result.
The young deputy was going on thinking to himself whether it would not
be possible to invent a process by which the dangerous gas of a mine
might be collected in great gasholders, and then burned within gauze
shades for the lighting up of the pit, when the distant
_chip_--_chip_--_chip_ ringing and echoing where the men were at work in
the new four-foot grew less persistent, and in place of becoming louder
as they drew nearer, gradually began to cease, as if first one man and
then another had thrown aside his took.
"Hadn't we better turn down here now, Master Hexton?" said the overman.
"No; I want to inspect the new four-foot," replied Philip.
"My lad, thee needn't go theer to-neet," said the overman. "That's all
right, I warrant."
"He has some reason for stopping me from going there," was Philip
Hexton's first thought. "The men have ceased working; something must be
wrong."
"This is the gainest wayer," said the overman, turning sharply down a
passage, light in hand, of course thinking that his companion would
follow him, for he knew well enough what the stoppage meant, and he did
not want the young man to see the miners smoke.
But Philip Hexton was made of different metal to what he expected, and,
careless of being left in the gloom of one of those weird passages, the
young man stood for a moment peering forward into the black darkness,
and, making out a faint glimmer of light, stretched out his hands and
began to make his way cautiously along by the shaley wall.
It was terribly bad walking, the floor being uneven from the many falls
of coal from the roof. Here and there, too, were wooden supports which
had to be avoided; but after stumbling along cautiously for about fifty
yards, and avoiding the obstacles as if by a miracle, the distant glow
of light was sufficient, dim as it was, to show him the supports that
intervened, and fifty yards further he could walk quite fast, for there
were the Davy-lamps hanging here and there, each forming a faint star,
with a dull halo around.
They seemed very near the ground till the young deputy remembered that
they were in the four-foot seam, and the next moment he was spared a
violent blow by one of his hands coming in contact with the roof.
Philip Hexton's heart beat fast at the sight he saw; and for a moment he
felt as if he must turn and run for his life.
But he did not. Bending down half-double, he ran towards the group of
men, gaining impetus each moment, till, stumbling over some of the newly
hewn-out coal, he was thrown, as it were, full against Ebenezer Parks,
his right fist catching the burly miner in the ear, just as he was, pipe
in mouth, about to open the lamp, and they fell heavily together, the
lamp fortunately being extinguished by the shock.