MATCHES IN THE MINE

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 140, 15 June 1936, Page 15

MATCHES IN THE MINE

CfyHREE hundred 'an four." Jack 1 Gilbert took liis lamp from where the man had pushed it through the lamp-house window, and joined the queue of men and youths at the pithead. The cage crashed up, steadied, then dropped on to the props; bells rang, and it crashctl down again, taking 20 men with it. Jack counted the men in front of him. "We s'll get on the next, Bill," he said to a youth at his side. "Be glad; it's cold this momin'." "We e'll be warm enough in a bit," the other said shortly. The other cage came, took 20 men from the other queue and crashed down again. The ropes whired and jerked about the shaft. Jack filed with 19 others when the cage rested on the props again; he was the last on, and the onsetter banged the open-work iron door shut behind him, cottered it and rang the bell. An answering signal from the pit bottom sounded in. the engine house, The cage lifted nine inches while the onsetter pulled the lever, removing the props. Then, quickly, it fell. The gates guarding the shaft crashed to their rests, and the men were rushed from twilight into lamplight. The other cage, bringing night men to the surfacc, sighed past them. They dropped down, slowed, then rested with a shaking crash at the bottom. # # » * Two deputies felt in tho pockets of half a dozen of the men as tho 20 spread from tho narrow cage about the wide pit bottom. They never expected to find matches or tobacco; tho men searched themselves before they came down. And while this usage of searching was carried on, the men would search themselves. Jack was one of the unchallenged, and he walked on to the stables, warm and thick with the smell of horse refuse. Most of tho gangers had "turned out," and ho. went straight to his pony's standing and released him. "Como on, Major, my lad, we'ro late." He reached down the horse's bridle from a nail and slipped it over the. animal's head. "Como on—got some sugar for you." They walked down the roads, the horso going first. Major knew every inch of tho way. He seemed to know it better, however, coming back to the stable at the shift's end. On the level, and down inclines, Jack walked a yard or so behind, but climbing up the. steep jigs he grasped the horse's tail, and Major pulled willingly, urged at times by tlie youth's promise of sugar. "Get on, lad, Sugar!" At the turn-out he took ofT his coat and waistcoat and hung thein on a prop inside the man-hole, took off his scarf and wiped his face. The narrow road was dusty and hot, the air seemed thick; it soon lined the mouth and throat with a rough film which was never removed until one got into fresh air again, in spite of constant drinking. "I s'll 'avo to 'ave a swig before we start," ho said, when he had geared Major. The horse followed him to wliero his clothes hung and pushed its nose among tho folds. "Wait a mintue, wait a minute." He took a short pull at the full three-pint water drum. "Mustn't drink too much first off. Wait a minute, let me put my bottlo back." He stroked tho animal's nose, then felt in his waistcoat pocket and fetched out four lumps of sugar. "Here then, fussy." Tho live mouth brushed his palm as it gathered in tho sugar, ft shuffled about for more. "One more, I think. Wait a minute." Ho went deep into the pocket, but his fingers did not come out at once, they stopped their fumbling, clutched about something suddenly; surprise swept into his face, his eyes held wide with fear. The horse pushed its nose to whero his fingers were hidden in the pocket and he brought them out. There were live matches as well as the lump of sugar, and ho starec) at them with empty eyes, his thoughts racing wildly. "Now then, what's goin' off 'crc?" It was tho corporal's big voice; Jack had not noticed his light coming along the stint. "Not started yet? All t'stalls up 'cre'll be waitin' o' empties. Get 'ung on, an' bo off." i » * • • The youth jerked into action. He stuffed the matches and sugar into his trousers pocket and swung his hors.? round to the front of the three empty trams, picked up the shaft iron, stuck the lower end of it into the tug-hole of the first tram, and cottered the other to the horse's shafts. . "Get on, Major," lie said hurriedly, and the horse pulled off, leaving the corporal cursing luridly. Jack cringed away from the older youth as he rode past on the first tram. Matches. Brought matches down ths pit. What if the deputy had searched him? He shuddered. What should he do with them ? How had they got in his pocket? He didn't smoke. Oh! His mother had given him some to go down

(SHORT STORY.)

