The Deirdre by Michael Schulkins

Author:Michael Schulkins [Schulkins, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The next course of dynamite gouged out a deep hole in the floor of D2, and once the dust had settled, which didn’t take long, Perkins climbed into it to inspect the wreckage for signs of ice. I looked on with a good deal of anticipation, tempered somewhat by previous disappointments. I had been working in the Deirdre mine for several months by then, and had yet to see a nugget of ice much bigger than my fist, and I was with child, as the saying goes, to be witness to a big strike.

Perkins reached up and threw a shovel-full of blasted rock onto the ground at Mister Lang’s feet. Lang picked some shards of rock out of the pile and gave them a brief examination in the beam of his headlamp. Then he tossed the shards aside and said, “So what do you think, Mister Perkins?”

Perkins’s helmet lamp peeked over the edge of the rubble and lit up the floor of the cavern as he lifted another scoop of freshly blasted rock from the hole. “Well, I don’t know,” he began. “I expect you’re a better judge of ore than I am, Mister Lang.”

Lang snorted. “Don’t be shy, Lawrence. What’s your honest assessment?”

Perkins stood silently for a while, then at last he sighed and said, “There’s booger all, Percy, that’s what there is.” And so it looked as if I would have to wait a while longer to see that big strike.

“I’m afraid I have to agree,” Lang said, then added solemnly, “Captain isn’t gonna like it much.”

“No. I expect he ain’t,” agreed Perkins. “Well, shall I have the men—” by which he meant Bemis and me of course, “—collect this up and take it topside?”

“Not worth the hauling,” said Lang, with evident disdain, then after half a minute of silent contemplation, added, “But then we’ve got to give it every chance, don’t we, Mister Perkins. Let me have a closer look.” He grabbed Perkins by the bloated arm of his haggis and, taking unthinking advantage of the meager gravity, hoisted him effortlessly out of the six-foot deep hole. Then he jumped down and began to examine more pieces of rock, which he then tossed out of the pit with a casual indifference that did not speak well for their quality.

Bemis and I stood by with nothing in particular to do. Despite several worthy explosions that produced plenty of destruction, we had found no ice ore of sufficient quality to be escorted out of the depths, and we were not sent down into the great crack in the floor either. A new, far lengthier skein of electrical wire had been obtained from stores, so instead of descending into the crevasse for protection, we retreated around the final dogleg of D2 to hide from the blasts.

I approved of this arrangement on several counts. Although the procedure amounted to lying flat on the ground and waiting for it to shake apart beneath you, it was easily more comfortable and convenient

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