CHAPTER NINE.
TREATS OF DIFFICULTIES TO BE OVERCOME.
One afternoon a council--we may appropriately say of war--was held inSt. Just. The scene of the council was the shop of Maggot, theblacksmith, and the members of it were a number of miners, the presidentbeing the worthy smith himself, who, with a sledge-hammer under his armin the position of a short crutch, occupied the chair, if we may beallowed so to designate the raised hearth of the forge.
The war with poverty had not been very successfully waged of late, and,at the time of which we write, the enemy had apparently given the minersa severe check, in the way of putting what appeared to be an insuperableobstacle in their path.
"Now, lads," said Maggot, with a slap on the leathern apron that coveredhis knees, "this is the way on it, an' do 'ee be quiet and hould yertongues while I do spaik."
The other men, of whom there were nearly a dozen, nodded and said, "Goon, booy; thee's knaw tin, sure;" by which expression they affirmedtheir belief that the blacksmith was a very knowing fellow.
"You do tell me that you've come so close to water that you're 'fraid togo on? Is that so?"
"Iss, iss," responded the others.
"Well, I'll hole into the house, ef you do agree to give un a goodpitch," said Maggot.
"Agreed, one and all," cried the miners.
In order that the reader may understand the drift of this conversation,it is necessary to explain that the indefatigable miner, DavidTrevarrow, whom we have already introduced in his submarine workshop,had, according to his plan, changed his ground, and transferred hislabour to a more hopeful part of the mine.
For some time previous the men had been at work on a lode which was verypromising, but they were compelled to cease following it, because itapproached the workings of an old part of the mine which was known to befull of water. To tap this old part, or as the miners expressed it, to"hole into this house of water," was, they were well aware, anexceedingly dangerous operation. The part of the mine to which weallude was not under the sea, but back a little from the shore, and wasnot very deep at that time. The "adit"--or water-conducting--level bywhich the spot was reached commenced at the cliffs, on a level with theseashore, and ran into the interior until it reached the old mine, abouta quarter of a mile inland. Here was situated the "house," which wasneither more nor less than a number of old shafts and levels filled withwater. As they had approached the old mine its near proximity was madedisagreeably evident by the quantity of moisture that oozed through thecrevices in the rocks--moisture which ere long took the form of a numberof tiny rills--and at last began to spirt out from roof and sides insuch a way that the miners became alarmed, and hesitated to continue towork in a place where they ran the most imminent risk of being suddenlydrowned and swept into the sea, by the bursting of the rocks that stillwithstood the immense pressure of the confined water.
It was at this point in the undertaking that David Trevarrow went toexamine the place, and made the discovery of a seam--a "keenly lode"--which had such a promising appearance that the anxiety of the miners toget rid of this obstructive "house" was redoubled.
It was at this point, too, that the council of which we write was held,in order to settle who should have the undesirable privilege ofconstituting the "forlorn hope" in their subterranean assault.
Maggot, who was known to be one of the boldest, and, at the same time,one of the most utterly reckless, men in St. Just, was appealed to inthe emergency, and, as we have seen, offered to attack the enemysingle-handed, on condition that the miners should give him a "pitch" ofthe good lode they had found--that is, give him the right to work out acertain number of fathoms of ore for himself.
They agreed to this, but one of them expressed some doubt as to Maggot'scourage being equal to the occasion.
To this remark Maggot vouchsafed no other reply than a frown, but hisfriend and admirer John Cock exclaimed in supreme contempt,--"What!Maggot afear'd to do it! aw, my dear, hould tha tongue."
"But he haven't bin to see the place," urged the previous speaker.
"No, my son," said Maggot, turning on the man with a look of pity, "buthe can go an' see it. Come, lads, lev us go an' see this place ofdanger."
The miners rose at once as Maggot threw his forehammer on a heap ofcoals, put on his hat, and strode out of the forge with a recklessfling. A few minutes sufficed to bring them to the beach at the mouthof the adit.
It was a singularly wild spot, close under those precipitous cliffs onwhich some of the picturesque buildings of Botallack mine are perched--asort of narrow inlet or gorge which from its form is named the NarrowZawn. There was nothing worthy of the name of a beach at the place,save a little piece of rugged ground near the adit mouth, which could bereached only by a zigzag path on the face of the almost perpendicularprecipice.
Arrived here, each man lighted a candle, wrapped the customary piece ofwet clay round the middle of it, and entered the narrow tunnel. Theyadvanced in single file, James Penrose leading. The height of the aditpermitted of their walking almost upright, but the irregularity of thecuttings rendered it necessary that they should advance carefully, withspecial regard to their heads. In about a quarter of an hour theyreached a comparatively open space--that is to say, there were severalextensions of the cutting in various directions, which gave the placethe appearance of being a small cavern, instead of a narrow tunnel.Here the water, which in other parts of the adit flowed along thebottom, ran down the walls and spirted in fine streams from the almostinvisible crevices of the rock, thus betraying at once the proximity andthe power of the pent-up water.
"What think'ee now, my son?" asked an elderly man who stood at Maggot'selbow.