(By WALTER BRIERLY.)

the garden to the coal shed last night; lie had dropped asleep after his dinner and had not changed himself till late, an unusual thing for him. What should he do with them? The horse stopped suddenly at the points. "Come on, bring the 'oss on, points are right," an angry voice called. Jack clicked with bis tongue, and Major drew him and the trams on to the empty road in the turn-out. Nine full ones were 011 the other track. "Were the 'ell 'are you bin? Came along t'stint as if tlia'd all day to do it in." Jack jumped from the shaft iron, released the horse and swung him round to before the first full tram. "All t'stalls loaded up," He was an older boy who stormed. He ganged three stalls, bringing the coal from the face to Jack, who ganged them along his stint to where another youth hung them to the rope running to the pit bottom. "Let's see you shape for 'alf an hour." Jack coupled three loaded trains, turned the point, clicked on his horse and stepped on to the shaft iron. "Look sharp wi' three more," the other shouted, himself drawing away, with the empties. Jack crouched on the iron, repeating mechanically every now and then, "Get on, Major. Get on, lad," But his miml was beating heavily with the knowledge of the matches in his pocket. He moved suddenly from his sitting position, straightened his legs, his body curving over until his head almost touched the horse's tail. He mustn't crouch like that. The matches might set alight, rubbing against each other and against the lump of sugar. In the turn-out, he took the sugar" and matches from his pocket. They were hot, might have struck easily. He "gave the sugar to the horse, pondered • for a. moment; then placed the matches in the inside pocket of his coat hanging 011 the prop in the manhole better there, he thought—and took another gang. But on the way back he became suddenly afraid, fearfully afraid. Baker, the corporal, often came feeling in his pockets for pieces of string or chalk. He swigged at his bottle many a time. "Come on, Major." He lunged out with his foot and kicked the animal"? fetlock. "Come on." The horse increased its pace; the trams clicki-d quicker over the rail joints; the lamp, hung on the strap round his neck, swung widely; shadows chased shadows about the rock walls and roof, swept the gleam momentarily from the rails each side the padding hooves. "Come on, lad. But the turn-out was ha ho had left it, except that three loaded trams had gone and as many empties added to the others. • • • • He took the matches from his coat, thought quickly for a moment; then stuffed them in the blink of his cap and went for another gang. He might catch his head 011 the roof and fire them. He was getting bewildered, not daring to leave off work, not knowing what to do with the matches. He'd watch he brought no more down. If they did fire. . . He shuddered; his brain swam and he clutched the shaft-iron to steady himself. Flame and heat filling the narrow roads, burning, choking, suffocating. He almost felt the heat about him; felt his lungs bursting for air. He would bo ill, faint or something if lie went on like this. What if he hid the things in the manhole? A piece of rock might fall and strike. He couldn't think clearly; everywhere was dangerous. What if he told the coporal—gave them to him ? Or to the deputy, who would be round in half an hour? Would they send him to the surface? They would, but he'd cop it. The sack, and perhaps a summons. But that would bo better than burning, choking. He sat down for a while, waiting, foi empties from the rope-road. What could he do with the dash things? Suddenly he jumped from his seat in the manhole. Put them in his water drtim! He laughed audibly breaking the pressing silence. The rumble of empties being brought to him hummed through the darkness. He turned quickly, popped the cork from his bottle and slipped the matches into the neck. His breath sighed out relievedlv as he turned to meet t v ~ ganger from the rope-yard. When he had drawn the empties along the stint to the stall turn-out and was changing over his horse, the stall ganger came in with three more loaded trams, stopped his horse, then went to his coat and took a long pull from his water bottle. Jack's mouth watered. It was dry, coated over with a dust-film. His throat seemed made-up, his head jerked forward when lie swallowed. He ought to have had a good drink before he put the matches in. • • • • He hung on to the loaded tram. Baker might sneak a swig from his bottle. He'd find the matches, know what he had done. The next time out, he brought the bottle and hid it in a crevice half way down the stint. At times during the

shift when his tongue had moved almost insanely about his mouth until he coulfl stand the thirst no longer, he took the bottle and rinsed out his mouth with a tiny sup; he felt tUe sticks swim against his lips, and he broke away hurriedly. It appeased, but .never satisfied, he would be glad when the shift ended. "C!ot any water left, Gilbert?" the corporal asked in the afternoon. Jack looked quickly at his coat. It was disarranged. "I forgot my bottle this mornin'," .Tack told him quietly. "Not 'ad a drinK all day. About dried up." The corporal walked away, not interested, and Jack continued ganging. When the shift ended, he ungeared at once, hung 011 to Major's tail and ran almost the whole way to the pit-bottom. He hurried through the winter afternoon until he was alone on the fields betw'een the pit and Gantly village, where he lived. He took out the drum and poured the water on to the dark field-path. He looked down at the five thin sticks for a moment; then turned and began climbing the long, empty slope.