Peasant Tales of Russia
But this lasted only a short time, and the darkness gradually became less dense. First of all the blackness was diversified by spots of light, then by blazing spirals of fire; these then changed into golden circles, which in their turn disappeared in showers of sparks. Then the spots of light assumed all the colours of the rainbow and the fiery spirals shone with a dazzling light, revolving rapidly in the darkness, which, however, was not dispersed by this lightning-like splendour. Then they melted together and rose to giddy heights, appearing up there like glittering mirages. Sometimes the spots of light assumed indistinct shapes which seemed to have transparent wings, while white robes fluttered behind them. Mysterious spirits who shunned the light of the lamp escaped from the black rock bastion and gathered round the old man, leaning over him and gazing intently into his wide-open eyes. At such times he heard a vague rustling around him.
He seemed to feel the breath of the rocks reaching him through invisible fissures. He heard the musical complaint of a spring imprisoned in the rock, or it might be a distant song. His ear caught distinctly harmonious sounds, which sometimes melted together and sometimes followed each other, sporting like butterflies in the field, and he eagerly listened to their ineffable melody. Thus he would pass hours and even entire nights while, forgotten by his comrades, he remained alone in the enormous mine, alone with his visions and the fantastic echoes of a world unknown and invisible. But to-day these things hardly occupied his mind at all.
The next day was a Saturday, and he had to break as much ore possible and convey it, together with the piles already prepared, to the principal gallery, where the overseer of the mine would take it over. In the evening he would receive his pay, the whole of which he would take to an old woman living in the village. She looked after him, prepared his meagre repasts, mended his clothes, and bought his boots. People said she was his sister, but he felt doubtful about it. He knew that he had passed his childhood far away from her, for while he was always in the mine with his mother, she was growing up in a strange family who took care of her. He never spoke to her. When he entered in the evening he silently placed his money on the table, let his head drop in his hands, and remained sitting in this attitude. When she called him to sit down at table, he rose and obeyed, otherwise he would have remained as he was till the morning, as motionless as a log. When he happened to remain in the mine for the night, his sister was not anxious about it; she knew that he had taken with him a large chunk of bread and a handful of salt; as for water, there was no lack of that in the mine! She knew also that in a corner of the sepulchral vault, where he worked like a mole from morning to night, there was a can of oil, and that he could re-light his lamp whenever it went out.
Ivan stooped down, looked for his pickaxe, found it, and sat down to break pieces from a block of ore which projected from the wall. This ferruginous earth was as hard to break as stone. Ivan worked slowly, sparing his strength because he could not do otherwise; care had been taken to show him a place where the rock was not so hard as elsewhere. Fragments of yellowish earth fell on the ground, and the rays of the little lamp lit up the particles of copper which glittered here and there in the pieces of rock. After two hours' work the pickaxe fell from the old man's hand. Feeling quite exhausted, he squatted down on the ground, cut himself a large slice of bread, sprinkled it plentifully with salt, and began to munch the soft part of it with the remnants of his teeth.
There was in one corner a wheelbarrow light enough for the old man to push it. After having rested, he filled it with ore, and crawled, pushing the barrow in front of him, through the narrow passage which led to the main gallery. At the end of the passage a point of yellow light was visible. This proceeded from the main gallery where a large number of miners worked, and the yellow light was that cast by their lamps. Several times the old man sank exhausted on his stomach on the ground; then after resting a minute or two to recover strength, he began to crawl on again, pushing his load in front of him. The point of light grew larger from moment to moment and soon became a broad luminous disk against which the outline of a miner stood out in sharp relief. A few minutes more and the wheelbarrow issued from the passage, pushed by the old man, who sank as he did so on the ground.
"Stop a minute! You are tired: let me help you, old man," said a young miner who had finished his work. The old man lifted his head, looked at him for a moment, and sank down again. The younger laid hold of the wheelbarrow, but Ivan took it brusquely from him, and shook his head with an air of disapproval.
"What fly is buzzing in your head, comrade?" several of the other miners said to the young one. "Have you forgotten the old man's habits? You know that he never allows any one to enter his hole, nor to touch his barrow, for he has heaped up riches in it. Since he has worked in the mine, he has found so much gold that he has become a regular Crœsus."
The miners laughed good-naturedly, tapping the old man's shoulder with their horny fingers.
"March on in front, Ivan, and the other one will follow," they said to soothe him.
Instead of answering, Ivan removed his old leather cap and commenced bowing to right and to left as if to give his comrades a good view of his bald head.
"That's enough, old man! Yes, we know your zeal!" said the miners, laughing. "He is quite a child, eh?"
"He has forgotten how to talk," some one remarked.
"Yes, he is an innocent. Ah, my God! What is that?"
