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Further still he dropped to the eight-hundred-foot level, where he stepped off in a narrow cavern dimly lighted and stretching away into the distant darkness. Oh, how hot it was!
They killed three horses on that same trail, and I believe gave it up in the end. Doubtless, by next year, a passable trail will have been built up to Doubtful Lake and another one up that eight-hundred-foot mountain-wall above the lake, where, when one reaches the top, there is but room to look down again on the other side.
It was just before Job had gotten ready on Saturday to shove up the pay-window and begin his weekly task, that a group of burly men, with O'Donnell, the boss of the eight-hundred-foot level, as spokesman, came in and desired to see the superintendent. Calmly that gentleman stepped up and wished to know what was wanted.
"Well, then, at the same angle, we would have to drift less than seventy feet on the seven-hundred-foot level to cut it again, and at the eight-hundred-foot we'd just about have it at the foot of the shaft. Well, I'm sinking, regardless of expense." "It might be right, boy, it might be right," Bill said, thoughtfully scowling at the plans, and going over the figures of the dip.
Dick knew the direction well enough, so he broke ahead confidently. After a half-hour's walk he crossed a tiny streamlet. After another half-hour's walk he came to another. It was flowing the wrong way. Dick did not understand this. He had never known of little streams flowing away from rivers and towards eight-hundred-foot hills. This might be a loop, of course.
It was the day that he went down to the eight-hundred-foot level that it began. He well remembered it. Up to the left of the stamp-mill, not far from the main office, was a square, red-painted building, up whose steps, just as the bell in the brick store's tower struck the set time, a procession of clean-faced miners went in and a procession of grimy ones came out.
"They howl like a mess uh coyotes," Lite observed in justification of the shot, "and I'm getting sick of hearing 'em." "Mama!" Weary, exclaimed annoyedly, "that darn fence is on an up-slope, so it's going to be next to impossible to jump it! I guess here's where we do about an eight-hundred-foot scene of Indian Warfare, or Fighting For Their Lives. How yuh feel, Cadwalloper?" "Me?"
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