THE HOTTEST PLACE IN THE MINE.
“Curbstone brokers” and many other dabblers in stocks rely a good deal
upon “points” obtained from miners, in regard to what is going on in the
lower levels of the mines. It probably happens once in a while that a
miner gives some friend on the “outside” early news of a rich strike in
the mine in which he is employed, but it is generally on condition that
the “outsider” purchase and carry for him a considerable amount of the
stock of the mine.
In order to keep himself well informed in regard to the mines in this
way, the speculator must not only have a man in each mine but must have
a man on nearly every level of each mine, as the miners are not allowed
to ramble about at will in the lower levels of any of the leading mines.
To fee a man on each level of half a dozen mines, even, would be a very
expensive means of obtaining early information.
As the miner who is merely receiving a fee occasionally for such
“points” as he may be able to furnish is desirous of receiving a “price”
as frequently as possible, he is somewhat addicted to the manufacture in
a dull time.
Men working in a large and strictly-regulated mine have little
opportunity of knowing when a development has been made at a particular
point in a mine, or anything about the value of any body of ore that may
be encountered.
When a cross-cut is being run at a point where it is thought that ore
will be found, the work is carried on by what is called a “secret
shift.” This shift is composed of the oldest and most trustworthy men in
the mine—men who will work for weeks in a drift that sparkles with
native silver and yet remain as mute as the same number of oysters, when
above, circulating among those of the surface-world. These secret-shift
men generally find their silence profitable. They are helped to a few
shares of the stock at the low figure at which it is probably selling
when the ore is found, and pocket whatever advance there may be in the
stock when the nature and extent of the new development have been made
known.
The men working on a secret shift are not sworn to secrecy, and it is
seldom that they are even pledged—they know why they are selected, and
what is expected of them. When a secret has been divulged and the guilty
person cannot be discovered, every man on that shift is discharged, and
not one of them will again be employed on a secret shift in any mine
until the real culprit has been found. Men working in any kind of place
in the mines are very cautious about telling what is going on
underground, as any valuable information given on the surface is soon
sown broadcast, and is not long in reaching the ear of the
superintendent, foreman, or some other officer of the mine, when it is
quickly traced to the man who brought it up from the lower levels. This
being the case, many of the men, when “pumped” for “points,” invent some
story of a rich development at some point in the mine where all is
country rock or mere barren porphyry. These stories circulate as rapidly
as the others, but a quiet smile is all the attention they receive from
the officers of the mine—they, at such times, remain mute and neutral.
During the great stock excitement in 1872, a gentleman who had several
thousand dollars that he desired to invest in stocks, cultivated the
acquaintance of a man who had the appearance of being a miner, and soon
gave him to understand that in case he could give him any points in
regard to what was going on in certain mines, they would invest and
divide the profits. The man thus “approached” was a miner, but was out
of employment, was at work in no mine on the lead. However, he was
willing to do something. He saw that the gentleman in search of points
was a stranger in the town, and felt that a good thing to do would be to
take him in. Therefore points were promised. In a day or two the alert
miner made his appearance at the hotel of the stranger, and beckoning
him out, furnished him a big point in regard to a grand development in a
certain Gold Hill mine, and a large number of shares were at once
purchased.
This was just at the beginning of the excitement, and the next day there
was a considerable advance in the price of the stock. The man of points
said the newly-discovered ore-body was improving. Day after day the
stock continued to rise, and the pseudo-miner swore it was the richest
thing he ever saw in any mine on the Comstock. He seemed greatly
excited, and was not made easy in mind until he had sworn the gentleman
to secrecy, saying that if even a whisper in regard to the strike got
abroad he would lose his place—would almost be kicked out of the mine.
What the fellow said about the strike seemed to be gospel truth, as the
next day after he had described the appearance of the silver-caverns in
which he was daily delving, the stock went up like a rocket in the San
Francisco Stock Board.
“Aha!” cried the gentleman, “they have found it out already down at the
Bay!”
For two or three days the stock “boomed”—for every stock was just then
booming—then it began to go down a little and “see-sawed” for a day or
two. As soon as the latter symptom became manifest, the well-informed
miner came to his stranger friend wearing a long face and told him to
sell at once. The gentleman was inclined to think that by holding on a
day or two the stock would go to a higher figure than it had yet
reached, but on hearing this the miner came out with another great
secret, and the stranger was again sworn. The ore-body had pinched out
in porphyry, and in cross-cutting through what at first appeared to be a
vast body of immensely rich ore, it had been found a mere shell, all the
rest was barren quartz. Hearing this, the gentleman sold at once, and
the pair of speculators divided over §6,000 profit. The joke of the
whole affair was that no work was being done in the mine whose stock
they had been dealing in, nor had a pick been struck in any part of it
for over two years.
