Page:St. Nicholas (serial) (IA stnicholasserial402dodg).pdf/92

 642 cough, the air burst through the silt above the apron. The tunnel had discharged like a pneumatic gun, The air picked up the men as if they had been straws, and flung them headlong into the mud. I happened to catch a fleeting glimpse of all this while I snatched desperately at something to keep from being blown along with them. At the very same instant, the lights went out, and we were plunged in inky darkness, while we could hear the rush of water pouring into the tunnel, There was a panic at once. Every one started on a mad scramble, stumbling and falling over one another and the various timbers and obstructions, shouting and yelling—a wild run of 400 feet to the locks, Will and I groped our way back as fast as we could, hand in hand, My chum had been knocked down and rendered all but unconscious by an ugly blow an the forehead.

It was net until we had all entered the locks and had actually begun to lock ourselves through that our senses returned to us, We were like the Irishman who swam ashore to save himself first, and then swam back to save the other fellow. The foreman, who had fled with the rest, suddenly remembered the responsibility that rested upon him. Hastily he counted noses, and found that two were missing.

“They must have been caught by the blow-out,” he said; “we must go back to save them if we can.” Candles were procured, and we all went back into the black tunnel.

As we neared the shield, we heard a faint voice calling for help, and we shouted encouragement. The water was rapidly growing deeper, and already it was up to our knees. We found a poor fellow lodged in the mud between the boulder which the night shift had tried to blast and one of the slanting braces of the apron. It was Jake. What had become of Jerry? We could not imagine, We had work enough trying to extricate the man before us, When the blow-out occurred, he was knocked senseless for a time, but then the black water and mud flowing in through the opening made by the outpouring air ran down over his face, and restored him to consciousness. When he came to, all had deserted him; everything was dark, and he was pinioned so that he could n’t escape, while the black torrent flowing down on him nearly drowned him. To make matters worse, as soon as the tunnel had discharged most of its air-pressure in the blow-out, the silt began to press in upon the shield. This threatened slow torture for poor Jake. Slowly but surely the boulder would crush him, He called and called. He knew that it would not take long for the tunnel to fill with such a river of mud flowing into it. Fortunately, he was in the upper part of the heading, and it would take longer for the water to reach him. He had almost given up hope when he heard us coming back. The task of removing him was not so simple. We managed to free his body, after some work, but his legs were firmly held. There was little time left: the water was rising rapidly.

“Come back,” shouted one of the men, “we have got to close the doors in the shield, or the tunnel will be filled.”

“What! and leave that fellow out there!” I cried.