



Produced by Judy Boss





THE UNDERGROUND CITY

OR

THE BLACK INDIES

(Sometimes Called The Child of the Cavern)


Verne, Jules. _Works of Jules Verne_. Ed. Charles F. Horne. Vol. 9. New
York: F. Tyler Daniels Company, 1911. 277-394.




THE UNDERGROUND CITY



CHAPTER I. CONTRADICTORY LETTERS


To Mr. F. R. Starr, Engineer, 30 Canongate, Edinburgh.

IF Mr. James Starr will come to-morrow to the Aberfoyle coal-mines,
Dochart pit, Yarrow shaft, a communication of an interesting nature will
be made to him.

"Mr. James Starr will be awaited for, the whole day, at the Callander
station, by Harry Ford, son of the old overman Simon Ford."

"He is requested to keep this invitation secret."

Such was the letter which James Starr received by the first post, on the
3rd December, 18--, the letter bearing the Aberfoyle postmark, county of
Stirling, Scotland.

The engineer's curiosity was excited to the highest pitch. It never
occurred to him to doubt whether this letter might not be a hoax. For
many years he had known Simon Ford, one of the former foremen of the
Aberfoyle mines, of which he, James Starr, had for twenty years, been
the manager, or, as he would be termed in English coal-mines, the
viewer. James Starr was a strongly-constituted man, on whom his
fifty-five years weighed no more heavily than if they had been forty.
He belonged to an old Edinburgh family, and was one of its most
distinguished members. His labors did credit to the body of engineers
who are gradually devouring the carboniferous subsoil of the United
Kingdom, as much at Cardiff and Newcastle, as in the southern counties
of Scotland. However, it was more particularly in the depths of the
mysterious mines of Aberfoyle, which border on the Alloa mines and
occupy part of the county of Stirling, that the name of Starr had
acquired the greatest renown. There, the greater part of his existence
had been passed. Besides this, James Starr belonged to the Scottish
Antiquarian Society, of which he had been made president. He was also
included amongst the most active members of the Royal Institution; and
the Edinburgh Review frequently published clever articles signed by him.
He was in fact one of those practical men to whom is due the prosperity
of England. He held a high rank in the old capital of Scotland, which
not only from a physical but also from a moral point of view, well
deserves the name of the Northern Athens.

We know that the English have given to their vast extent of coal-mines
a very significant name. They very justly call them the "Black Indies,"
and these Indies have contributed perhaps even more than the Eastern
Indies to swell the surprising wealth of the United Kingdom.

At this period, the limit of time assigned by professional men for
the exhaustion of coal-mines was far distant and there was no dread
of scarcity. There were still extensive mines to be worked in the two
Americas. The manufactories, appropriated to so many different uses,
locomotives, steamers, gas works, &c., were not likely to fail for want
of the mineral fuel; but the consumption had so increased during the
last few years, that certain beds had been exhausted even to their
smallest veins. Now deserted, these mines perforated the ground with
their useless shafts and forsaken galleries. This was exactly the case
with the pits of Aberfoyle.

Ten years before, the last butty had raised the last ton of coal from
this colliery. The underground working stock, traction engines, trucks
which run on rails along the galleries, subterranean tramways, frames to
support the shaft, pipes--in short, all that constituted the machinery
of a mine had been brought up from its depths. The exhausted mine was
like the body of a huge fantastically-shaped mastodon, from which all
the organs of life have been taken, and only the skeleton remains.

Nothing was left but long wooden ladders, down the Yarrow shaft--the
only one which now gave access to the lower galleries of the Dochart
pit. Above ground, the sheds, formerly sheltering the outside works,
still marked the spot where the shaft of that pit had been sunk,
it being now abandoned, as were the other pits, of which the whole
constituted the mines of Aberfoyle.

It was a sad day, when for the last time the workmen quitted the mine,
in which they had lived for so many years. The engineer, James Starr,
had collected the hundreds of workmen which composed the active and
courageous population of the mine. Overmen, brakemen, putters, wastemen,
barrowmen, masons, smiths, carpenters, outside and inside laborers,
women, children, and old men, all were collected in the great yard of
the Dochart pit, formerly heaped with coal from the mine.

Many of these families had existed for generations in the mine of
old Aberfoyle; they were now driven to seek the means of subsistence
elsewhere, and they waited sadly to bid farewell to the engineer.

James Starr stood upright, at the door of the vast shed in which he
had for so many years superintended the powerful machines of the shaft.
Simon Ford, the foreman of the Dochart pit, then fifty-five years of
age, and other managers and overseers, surrounded him. James Starr took
off his hat. The miners, cap in hand, kept a profound silence. This
farewell scene was of a touching character, not wanting in grandeur.