After a short pause, during which he sternly regarded the rocks beforehim, the smith replied, "_I'll do it_," in the tone and with the air ofa man who knows that what he has made up his mind to do is not child'splay.
The question being thus settled, the miners retraced their steps andwent to their several homes.
Entering his cottage, the smith found his little girl Grace busilyengaged in the interesting process of nursing the baby. He seatedhimself in a chair by the fireside, smoked his pipe, and watched theprocess, while his wife busied herself in preparing the evening meal.
Oh! but the little Maggot was a big baby--a worthy representative of hisfather--a true chip of the old block, for he was not only fat, riotous,and muscular, but very reckless, and extremely positive. His littlenurse, on the contrary, was gentle and delicate; not much bigger thanthe baby, although a good deal older, and she had a dreadful business ofit to keep him in order. All her efforts at lifting and restraining himwere somewhat akin to the exertion made by wrestlers to throw each otherby main force, and her intense desire to make baby Maggot "be good" wasrepaid by severe kicks on the shins, and sundry dabs in the face with,luckily, a soft, fat pair of fists.
"Sit 'ee quiet, now, or I'll scat oo nose," said the little nursesuddenly, with a terrible frown.
It need scarcely be said that she had not the remotest; intention ofcarrying out this dreadful threat to smash the little Maggot's nose.She accompanied it, however, with a twist that suddenly placed theurchin in a sitting posture, much to his own surprise, for he opened hiseyes very wide, drew his breath sharply, and appeared to meditate aroar. He thought better of it, however, and relapsed into goodness justas the door opened, and David Trevarrow entered.
"Oh, uncle David," cried little Grace, jumping up and running towardshim, "do help me nuss baby."
"What's the matter with the cheeld--bad, eh? Fetch un to me and I'llcure him."
There was no necessity to fetch baby, for that obstreperous individualentertained an immense regard for "Unkil Day," and was already on hisfat legs staggering across the floor to him with outstretched arms.Thereafter he only required a pair of wings to make him a completecherub.
Little Grace, relieved of her charge, at once set to work to assist hermother in household matters. She was one of those dear little earne
stcreatures who of their own accord act in a motherly and wifely way fromtheir early years. To look at little Grace's serious thoroughgoingface, when she chanced to pause in the midst of work, and meditate whatwas to be done next, one might imagine that the entire care of thehousehold had suddenly devolved upon her shoulders. In the matter ofhousewifery little Grace was almost equal to big Grace, her respectedmother; in downright honesty and truthfulness she greatly excelled her.
The description of Maggot's household, on that evening, would be veryincomplete were we to omit mention of Zackey Maggot. That young man--for man he deemed himself, and man he was, in all respects, except thetrifling matters of years, size, and whiskers--that young man enteredthe room with his uncle, and, without deigning to change his wet redgarments, sat him down at his father's feet and caught hold of a smallblack kitten, which, at the time, lay sound asleep on the hearth, andbegan to play with it in a grave patronising way, as though his takingnotice of it at all were a condescension.
That black kitten, or Chet, as it was usually styled, was accustomed tobe strangled the greater part of the morning by the baby. Most of theafternoon it was worried by Zackey, and, during the intervals oftorment, it experienced an unusually large measure of the vicissitudesincident to kitten life--such as being kicked out of the way by Maggotsenior, or thrown or terrified out of the way by Mrs Maggot, or dashedat by stray dogs, or yelled at by passing boys. The only sunshine ofits life (which was at all times liable to be suddenly clouded) was whenit slept, or when little Grace put it on her soft neck, tickled itschin, and otherwise soothed its ruffled spirit, as only a loving heartknows how. A bad memory seemed to be that kitten's chief blessing. Ahorror of any kind was no sooner past than it was straightway forgotten,and the facetious animal would advance with arched back and glaring eyesin defiance of an incursive hen, or twirl in mad hopeless career afterits own miserable tail!
"'Tis a keenly lode," said Maggot, puffing his pipe thoughtfully.
"Iss," assented David Trevarrow, also puffing his pipe, at the cloudsissuing from which baby gazed with endless amazement and admiration;"it's worth much, but it isn't worth your life."
"Sure, I ain't goin' to give my life for't," replied Maggot.
"But you're goin' to risk it," said David, "an' you shouldn't, foryou've a wife an' child'n to provide for. Now, I tell 'ee what it is:you lev it to me. _I'll_ hole to the house. It don't matter much whathappens to me."
"No, 'ee won't," said Maggot stoutly; "what I do promise to do I _will_do."
"But if you die?" said David.
"Well, what if I do? we have all to come to that some day, sooner orlater."
"Are you prepared to die?" asked Trevarrow earnestly.
"Now, David, don't 'ee trouble me with that. 'Tis all very well for thewomen an' child'n, but it don't suit me, it don't, so lev us have nomore of it, booy. I'll do it to-morrow, that's fixed, so now we'll havea bit supper."
The tone in which Maggot said this assured David that furtherconversation would be useless, so he dropped the subject and sat downwith the rest of the family to their evening meal.
Deep Down, a Tale of the Cornish Mines Page 9