Australian Tales - Setis

easily as I could handle a child's cock-horse, and pulled or pushed the
loaded coal waggons about, at will, as though they were mere bonnet
boxes. In company with the manager and another friend, I in a few
minutes arrived at the mine, which is rather more than a mile from
Newcastle.
I cannot minutely describe the gigantic works either above or below
ground, which are triumphs of perseverance and engineering skill,
perhaps unparalleled in this part of the world.
I gazed with wondering admiration at the machinery about the pit's
mouth, and marked the order and system that prevailed, in the midst of
noise and activity, which made my brain simmer like a stewed cabbage. I
noted the waggish looks of some of the smutty - faced boys, (who were
wheeling little coal skips about,) at my nervous care to keep my toes
clear of their iron wheels, and to keep a look-out for my head and my
other important members at the same time; while I mentally admitted
that the smallest boy there was wiser than myself, or at any rate
possessed more useful knowledge, adapted to that particular locality. The
various modes of raising, weighing, inspecting, and screening the coal,
were briefly explained to me in terms comprehensible to my uninitiated
mind, which was dark as coal itself on such subjects. I was shown a huge
box-full of “nuts,” without longing to crack one; and another box full of
“duff,” which even a starving sailor would despise as a ration, though the
engine furnaces daily devoured a large quantity, with greedy gusto.
I next arrayed myself in a borrowed coat and cap — neither of which
fitted me nicely — and with a little tallow lamp in my hand, took my
stand in an iron cage between my two guides, and down, down, down, I
went two hundred feet into the bowels of the earth. On stepping out of
the cage, at the bottom of the shaft, I found myself surrounded by coalbegrimed
men and boys, with little lamps stuck in their caps; whilst the
clanking of chains, the rumble of coal skips on the rails in long dark
lanes, the shouts of the horse drivers, and other sights and sounds
altogether strange to me, helped my imagination to conceive many
startling things.
The overman of the mine lighted his lamp, and formed a rear guard; so
away I went, with difficulty keeping up with my active friends in front,
and sadly knocking my toes now and then against obstructions in my
pathway, which my lamp but dimly revealed, but which my practised
companions stepped over, as briskly as rabbits in a warren. Away we
went, up a long black passage, which I called Ebony Highway — I forgot
to enquire its proper name. On either side of us was a wall of solid coal,
which sparkled in the glare of our lamps, like patent leather. The roof
varied from ten to twelve feet in height; but occasionally it was much
lower, as I discovered by my bump of firmness coming in contact with
some stimulating substance, but whether it was rock or coal, I did not