In the twinkling of an eye every one was on their feet. It seemed as though the huge mountain was breathing with all its lungs. The noise came from a distance and drowned all the others. The miners were deafened. Suddenly a gust of wind rushed violently through the gallery, extinguishing nearly all the lamps. Somewhere, one knew not where, rose cries of anguish which were soon lost in an immense uproar. After hurriedly re-lighting their lamps, the miners rushed in the direction of the cries. A gleam of intelligence lit up the eyes of old Ivan as he tottered after them on his feeble legs.
IV
In front of what had been the exit from the gallery the miners stood silent. Others were running up from the more or less distant side galleries; their steps could be heard approaching and their lamps seen.
"What has happened, sir?" they exclaimed in alarm, as they came staring in a stupefied way at the place where a moment before had stood the principal shaft of the mine.
If the vaulted roof of the gallery had resisted the formidable shock of the collapse, it was only because it was part of the solid rock. Already the miners' feet were standing in water which had been liberated by this displacement of masses of earth and flowed into the gallery, reflecting the faint lights of the lamps and the vivid flame of the torch which the overseer of the mine held above his head, while its smoke ascended towards the high black vaulted roof.
"Lost! We are lost!" some one exclaimed in the crowd with a sob.
Old Ivan pushed his way to the front of the crowd. Neither he nor the others noticed that the water was flowing round their ankles. They found themselves confronted by a huge and visibly growing mass, composed of a mixture of stones from the ruined shaft and fragments of timber-work and earth. In the midst of all lay upside-down, the bucket which had become detached from its chain and carried away.
The overseer held his torch near a mass of earth which had assumed a round shape. It lit up the head of a miner with eyes immensely wide open whose fixed look seemed to be concentrated on the flame of the torch. There was something terrible in the sight of those motionless eyelids, those white teeth gleaming between two torn lips, that deep wound in the temple from which blood was oozing. A little lower down one saw projecting from the earth a hand with wide-extended fingers and a broken wrist. Still lower down could be seen the feet of miners whose bodies were invisible, buried under the earth. Not a single one moved.
Up to that moment no one had noticed them, but when the torch lit up this tragic spectacle the whole crowd of miners instinctively started backward. As he turned round, the overseer only saw faces pale with fright and shrinking from his torch as though there were something terrible about it. However, one miner, leaning his hand on the wall, bent forward, looking attentively at the dead man's face. What did he see extraordinary in it? He could not have said himself, but it was plain that he had not the power to turn his terrified eyes away from it. Another miner approached and touched something with his pickaxe which he quickly withdrew.
"Look at that piece of bread!" he exclaimed.
The overseer looked in his turn. He saw another hand projecting from underneath the earth holding a slice of bread sprinkled with coarse salt in its curved fingers. But the owner of the hand was completely buried and invisible.
Other miners ran up. Each pushed his way to the front, eager to see, then having contemplated the huge mass, retired with his face working. One of them put his hand over his eyes in order not to see the terrible sight. Others stood motionless, their faces turned to the wall, as though petrified, and seemed unable to turn their heads. One young workman, pale with fear, had seized hold of another, who as though rendered temporarily idiotic, kept on passing his finger over the damp black wall of the rock.
"There are perhaps still living men below," stammered the overseer in a low voice. A plaintive groan as though in answer to his question came to his ears from below the mass of fallen earth. He approached it again, but the groan was not repeated.
"Now, comrades, we must dig!" he said.
"Come you there, Orefieff Smirnoff! Let us get to work."
So speaking, the overseer seized a miner by the hand, led him before the mass of collapsed earth and began to work with him. Hardly had they commenced than a second landslip took place, and the first mass of earth, pressed by the second which had just fallen, spread in liquid mud over the gallery. The two men only leaped back just in time.
The overseer could now properly estimate the magnitude of the disaster. It was evident that they were imprisoned and that no help could reach them from without. But at any rate they could breathe easily, and the fact that the air circulated in the gallery much more freely than before the accident, showed that there was still some means of ventilation left. They must hasten to take advantage of it. In a few hours the whole mine would collapse owing to this immense falling-in of earth.
"Come here quickly, comrades!" said the overseer.
In the twinkling of an eye they surrounded him.
"There is only one way of saving ourselves," he said, "and that is by reaching the old upper gallery. Let those who care for their lives follow me. Perhaps the shaft is still intact on that side. It ought to be so, for the air circulates freely. Call those who are working in the side galleries, and all of you come back here."
Some of the miners, who had preserved more presence of mind than the rest, rushed to the side galleries to summon their companions.
V
In less than a quarter of an hour, all the survivors of the catastrophe were collected. The overseer ordered them to provide themselves with torches, of which a reserve store was always kept in a dry place under the roof. Then the roll of names was called and seven miners were found to be missing. They had been buried alive and there was no hope of finding them.
