Fields of Gold Read online

  He’d found he had a natural swing and powerful drive down the fairway. He still had a lot to learn but his caddy was giving him plenty of helpful advice and he was surprised at how much he enjoyed the game that he had formerly scoffed at.

  He was feeling especially pleased with himself, having avoided all of the bunkers and landed with his chip onto the far rim of the green, when the earth moved beneath him, followed by a loud explosion. The trembling continued as he hauled his golf buddy from the bunker.

  ‘Rock burst!’ he yelled, familiar with the fearful sound.

  One of the caddies was on his knees, terrified, while a second found himself on his backside in the sand. But Jack didn’t dawdle in his surprise. He yelled some orders to the caddies before turning his attention to his playing partners. ‘Let’s go. All hands on deck!’

  And they were running as fast as they could towards William’s Shaft.

  Jack arrived first into pandemonium. The rescue centre’s team, which had only been set up the previous year, was yet to hit the scene and worried men were already forming into groups as no one wanted to wait. Defying the new rescue protocol, eager volunteers were being asked for but only people with deep-mine experience were being selected.

  Jack didn’t hesitate. ‘Mr Collins,’ he called to the shaft’s duty supervisor. ‘Let me go. I’ve been to many an accident in the Penzance mines.’

  ‘None this deep, lad. It’s happened at seven hundred feet, we think.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ve carried enough men up on my back in my time. Let me go.’

  Collins nodded. ‘Get geared up. We’re lowering in the next few minutes.’

  Jack ran over to where he counted fifteen men, who were pulling on whatever safety equipment they could assemble between them, which wasn’t much now that there was a dedicated rescue squad.

  ‘How many down there?’ he asked.

  ‘Possibly twenty-five to thirty, one white and one Anglo-Indian included.’

  Jack knew the last comment shouldn’t be relevant, but in this tight-knit community, it was overwhelmingly important. The first wave of the Indian families whose husbands and brothers, uncles and fathers, were potentially buried hundreds of feet down beneath killing rock arrived at the shaft. A cordon had already been set up to keep them back and the loud keening escalated as women began to beat their chests and wail for their men.

  ‘Should we wait until the rescue team arrives?’ Jack wondered aloud.

  ‘Can you stand by and wait? Look at the fear in those faces. We have to do something.’

  ‘You’re right.’

  ‘Let’s go,’ Collins yelled. ‘Divide into teams of three. The rescue squad should be here any minute but hopefully we can feed them the information they need to make a successful retrieval.’

  Jack formed a trio with a couple of men he knew – Arnold de Souza and Charlie Jones – and was soon being wound down in the cage that could carry up to twenty-six men in two layers. He’d been down several of the shafts in KGF, mainly out of curiosity to see how gold mining differed from tin mining, but also to feel as though he was still part of the underground community. Surface workers like Jack were often on the receiving end of scorn from those who did the ‘real work’.

  Right now, though, he wanted to be part of the crew that brought these men back safely. He knew in his heart it was an empty hope. The sound of the explosion suggested it had been a big one, so deaths were a foregone conclusion. He could feel the tension in the cage as the rescuers were all wrestling with the same notion.

  ‘Do we know anyone down there?’ he asked the man standing next to him.

  He nodded. ‘You’re thick with the Walker family, aren’t you?’

  Jack frowned.

  ‘One of the Walker boys is down there, I’m afraid.’

  He felt a surge of fear. ‘It must be a mistake.’

  ‘No mistake. Rupert has been moved to the assay department recently. I gather John Drake is with him.’

  ‘I know Drake. He’s senior.’

  ‘And a good man. He was on leave from Saturday. He should have been packing up his desk.’

  Jack ground his jaw, memories of the Levant disaster crashing back into his mind. ‘We’re going to find them.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  The cage juddered to a halt and the men were engulfed in dust. Those who had breathing apparatus counted their blessings for it. Jack was imagining what this terror would do to the Walkers, and Iris in particular. Billy’s face with its cheeky grin swam into his mind. He hadn’t been able to save Billy but he had every intention of delivering the Walkers their son … alive. But there were many other sons down here, who all had families that worshipped them, needed them. He didn’t want to care about them any less, but since hearing about Rupert, it felt like fate – as though he had been chosen.

