tells of a discovery and a disaster.

that afternoon another accident occurred in the mine, which was of a much more serious nature than the one just recorded, and which interfered somewhat with the plans of the managing director of the great wheal dooem mining company.

not long after his interview with clearemout, james penrose finished a blast-hole, and called to zackey maggot to fetch the fuse.

zackey had been working for a week past in connection with penrose, and, at the time he was called, was engaged in his wonted occupation of pounding “tamping” wherewith to fill the hole.

wherever zackey chanced to be at work, he always made himself as comfortable as circumstances would admit of. at the present time he had discovered a little hollow or recess in the wall of the level, which he had converted into a private chamber for the nonce.

there was a piece of flat rock on the floor of this recess, which zackey used as his anvil, and in front of which he kneeled. at his side was a candle, stuck against the wall, where it poured a flood of light on objects in its immediate neighbourhood, and threw the boy’s magnified shadow over the floor and against the opposite wall of the level. above his head was a small shelf, which he had ingeniously fixed in a narrow part of the cell, and on this lay a few candles, a stone bottle of water, a blasting fuse, and part of his lunch, which he had been unable to consume, wrapped in a piece of paper. a small wooden box on the floor, and a couple of pick-hilts, leaning against the wall, completed the furniture of this subterranean grotto.

zackey, besides being a searcher after metals, possessed an unusual amount of metal in himself. he was one of those earnest, hard-working, strong-hearted boys who pass into a state of full manhood, do the work of men, and are looked upon as being men, before they have passed out of their “teens.” the boy’s manhood, which was even at that early period of his life beginning to show itself, consisted not in his looks or his gait, although both were creditable, but in his firmness of purpose and force of character. what zackey undertook to do he always did. he never left any work in a half-finished state, and he always employed time diligently.

in the mine he commenced to labour the moment he entered, and he never ceased, except during a short period for “kroust,” until it was time to shoulder his tools, and mount to the regions of light. above ground, he was as ready to skylark as the most volatile of his companions, but underground he was a pattern of perseverance—a true cornish miner in miniature. his energy of character was doubtless due to his reckless father, but his steadiness was the result of “uncle davy’s” counsel and example.

“are you coming, zackey?” shouted penrose, from the end of the level.

“iss, i’m comin’,” replied the boy, taking the fuse from the shelf, and hastening towards his companion.

penrose had a peculiar and pleased expression on his countenance, which zackey observed at once.

“what do ’ee grizzle like that for?” inquired the boy.

“i’ve come on a splendid bunch of copper, zackey,” replied the man; “you and i shall make money soon. run away to your work, lad, and come back when you hear the shot go off.”

zackey expressed a hope that the prophecy might come true, and returned to his cell, where he continued pounding diligently—thinking the while of rich ore and a rapid fortune.

there was more reason in these thoughts than one might suppose, for cornish miners experience variety of fortune. sometimes a man will labour for weeks and months in unproductive ground, following up a small vein in the hope of its leading into a good lode, and making so little by his hard toil that on pay day of each month he is compelled to ask his employer for “subsist”—or a small advance of money—to enable him to live and go on with his work. often he is obliged to give up in despair, and change to a more promising part of the mine, or to go to another mine altogether; but, not unfrequently, he is rewarded for his perseverance by coming at last to a rich “lode,” or mass, or “bunch” of copper or tin ore, out of which he will rend, in a single month, as much as will entitle him to thirty or forty, or even a hundred pounds, next pay day.

such pieces of good fortune are not of rare occurrence. many of the substantial new cottages to be seen in st. just at the present day have been built by miners who became suddenly fortunate in this way, so that, although the miner of cornwall always works hard, and often suffers severe privation, he works on with a well-grounded expectation of a sudden burst of temporal sunshine in his otherwise hard lot.

zackey maggot was dreaming of some such gleam of good fortune, and patiently pounding away at the tamping, when he heard the explosion of the blast. at the same moment a loud cry rang through the underground caverns. it was one of those terrible, unmistakable cries which chill the blood and thrill the hearts of those who hear them, telling of some awful catastrophe.

the boy leaped up and ran swiftly towards the end of the level, where he called to his companion, but received no answer. the smoke which filled the place was so dense that he could not see, and could scarcely breathe. he ran forward, however, and stumbled over the prostrate form of penrose. zackey guessed correctly what had occurred, for the accident was, and alas! still is, too common in the mines. the shot had apparently missed fire. penrose had gone forward to examine it, and it exploded in his face.

to lift his companion was beyond zackey’s power, to leave him lying in such dense smoke for any length of time would, he knew, ensure his suffocation, so he attempted to drag him away, but the man was too heavy for him. in his extremity the poor boy uttered a wild cry for help, but he shouted in vain, for there was no one else at work in the level. but zackey was not the boy to give way to despair, or to act thoughtlessly, or in wild haste in this emergency. he suddenly recollected that there was a rope somewhere about the level. he sought for and found it. fastening an end of it round the body of the man, under the armpits, he so arranged that the knot of the loop should reach a few inches beyond his head, and on this part of the loop he spread a coat, which thus formed a support to the head, and prevented it being dragged along the ground. while engaged in this operation the poor boy was well-nigh suffocated with smoke, and had to run back once to where the air was purer in order to catch a breath or two. then, returning, he seized the rope, passed it over his shoulder, and bending forward with all his might and main dragged the man slowly but steadily along the floor of the level to a place where the air was comparatively pure.

leaving him there he quickly fixed a candle in his hat, and carrying another in his hand, to avoid the risk of being left in darkness by an accidental stumble or gust of air, zackey darted swiftly along the level and ran up the ladders at his utmost speed. panting for breath, and with eyes almost starting from their sockets, he rushed into the engine-house, and told the man in charge what had occurred; then he dashed away to the counting-house and gave the alarm there, so that, in a very few minutes, a number of men descended the shaft and gathered round the prostrate miner. the doctor who had taken oliver trembath’s place during his absence was soon in attendance, and found that although no bones had been broken, penrose’s face was badly injured, how deep the injury extended could not at that time be ascertained, but he feared that his eyes had been altogether destroyed.

after the application of some cordial the unfortunate man began to revive, and the first words he uttered were, “praise the lord”—evidently in reference to his life having been spared.

“is that you, zackey?” he inquired after a few moments.

“no, it is the doctor, my man. do you feel much pain in your head?” he asked as he knelt beside him.

“not much; there is a stunned feeling about it, but little pain. you’d better light a candle.”

“there are candles burning round you,” said the doctor. “do you not see them? there is one close to your face at this moment.”

penrose made no answer on hearing this, but an expression of deep gravity seemed to settle on the blackened features.

“we must get him up as soon as possible,” said the doctor, turning to captain dan, who stood at his elbow.

“we’re all ready, sir,” replied the captain, who had quietly procured ropes and a blanket, while the doctor was examining the wounds.

with great labour and difficulty the injured man was half hauled, half carried, and pushed up the shaft, and laid on the grass.

“is the sun shining?” he asked in a low voice.

“iss, it do shine right in thee face, jim,” said one of the miners, brushing away a tear with the back of his hand.

again the gravity of penrose’s countenance appeared to deepen, but he uttered no other word; so they brought an old door and laid him on it. six strong men raised it gently on their shoulders, and, with slow steps and downcast faces, they carried the wounded miner home.