"Now, listen to me, comrades," said the overseer. "I mean to be obeyed. Above all, no quarrelling; this is not the time for it. If we begin that, we are all lost. I think that if we try by the old gallery above we shall reach the shaft, which is possibly only flooded below, and may still be practicable above. You, Ivan, lean on somebody. Support the old man, comrades. We must not leave him here. You are the strongest of all, Terenti, help him. God will reward you. And now forward with God's help!"
He uncovered and crossed himself. Every one followed his example.
"What are we to do with these?" asked a miner, pointing to the dead bodies.
"Nothing. God has undertaken to bury them," answered several voices. "They are well where they are, for to die thus in an accident is the same thing as dying after confession. God Himself has willed it. Every one knows that among us in the Ural."
"Well, may the earth lie lightly upon them."
The overseer raised his torch still higher and the march began. The miners followed him, skirting the walls timidly. They soon reached the slanting passage leading to the old deserted gallery, which was above the one they were leaving.
The overseer entered it resolutely. Keeping closely together, the miners began to climb up the steep incline, stopping at moments, sometimes to see if they would be able to advance, sometimes to listen whether there was not a noise behind them, and whether the gallery they had just quitted had not fallen in. Before and behind them there was nothing but darkness, the only light being the flame of the torch. The miners walked in this dim light while the darkness seemed to follow them and dog their footsteps. They thus climbed upwards for twenty minutes, sometimes stooping when the roof came low, then walking erect when possible. If one of them found himself lagging a little behind, he hastened to rejoin the rest, their chief fear seeming now to be left alone, as those who loitered too long were sure to perish.
From time to time the overseer slackened his pace, in order to make sure that all were present; then he resumed the march.
Suddenly a strong gust of air made the flame of the torch waver. As the draught became stronger the flame was blown backward and became a long tongue of fire. A thick smoke blackened the miners' faces, but they took no notice of it and still advanced. The passage became wider. Remnants of old beams, decayed with age, projected from the walls and barred their way, but they strode over them. Suddenly the end of the procession found itself plunged in darkness – the torch had disappeared. The overseer and several others had finally reached the old gallery.
He gave the order to light several torches. Now they saw the old gallery stretching before them. The rock appeared intact. When the torches were raised, the roof was seen to be still solid, though here and there water filtered through. On the ground was a pool in the midst of which a slight gurgling noise was heard, evidently caused by a subterranean spring. A long thread of water escaped from this pool, flowing to the exit from the gallery which opened on the shaft. The miners followed it.
"Stop, comrades!" said the chief miner, turning round. "Wait for me here a moment. I will first go alone and see if there is any danger in proceeding farther."
In alarm, the miners halted, keeping close one to another. The overseer's torch gradually became more distant and soon was only a little luminous point in the darkness. Then they saw this little point stop, rise and sink again, finally rest motionless, and soon commence to grow larger as it approached. Then the overseer's figure was distinctly seen. His face was pale with alarm. He approached the miners without speaking, while they also remained silent.
"My friends, there is nothing left us but to die!"
A strong agitation ran through the crowd of miners. The overseer approached the exit of the gallery, and at the risk of falling into the shaft, he leant over and lit it up with his torch. Then one could see to what extent the mine had been damaged. Huge fragments of rock were displaced and threatened to fall at any moment. One great block undermined by the water had been detached immediately above the shaft, whose opening it obstructed, destroying all hope of getting out that way. As for the ladders, they existed no longer.
VI
"It is impossible to go back, my friends, for in an hour or two the other gallery will fall in."
The miners listened in silence to the words of the overseer, whose words sounded hollowly. The flame of the torch quivered, agitated by currents of air coming from all sides.
"Shall we wait here?" suggested a miner timidly.
"Wait for what?"
"Perhaps help will come from outside."
"What help can one hope for, when the mine has entirely collapsed? This gallery, moreover, affords no safety. When the one we have just left falls in, this will not resist long."
There was no answer, and nothing was audible but the crackling of torches and the breath which came in gasps from many chests.
"However, I still have an idea!" said the overseer.
The crowd of miners gathered closely around him again.
"You know that this mine is next to the old abandoned one. Is there among you any one who has worked in it?"
"Only old Ivan."
"There is nothing to be done then. In the first place, he must have forgotten everything; and secondly, one cannot extract a word from him."
During this time old Ivan, who seemed to have no idea that any one was talking of him, was gazing intently into the deep darkness which filled the gallery; he stood erect, his dim eyes were wide open, and a tremor passed over his wrinkled face, the expression of which was constantly changing from one moment to another, and betrayed now terror, now a kind of joy, then surprise. Finally he put his hand before his eyes as though they could not endure a dazzling splendour which issued from that darkness.