"My friends," said the engineer, "the time has come for us to separate.
The Aberfoyle mines, which for so many years have united us in a
common work, are now exhausted. All our researches have not led to
the discovery of a new vein, and the last block of coal has just been
extracted from the Dochart pit." And in confirmation of his words, James
Starr pointed to a lump of coal which had been kept at the bottom of a
basket.

"This piece of coal, my friends," resumed James Starr, "is like the last
drop of blood which has flowed through the veins of the mine! We shall
keep it, as the first fragment of coal is kept, which was extracted
a hundred and fifty years ago from the bearings of Aberfoyle. Between
these two pieces, how many generations of workmen have succeeded each
other in our pits! Now, it is over! The last words which your engineer
will address to you are a farewell. You have lived in this mine, which
your hands have emptied. The work has been hard, but not without profit
for you. Our great family must disperse, and it is not probable that the
future will ever again unite the scattered members. But do not forget
that we have lived together for a long time, and that it will be the
duty of the miners of Aberfoyle to help each other. Your old masters
will not forget you either. When men have worked together, they must
never be stranger to each other again. We shall keep our eye on you, and
wherever you go, our recommendations shall follow you. Farewell then, my
friends, and may Heaven be with you!"

So saying, James Starr wrung the horny hand of the oldest miner, whose
eyes were dim with tears. Then the overmen of the different pits came
forward to shake hands with him, whilst the miners waved their caps,
shouting, "Farewell, James Starr, our master and our friend!"

This farewell would leave a lasting remembrance in all these honest
hearts. Slowly and sadly the population quitted the yard. The black soil
of the roads leading to the Dochart pit resounded for the last time to
the tread of miners' feet, and silence succeeded to the bustling life
which had till then filled the Aberfoyle mines.

One man alone remained by James Starr. This was the overman, Simon Ford.
Near him stood a boy, about fifteen years of age, who for some years
already had been employed down below.

James Starr and Simon Ford knew and esteemed each other well. "Good-by,
Simon," said the engineer.

"Good-by, Mr. Starr," replied the overman, "let me add, till we meet
again!"

"Yes, till we meet again. Ford!" answered James Starr. "You know that I
shall be always glad to see you, and talk over old times."

"I know that, Mr. Starr."


"My house in Edinburgh is always open to you."

"It's a long way off, is Edinburgh!" answered the man shaking his head.
"Ay, a long way from the Dochart pit."

"A long way, Simon? Where do you mean to live?"

"Even here, Mr. Starr! We're not going to leave the mine, our good old
nurse, just because her milk is dried up! My wife, my boy, and myself,
we mean to remain faithful to her!"

"Good-by then, Simon," replied the engineer, whose voice, in spite of
himself, betrayed some emotion.

"No, I tell you, it's TILL WE MEET AGAIN, Mr. Starr, and not Just
'good-by,'" returned the foreman. "Mark my words, Aberfoyle will see you
again!"

The engineer did not try to dispel the man's illusion. He patted Harry's
head, again wrung the father's hand, and left the mine.

All this had taken place ten years ago; but, notwithstanding the wish
which the overman had expressed to see him again, during that time Starr
had heard nothing of him. It was after ten years of separation that he
got this letter from Simon Ford, requesting him to take without delay
the road to the old Aberfoyle colliery.

A communication of an interesting nature, what could it be? Dochart pit.
Yarrow shaft! What recollections of the past these names brought back
to him! Yes, that was a fine time, that of work, of struggle,--the best
part of the engineer's life. Starr re-read his letter. He pondered over
it in all its bearings. He much regretted that just a line more had not
been added by Ford. He wished he had not been quite so laconic.

Was it possible that the old foreman had discovered some new vein?
No! Starr remembered with what minute care the mines had been explored
before the definite cessation of the works. He had himself proceeded
to the lowest soundings without finding the least trace in the soil,
burrowed in every direction. They had even attempted to find coal under
strata which are usually below it, such as the Devonian red sandstone,
but without result. James Starr had therefore abandoned the mine with
the absolute conviction that it did not contain another bit of coal.

"No," he repeated, "no! How is it possible that anything which could
have escaped my researches, should be revealed to those of Simon Ford.
However, the old overman must well know that such a discovery would be
the one thing in the world to interest me, and this invitation, which I
must keep secret, to repair to the Dochart pit!" James Starr always came
back to that.

On the other hand, the engineer knew Ford to be a clever miner,
peculiarly endowed with the instinct of his trade. He had not seen him
since the time when the Aberfoyle colliery was abandoned, and did not
know either what he was doing or where he was living, with his wife and
his son. All that he now knew was, that a rendezvous had been appointed
him at the Yarrow shaft, and that Harry, Simon Ford's son, was to wait
for him during the whole of the next day at the Callander