[Illustration: THE HOTTEST PLACE.]
Some of the pranks of the miners are quite amusing. The following is an
instance: At the time that the 1,400-foot level of the Crown Point mine
was being opened, and while it was boiling hot, a Frenchman, a stranger
and a very suave and enthusiastic young man withal, called at the
hoisting-works and asked permission to descend and examine the
lower-levels. The foreman was very busy at the time, and would have
refused the request had it been preferred in language less polite or
manner less eager and earnest. But, seeing the man’s soul in his eyes,
and that he was almost trembling with excess of desire, he thought it
would be positive cruelty to deny him the favor he craved. After some
hesitation, with the Frenchman’s pleading eyes still fixed upon him, the
foreman said it was not a proper time for admitting visitors; that he
was particularly engaged at the moment and could not accompany him; yet,
some miners being about to descend to the lower levels, he might, if so
inclined, go down in their company. The little Frenchman was delighted.
It was just the arrangement that suited him, and he was profuse in his
thanks.
Leaving the native of “sunny France” for a moment, the foreman advanced
to where the workmen were preparing to descend the shaft, and told them
he was going to send a Frenchman down with them to see the lower levels,
and that one of them could bring him up after he had satisfied his
curiosity. Being somewhat vexed at having to send the man down at all,
the foreman added to his other instructions: “And, confound him, put him
into the hottest hole you can find!”
“All right, sir,” cheerily answered the men.
The Frenchman was told to get aboard the cage, when down he was sent in
the same clothing in which he came to the mine—coat, hat, and all. Now
the miners in whose hands the Frenchman had fallen, were all fellows of
“infinite jest”—ready for any kind of deviltry. They considered that in
the parting words of their foreman—“Put him into the hottest place you
can find,” they were given permission to play the Frenchman almost any
trick their humor might suggest.
On arriving at the 1,400-foot level, while moving about lighting
candles, the plan hit upon for “doing” their French friend was whispered
among the miners. They showed their man about for a time, greatly to his
delight. He admired everything; yet he could but exclaim occasionally:
“Begar zee atmosphere which exist here be fearful intemperate!” At
length the miners informed the visitor that they were about to conduct
him to the most interesting point in the mine—to the most advanced
drift, the place in which all the hopes of the company were centered.
They honestly stated that the place was very hot, but if he could stand
the heat he should see a spot the eye of no “outsider” had yet viewed,
but which many would give thousands of dollars to behold.
“Oh,” cried the Frenchman, “it will be one grand plaisir! I sall be ver
delighted! Nossing could be more agreeable. Bote, now zat I sink of it,
I would prefer zat I have leave me coat at zee surface.”
The miners led the way to a long drift, in the end of which had been
bored a deep drill-hole, from which flowed a stream of water so hot that
eggs had actually been boiled in it in a few minutes. All of the rock
forming the walls of the drift was so hot that to place the naked hand
upon it was painful. The crowbars and drills lying back near the face of
the drift were so hot that they could not be handled.
Into the very end of this drift the miners led the enthusiastic little
man, and began showing him the ore there to be seen. Soon the
perspiration poured in streams from his face and a small rill ran from
the end of his nose. He opened his vest and clutched at his necktie to
get air, but still he was not utterly discouraged. Said he, rubbing the
water from his eyes: “How ver true it is for you gentlemen vich vork in
zee mines what is observe in zee Bible, in zee curse to the first
parent—‘In zee perspiration of you forehead sall you eat of zee loaf of
bread! ’”
About this time, in some unaccountable way, all of the candles at once
went out. Pitchy darkness prevailed. The miners charged their French
friend to stand perfectly still and they would go out and re-light their
candles. The poor devil only said:
“Vell, vell, ziz is to me incomprehensible and must be one chance
extraordenaire for all zee candaile to become extinguish so very
instantaneous. Je suppose it was one accident. Make all zee dispatch
vich is possible. Zee heat of zee atmosphere is indescriptible!” Soon
after this little scene in the drift, Sam Jones, superintendent of the
mine, came along through the level with a lantern in his hand. Much to
his surprise, he found several men standing in the dark before a drift,
the mouth of which they had carefully closed with “logging” and pieces
of boards.