  Try again, the heavens were saying. This time, don’t let him die.

  He could barely see anything in the darkness, despite their petromax lights. The heat was intense. Jack was already soaked through with sweat. He’d forgotten the heat of a mine and the core temperature of the rock this deep was vast, plus he realised that electricity was not available. The explosion would have knocked out the lights of any who had them.

  Arnold de Souza’s tone was filled with indignation when it punctured the silence that had enveloped them. ‘I lost my father to one of these rock bursts. But nothing’s changed in ten years; the company’s still as greedy and ruthless as ever. Safety conditions are —’

  Collins interrupted. ‘All right, de Souza. We’ve got a job to do and lives to save.’ He turned to Jack.

  ‘Bryant. You, de Souza and Jones take tunnel nine A. We know the assay was being done across nine.’ He directed others to tunnels nine B and nine C. ‘Listen to me carefully now. I want all survivors called in by runners, back to this point where I’ll station someone. But only survivors. Is that clear? We’ve got families waiting and the rescue squad will be working alongside us too. We can’t do anything for the dead right now so we’ve got to get the living out first. We’ve got two of our own down here, good men both. Let’s find them alive, please.’

  The men murmured their determination.

  ‘Get going, you nine. The rest of you, follow me.’

  De Souza led their small group with grit. At the mouth of the tunnel was a steel arch, reinforcing the entrance. Once again Jack marvelled at the construction of the South Indian mines, so much more sophisticated and advanced than any he remembered in Cornwall. Taylor & Sons spent a small fortune on modern technology and engineering to ensure these mines in KGF led the way for the rest of the world. And still accidents happen, Jack thought.

  ‘How will they breathe?’ he asked.

  ‘Pockets of air. It won’t all be like this,’ Jones said. ‘I was caught in one of these when I first started and we were fine – the lucky ones. We had a good supply of air but we lost about eighteen workers in that one.’

  ‘No more talk of loss,’ de Souza growled.

  ‘I’m not resurfacing until one of our parties has good news for the Walkers,’ Jack said. ‘Come on.’

  They walked into the dark furnace, following the ore trolley lines that looked like miniature railway tracks – another amazing engineering feat Cornish miners could only dream of.

  To Jack, walking beneath the steel reinforced arch that welcomed him into tunnel nine was like entering the gates of hell.

  Ned arrived at the shaft, which was now a hive of frenzied activity. The rescue centre squad was in place, pulling on their new safety equipment and bellowing orders.

  He turned to Iris. ‘They seem to know what they’re doing.’

  She bit her lip; her face was tear-stained, her clothes dusty and the strap of her shoe torn. Nearby women wailed, others stood by in shocked silence, while small clumps talked and pointed, muttering between themselves with pinched expressions, often stifling tears. Children clung to mothers and older sisters. The atmosphere was so tense that
Ned believed people might start throwing themselves down the shaft in their grief and despair.

  He was stirred from his thoughts by the arrival of the Walkers, and as Iris ran towards her family, he schooled his features and hoped for good news.

  Ned watched Iris crumple against her father’s chest. Rupert was definitely down there. Ned swore under his breath and then steeled himself to greet the Walker family, which was gathering in its entirety on the fringe of the shaft’s opening.

  He picked his way through the sea of colour. Saris shimmered as twilight settled, the sky looking like one of those layered jellies his mother made him to go with ice-cream on his birthday. The deep violet of evening had yet to claim the ultramarine blue, which fought to hold back night from the dusky pinks and fiery oranges closest to the sun. The night sky laid herself across KGF, gradually bathing the traumatic scene in muted shadows and soft silvering moonlight.

  Ned sped up to see the Walkers. He was met with a solid wall of gloom.

  ‘It is true?’ he asked, kissing Flora Walker.

  She wept. ‘My Rupert’s down there, Ned.’

