DIGGING FOR SALT
Early the next morning Mr. Vanter went to the spring-glade, and started the two men at work, sinking the shaft, which they had to abandon so suddenly the day before. The surveyor decided on going straight down, instead of in at a slant, which he had at first believed best. Roger and Adrian watched the operations with interest, as did a throng of people, who were not disturbed as they gathered about the spot. The good news had gone all over Cardiff, and there was not a person, excepting the plotters, but what rejoiced at Mr. Kimball's fortune in saving his land.
The digging progressed slowly, as only a small shaft was to be sunk, and but one man could work in it at a time. For three anxious days the labor went on, the hole in the ground becoming deeper and deeper. The man whose turn it was to go into the excavation was below the level of the surface now. Mr. Kimball, and all his family, as well as the neighbors, were wondering whether or not salt would be struck in sufficient quantities to make the venture pay. If not, it would have been better had Mr. Kimball accepted the offer of Mr. Ranquist. Two days more of digging would tell the story. And those two days were filled with anxious uneasiness on the part of all in the farmhouse. The work went on early and late, and Mr. Kimball neglected all but the most necessary of his duties to watch the progress.
The sinking of the shaft was done in rather a primitive fashion. A hole, almost like that dug for a well, was started, and, when the bottom got so far below the surface that the earth could no longer be tossed out, the men rigged up a windlass and rope, on the end of which was a large bucket, into which the dirt was placed to be hauled up and dumped.
It happened on Wednesday, just a week after the day when the farm was saved, that the men had dug down about thirty feet. Toward the close of the afternoon Roger and Adrian, who were constantly at the mine, had strolled away, and were up in the woods, looking for signs of foxes, which were plentiful that year. They were sitting on a log, idly tossing stones at an old stump, when Adrian suddenly called: "Hark!"
They both listened intently. A faint cry came to them.
"Sounds like some one hollering," said Roger.
"It is!" exclaimed Adrian. "And it's down by the salt mine. Maybe they've struck the white crystals. Let's hurry up and see."
Together they started off. As they came nearer the sounds were louder, and then, they seemed to be, not shouts of delight at the discovery of something long wished for, but, rather, cries of distress.
"Some one's hurt!" said Roger, increasing his pace.
The boys had reached the edge of the spring-glade now, and could see the mouth of the shaft. But there was no one near it, not even the usual crowd of curious people, Mr. Vanter and Mr. Kimball had, for the time being, gone away, so the scene was deserted. Neither of the two workmen, one of whom should have been at the windlass, was to be noticed.
"There's been an accident!" exclaimed Adrian.
"I guess the man's fallen down the shaft," said Roger, referring to the missing laborer. "That's it," he added excitedly. "They're both down there! Hear 'em calling?"
And, sure enough, that was where the cries for help came from. The boys ran and peered down into the depths of the hole. For a moment, because of the darkness, they could make out nothing. Then, as their eyes became used to the blackness, they observed, dimly, two figures, at the bottom of the deep excavation. And the figures were those of the two workmen, who seemed to be struggling in desperation. Every now and then would come a terrified cry from one of them:
"Help! Help! Help!"
"What shall we do?" shouted Adrian, almost trembling in the excitement.
"We must get them out!" exclaimed Roger. "Let's call to them, to let 'em know we're on hand."
"Hello! Hello!" yelled Adrian down the shaft. "Hello! What's the matter? What shall we do to help you?"
"Wind up—the—rope! Turn the—windlass!" came faintly from below.
"That's it!" cried Roger, as he seized the crank. "Turn, Ade! Turn!"
The two boys worked the windlass, straining in desperation. It taxed their strength to the utmost, for the weight at the other end of the rope was very heavy. Roger was the first to realize that, in their fear, both men were clinging to the cable, and trying to be brought to the surface at the same time.
"Stop turning," said Roger to Adrian. Then the boys fastened the windlass by the catch at the side of the cog wheel, put there for the purpose. Next, Roger leaned over and shouted down:
"One on the rope at a time! We can't haul you both up together!"
"All right!" came the answer from the black depths. "Jim'll try it first."
There was a perceptible slacking of the rope, and then Roger and Adrian began winding up the windlass again. This time it was much easier to turn the handle. As the strands of the cable coiled over the drum, foot by foot, they brought up, into the light of day, first the head, then the body of one of the laborers. His face showed the terror he felt, and the boys noticed, with great surprise, that he was dripping wet.
"Hurry!" called Jim. "Tom's down there yet. Lower the rope."
He unfastened it, from where he had looped it beneath his arms, and tossed it dangling into the hole. It ran out quickly over the drum. There came a cry from below to indicate that Tom had the end. Then, giving him time to adjust it, Jim began to turn quickly, replacing the boys, and soon the other workman was brought up. He too was soaking wet.