“Hello!” cried he, “what are you all doing here in the dark? And why is
the mouth of this drift closed?” No one volunteered a remark, each
waiting for the other probably.
“Have you seen a young Frenchman on this level?” asked the
superintendent, “the foreman above tells me he sent him down here.”
Now some one _had_ to speak.
“Yes;” said one of the men, “he is here.”
“Here! Where?”
“Back in the end of the drift.”
“What in thunder is he doing there?”
“Waiting for a light, I think.”
“In the devil’s name! what trick is this?” cried the superintendent.
“Don’t you know that the man is an ex-count and a big French banker—a
man of note?”
“Can’t help that. The foreman told us to show him the hottest place in
the mine, and we’re a-showin’ it to him—and makin’ it as hot for him as
we know how.”
In an instant the superintendent had torn away the planks and logging,
and was making his way back, lantern in hand, to where the poor devil of
a Frenchman was roasting—literally roasting, for the whole drift was as
hot as a furnace seven times heated, and the man was more dead than
alive. Elevating his lantern, to get a view of the foreign gentleman,
the superintendent found him standing with coat and vest across his arm,
and collar and necktie in his hand. He was wilted till as limber as a
dish-rag.
“Ze Cod on ’bove be praise,” he cried, “zat you have come! I am just on
zee point to expire. Zee distemperament of zee place have increase
immediatement after you retire in more as ten-fold progression.” Then,
wiping the blinding perspiration from his eyes, he surveyed Mr. Jones
for a moment in surprise. “Ah! pardon me monsieur,” he cried, “I have
not first zee plaisir to behold you before. I mistake you for zee
gentlemen who have depart wis the purpose to re-enlight zee candaile.
Excuse me zat I trouble you wis zee narration, bote we meet here wis one
leetle accident, sare; one leetle accident which have, how you call it?
exterminate, estinguis’ zee entire of the candaile, sare.”
“I am sorry that anything so unpleasant should have occurred,” said the
superintendent, “and I assure you, sir, I shall look into this matter.”
“You are too kind, monsieur—too kind! I assure you sare, zat I have
remain here until zis moment in parfaite tranquilety; bote now, sare, I
vill depart, if you please. Vill you have zee complaisance to put me on
zee machine, and elevate me to zee surfaice immediatement? My God, sare,
I expire wis zee heat! Elevate me, monsieur, wis dispatch—wis all
dispatch. I vill not remain for zee gentleman who have go wis zee
purpose to re-enlight zee candaile. Some ozzaire time I vill make zem my
apology.”
In all haste the superintendent led the way to the main shaft, the
polite little Frenchmen hurrying after, saying: “Yes, some ozzaire time
I moos make to zem my apology.” They were soon aboard the cage, and, a
minute after, at the 1100-foot level. Here the superintendent was
obliged to stop a few minutes, but told the Frenchman that if he would
get off and wait, they would go up together on the next cage. But to
this the half-dead man would not listen. He stuck to the cage like grim
death, and said:
“Let zee machine continue to ascend up, if you please, sare, I vill be
elevate on zee surfaice promptment—wis all despatch, sare.”
The superintendent then sent a trusty miner up with the roasted
ex-count. When daylight was reached the little fellow was himself again.
“Ah!” cried he, “how ver’ beautiful is zee cool air, zee light of zee
glorious sun, and all of God’s work, how grand! I have make one terrible
experience; bote I would not have miss him, sare, no, not for many
dollaires!”
He then tried to make the man who came up the shaft with him accept a
five-dollar gold piece. Not succeeding in this he made him go with him
to the nearest saloon and get a glass of beer. Not satisfied with this,
and the men below again coming into his mind, he paid the barkeeper for
two buckets of beer, telling the miner with him that he wished it given
to the men who went to light the candle.
“I have,” said he, “been ver impolite to come away before zee return of
zee gentlemen who have gone to re-enlight zee candaile. Veil, zat was
one ver curious accident and bring to me one ver terrible experience of
zee discomfort of zee heat at zat place of remarkable interest.”
Although the French count doubtless suffered terribly while shut up in
the drift, with boiling water and heated rock all about him, his
“discomfort,” after all, was not much greater than was that of the
miners who played him the trick while drinking the beer he sent
them—though their torture was of a different kind. Most amply, yet most
innocently, had the Frenchman avenged himself.
[Illustration]