  Ned swallowed. ‘They’ll get him out, you’ll see.’ He turned to Iris, who was still sobbing at her father’s chest. ‘Iris, I need to help where I can.’

  ‘What can you do?’ Harold asked.

  ‘Well, I can rig up some extra lighting. I’m sure every bit helps.’

  It was as though he’d magically overheard the comment because the chief of the rescue team ran over. ‘Sinclair! The guys can barely see anything for dust.’

  ‘I’m heading over to the electricity department right away.’

  ‘Good lad.’

  ‘How many unaccounted for?’ Harold asked the man.

  ‘At this stage we believe it’s twenty-eight. I’m so sorry, Mr Walker.’

  Walker nodded, as if to say no apology was required.

  ‘We’ve learned that a dozen or so men have already gone down. They didn’t wait for the professionals.’

  ‘What?’ Ned said. ‘Are they mad? You people have the best equipment in the country. The safety plan should have been followed to the letter.’

  ‘They were keen to do what they could. Very brave. I have to admire them. In fact, your friend’s one of them – very quick to raise a hand.’

  ‘Jack’s down there?’ Iris blurted.

  ‘He’s not even an underground man. I have to take my hat off to him. I had him down as a career miner.’

  ‘Will he be safe?’ Iris asked, her voice shaking.

  Ned glanced at her, jealousy nagging at him.

  ‘No one ever is down there, Miss Walker. But they’ve got fifteen minutes on us. They could get lucky and find your brother. We’re counting on them to pull off a miracle.’

  ‘Jack will find Rupert, Mum, and he’s strong enough to carry Rupert out if he has to.’

  Ned frowned. Iris sounded as though she’d known Jack all her life.

  ‘Well, thanks for the extra lighting. It can’t come too soon,’ the rescue leader said.

  Ned ran back down the hill. By the time he returned, twice as many people had gathered. A battery of Anglo-Indian women had flown into action, setting up trestle tables and running mugs of tea and coffee – even snacks – to the men working hard on the rescue.

  Ned acted swiftly with his electricity workers and before long a new skeleton with wires and plugs had been erected around the shaft entrance. When Ned threw the switch, the whole area was flooded with light. People clapped, but the applause died quickly as the rescue chief bellowed for quiet. The team needed silence to hear their colleagues and cries for help below.

  Ned backed away, happy and relieved that his part had been acquitted smoothly.

  ‘Excuse me, Master Sinclair,’ said a voice.

  He turned at his name, and looked into the exquisite face of a young Indian woman. ‘Yes?’

  She immediately covered her face with her veil. ‘You are a good friend of Master Bryant, sir?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘I am Master Bryant’s new … I work in his house and we are worried because he has not come home. We heard the siren, sir, and …’

  Ned nodded, mesmerised by her intense grey eyes. ‘Sorry, what is your name again?’

  ‘He calls me Elizabeth but my name is Kanakammal.’

  ‘Well, Kanakammal, I’m sorry to tell you but Master Bryant is part of the rescue effort.’

  ‘Have we heard from him, sir?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. Not yet. We’re hoping we will soon.’

  The young woman seemed to understand. ‘Thank you, Master Sinclair. I will let the household know.’

  ‘Hopefully both our prayers will be answered,’ he encouraged. Ned watched her retreat with long, graceful strides, her pale-grey sari silver in the moonlight. She looked like a glimmering angel as she floated lightly on her feet up the hill. She was beautiful.

  ‘Who was that?’ Iris asked from behind. He swung around.

  ‘Er, a woman who works for Jack. Apparently he calls her Elizabeth.’

  ‘Oh?’ she said, squinting slightly to pick her out. ‘She seems to have disappeared.’

  ‘She was like an apparition anyway,’ Ned remarked.

  They were walking through darkness, save what little pool of light their lamps cast. The dust had begun to settle but even so it was impossible for Jack to see his hand held out in front of him.

  ‘Do we know what’s ahead of us?’ Jack asked, suddenly realising they too could be walking straight into a natural trap.