"I tell you, that was a narrow squeak!" exclaimed Tom, removing the rope.
"You're right," chimed in Jim. "As close as I ever want."
"Did you fall in a well?" asked Roger, wondering why the men were so damp.
"Indeed we did, my boy," answered Tom. "And it was a salt well, of the saltiest water I ever tasted. Pah! My mouth is full of it yet."
"Then there isn't any salt mine down there," went on Roger in a disappointed tone, his interest in that matter overshadowing, for a moment, his joy at having helped save the men.
"Nary a bit of a salt mine," said Tom. "But I'll back the salt lake down there, against most anything outside of Utah. Hey, Jim?"
"That's right," assented his companion, wiping the salt water from his eyes.
"How did it happen?" asked Adrian.
"Now you're talkin'," said Tom. "We were diggin' away, or rather I was, and Jim was up above. I'd got about as deep as where Mr. Vanter said we ought to strike rock salt, and I was givin' some hearty blows with my pick, when, all on a sudden, the pick goes through with a pop, jest like when you stick a pin in one of them red balloons you buy at the circus. First thing I knew I was up to my neck in water saltier 'n' any ever tasted. Wow! But I didn't know what I'd struck, the Atlantic Ocean or the Dead Sea."
"I guess it was a little of both," interposed Jim.
"Right you are, Jim. Well, as it happened I landed right on a ledge of rock, or I might have gone on clean through to China," resumed Tom. "As soon as I got my wind I sung out to Jim. All the while I was holdin' on to a projectin' stone in the side of the shaft. When I yelled to Jim I wanted him to lower the rope to me. But he got excited, or something and, after he had unwound it, and lowered it, he shinned down it himself, hand over hand. Then before he could stop himself he was in the water with me, both of us as wet as drowned rats, at the bottom of a shaft thirty feet deep. We could just make out to find room on the narrow ledge, or we'd both been in the bottomless pit. We tried to climb up the rope, but, not bein' sailors or circus fellows, we didn't make out worth a cent. So we both began to yell as hard as we could, and—well, you know the rest. My! Oh! But it's glad we are that you boys came along when you did, or we'd both be fairly pickled away in brine for the winter. How about it, Jim?"
"That's what," said Jim, heartily, wringing about a quart of salt water from his coat.
"But I can't understand how the brine got down there," said Roger. "Mr. Vanter expected to strike rock salt, and the white crystals I brought up were certainly solid enough. I can't see why there should be salt water, unless there's a spring of fresh water that has become brine from dissolving the rock salt. I must hurry to tell Mr. Vanter."
The boys and men went toward the farmhouse together. On the way they met Mr. Vanter, who was much surprised when he heard what had happened. He hurried to the mine to make sure of it. The men went back with him, not minding the wetting, for the day was warm. Though they tried to deter him, Mr. Vanter insisted on being lowered down the shaft. The boys, who had also come back, were a little apprehensive, when they saw their friend the surveyor disappear down the black hole, but they were soon reassured when they heard his cheery voice shouting from the depths that he was all right, and that he had found a place to stand. In a few minutes he signalled to be drawn up, and, when he reached the surface he looked delighted, instead of disappointed, as the boys had expected.
"Is the salt mine a failure?" asked Roger, anxiously.
"The salt mine is," said Mr. Vanter.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Roger and Adrian together.
"But the salt spring is the biggest kind of a success," added Mr. Vanter, smiling. "In fact, we've struck the same conditions that exist beneath the city of Syracuse. Instead of mining for salt we shall have to pump for it, which is cheaper and better. Boys, I can see big things in this for you. A pipe line can be run out to Syracuse, and transportation charges will be saved. Tom, that last pick stroke of yours was a mighty lucky one."
"I didn't think so at the time," remarked Tom, as he saw the white salt crystals appearing on his clothes, now that the sun was evaporating the water.
"Hurrah for the Kimball Salt Spring!" cried Adrian, throwing his hat high in the air, and Roger joined in heartily, turning a summersault to show how glad he felt.
"Now to test the brine," said Mr. Vanter, as he sent the men for a pump and the necessary pipes. "But I have no doubt, from the fact that the general character of this valley is the same from here to Syracuse, that we have a fine quality of solution. You have struck it rich, Mr. Kimball," he went on, as the farmer approached, all excitement over the news. "We haven't a mine for you, but we have something better," and he told him what had taken place.
"Wa'al, I knowed suthin' good 'd come outen what seemed dark prospects at fust," said the old farmer, calling to mind the bad news of the loss of his money in the railroad shares, and the mortgage foreclosure. "I knowed suthin' good 'd come, 'n' it's all along a' Roger here. I sha'n't forgit it, nuther," he added, and Roger, fearing some one was going to praise him in public, hurried to the house.