"If he wished, he could get us out of this," said a miner. "He worked for a long time in the old mine. But we cannot reckon on him; he is not even able to speak. He has been silent for ten years."
Suddenly something startling and unexpected happened. Ivan had just seized the miner who was nearest to him by the hand, and pointed into the darkness. When the miner saw the dilated pupils of the old man's eyes, he staggered with astonishment.
"Look at him! He is going mad!" they whispered.
"Here I am!" cried Ivan, as though answering a call.
The crowd fell back from him.
"Here I am! Here I am!" repeated Ivan.
The overseer approached him with his torch uplifted. Ivan turned his face toward him radiant with an inner light.
"Look! There He is Jesus! It is sixty years since He came, and now – there He is. He is calling us!"
"But what do you see? Who is calling us?"
"Jesus, I tell you. Stop! Look! There He is standing, in a white robe. He signs to us to follow Him… Here I am, Lord! Here I am!"
Suddenly, when no one was expecting it, old Ivan snatched the torch from the overseer's hand, and held it above his head.
"Jesus will save us! I tell you He will save us all! Here I am, Lord, I am coming! Behold Him, our Lord full of mercy. I am coming! Here I am!.."
Then without looking round, or lowering the torch which he held aloft with a firm hand, the old man, suddenly grown quite cheerful, walked steadily towards the end of the gallery. Who had given this strength to his feeble legs, and straightened his hollow chest? Old Ivan was unrecognizable.
After a moment's hesitation the chief miner signed to the others to obey, and all followed the old man, holding their breath and not daring to speak. A mysterious force seemed to be guiding him, for without even looking at his feet he avoided the very numerous crevasses, and strode over huge stones which had fallen from the roof. As they went along the overseer had some more torches lit, and the crowd, which advanced in silence, was followed by a broad train of black smoke, momentarily lit up by the red reflection of the flame, and at other times lost in the increasing darkness behind them. The walls and wet roofs of the gallery were visible by its flickering light. Now and again drops of water fell on the torches with a hissing sound.
Some one behind him called to the old man, "Ivan!" but the latter did not turn his head, only gazing in front of him intently. He seemed to see some one who was only visible to himself.
"Here I am, Lord, here I am!" he repeated from time to time, and it was surprising to hear how his voice sounded like that of a young man. What strange cause had roused him so far as to restore to him his former strength, and what inner flame glowed within him?
"Who is there then?" asked the chief miner, catching him up. "Whom do you see, Ivan?"
"It is a very long time since I saw Him. When I was a little fellow, I saw him often. There He is in front of me, all in white. I see His halo. He marches in the darkness like the sun… Here I am, Lord, here I am!"
After that no one asked Ivan any more questions.
At the end of the gallery they came up against an obstructing wall formed by the rock itself; but the old man seemed to see a gleam of light.
"Here He has passed … here! There are His shining footsteps," he said, pointing to the blocks of earth which lay on one side.
The miners began to ply their picks. The earth was so soft that in a few seconds an opening was made through which the air rushed with such violence that it nearly extinguished the already flickering flames of the torches. It was plain that the gallery extended still much farther, and that if just where it turned round the rock it was obstructed by a mass of earth, this must be caused by a landslip.
Before they had time to enlarge the opening which had been made, the old man had already entered it.
"I see Him! There He is! I come, Lord. I come!" These words were heard from the other side of the passage which was lit up by old Ivan's torch. The miners followed him, crawling one after the other.
On the other side of the opening the gallery, which was hollowed through the rock itself, was much higher. The torches showed seams of flint and strata of white marble. The air circulated freely, and it seemed as though there were somewhere an invisible outlet; the flames of the torches flickered violently and it felt cold. A torrent of water fell down from the top of the rocky walls, and ran noisily along the gallery, winding from one wall to another. Soon it fell roaring into the black gaping mouth of a crevasse and disappeared in the bottomless depth. Still holding his torch high, Ivan skirted the precipice without appearing to notice it.
"There is one thing I should like to know," said a little boy, pressing up close to a miner in the gloom.
"What is that?" asked the latter in a low voice.
"What is it the old man sees there?"
"Hush! Some heavenly power is guiding him."
The gallery through which they were passing just now still formed part of the Voskressensky mine, but it had been deserted for a long time, after having been worked out. As it had been cut through the native rock, the walls were solid and unshakable. Suddenly Ivan stopped.
"Well, what is it?"
"He is there… Standing. Oh, listen! Do you hear?"
Ivan leant forward, straining his ear to catch mysterious sounds. As a matter of fact distant and strange moanings were audible. Was it the complaint of a spring imprisoned in the rock? Was it the noise of a landslip? Or was it simply the sound made by a current of air passing through the fissures of the rock?
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