  ‘I know the channel well enough,’ de Souza replied, ‘but who knows if it’s intact? I think it’s better for one of us to scout ahead with care, just in case.’

  ‘All right,’ Jack said. ‘I’ll go.’

  ‘No, you’re stronger than me, Bryant. If we need to carry anyone out, we’ll be relying on you. Are you feeling all right, Charlie? Your breathing sounds strained,’ de Souza said, pausing now. Jack had noticed it too.

  Charlie Jones sighed. ‘This dust, it’s making my breath ragged.’

  ‘Go back,’ Jack said immediately. ‘It’s too dangerous. Is it asthma?’

  ‘Not since I was a child,’ he wheezed, then bent over and coughed. ‘I’m sorry, lads.’

  Jones wasn’t an underground man but he could never have been taken for someone with weakened lungs. He led the KGF choir and was always shouting the loudest at football and hockey games.

  ‘You can’t come any further, Charlie,’ de Souza warned. ‘You’ll have to go back.’

  They all turned to stare into the blackness behind them. In that instant Jack and de Souza both realised it was probably more dangerous to let Charlie walk back alone.

  Jack ground his jaw. ‘I’ll get him to the rendezvous point. I’ll be back quickly.’

  De Souza nodded. ‘Be careful.’

  ‘You too. Just wait here. No heroics, all right? If we stick together, we’ve got a better chance of getting out. Have you got matches, just in case?’

  De Souza dug a pack of Tiger matches from a pocket and shook them.

  Jack and Charlie headed back down the lonely path they had just come. It took Jack at least another fifteen minutes to deposit Jones at the meeting point. Jack set straight out again alone, passing beneath the steel of the tunnel again and noticing the huge steel fire doors this time. He was more sure now of his footing and could move faster through the murky tunnel. His lamp cast an eerie glow and dust particles danced in the air. Jack held his lamp higher; large sections of the tunnels were reinforced with pine liners, interspersed with steel for additional strength.

  The glitter of a vein of gold running at about shoulder height caught his attention. He had seen this only once before and couldn’t help but marvel at the glinting line that tempted men so deep into the earth. He touched the seam of gold in quiet respect. KGF’s combined mines yielded roughly two massive blocks of gold per month. ‘If you can pick it up, you can keep it!’ said a sign in the smelting room, where
impossibly heavy ingots were poured.

  About halfway back to de Souza he heard a loud rumble and instinctively he crouched, covering his head with his arms, awaiting the landslide of rock. Nothing happened. He was crouched in a black silence.

  ‘Arnold!’

  The only reply was his own voice echoing into the void. He tried again. He knew he was close enough for de Souza to have returned his yell. A knot tightened in his belly as he straightened in the blackness and tentatively felt his way forward. After five minutes of agonisingly slow, careful steps, he felt sure he had reached the point where he had left de Souza.

  ‘Arnold, are you there?’ he yelled and once again he heard his own voice echoing down the passage, mocking his fear.

  He was torn. His head told him he should turn back; alert the teams that he believed there’d been another rockfall. The rescue squad needed all the information it could muster. But his heart overrode his head. His instincts told him that de Souza might be in trouble and to turn away now was to desert someone in need. Then he heard a muted groan. He held his breath and waited, his ears straining for a sound – anything that would give him more information than he had right now. He began to think he was simply hearing his own heartbeat. But then he heard it again. A man’s voice, calling his name.

  ‘Arnold? Arnold, where are you?’

  ‘Jack.’ The voice was louder, but not by much.

  ‘Tap on something. Guide me to you.’

  ‘Keep back!’ the voice warned. There’s nothing in front of you.’

  ‘All right,’ Jack said, soothing de Souza’s fear with his own forced calmness. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘I’m trapped,’ de Souza said. ‘I feel numb.’

  ‘Is your light working? Can you shine your lamp in front and I’ll do the same?’

  ‘No. I must have dropped it.’

  ‘Then bang on something.’

  Jack heard a small stone on the wall. ‘I think I have you. Now, just be still.’ He held his own lamp high, but what he saw before him was devastating.