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Updated: June 4, 2025
Penrose had a peculiar and pleased expression on his countenance, which Zackey observed at once. "What do 'ee grizzle like that for?" inquired the boy. "I've come on a splendid bunch of copper, Zackey," replied the man; "you and I shall make money soon. Run away to your work, lad, and come back when you hear the shot go off."
"James Penrose's late pitch," read the manager, giving the details of it in terms somewhat similar to those already sett, and stating that the required "pare," or force to be put on it, was two men and a boy. "Put me down for it," said Maggot. "Have you got your pare?" asked Mr Cornish. "Iss, sur." "Their names?" "David Trevarrow and my son Zackey."
"Zackey has forgot it," said Trevarrow, looking round. "It don't matter; hand me the borer." "No, I won't," said Trevarrow decidedly, as he grasped the iron tool in question. "Ho! Zackey booy, throw down the tampin'-bar." This was done, and the operation of filling the hole continued, while Trevarrow commented somewhat severely on his companion's recklessness.
That afternoon another accident occurred in the mine, which was of a much more serious nature than the one just recorded, and which interfered somewhat with the plans of the managing director of the Great Wheal Dooem Mining Company. Not long after his interview with Clearemout, James Penrose finished a blast-hole, and called to Zackey Maggot to fetch the fuse.
At the end of that time the hole was sufficiently deep to blast, so Maggot called out, "Zackey, my son, fetch the fuse and powder." The boy was quickly lowered with these materials, and then drawn up. Meanwhile Maggot proceeded to charge the hole, and his comrade sat down to rest. He put in the powder and tamping, and asked the other to hand him the tamping-bar.
Maggot's home was a disordered one when he reached it, for his youngest baby, a fat little boy, had been seized with convulsions, and his wife and little daughter Grace, and son Zackey, and brother-in-law David Trevarrow, besides his next neighbour Mrs Penrose, with her sixteen children, were all in the room, doing their best by means of useless or hurtful applications, equally useless advice, and intolerable noise and confusion, to cure, if not to kill, the baby.
This done, the rock was examined. "Bad still, Uncle David?" inquired the boy. "Iss, Zackey Maggot, so we'll knack'n, and try the higher mine to-morrow." Having come to this conclusion Uncle David threw down the mass of rock which he held in his brawny hands, and, picking up his implements, said, "Get the tools, booy, and lev us go to grass."
Zackey guessed correctly what had occurred, for the accident was, and alas! still is, too common in the mines. The shot had apparently missed fire. Penrose had gone forward to examine it, and it exploded in his face.
Applying his candle to the end of the fuse, he hastened along the level to a sufficient distance to afford security, warning his nephew as he passed. Zackey leaped up, and, scrambling over the debris with which the bottom of the level was covered, made good his retreat. About a minute they waited in expectancy.
But Zackey was not the boy to give way to despair, or to act thoughtlessly, or in wild haste in this emergency. He suddenly recollected that there was a rope somewhere about the level. He sought for and found it.
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