Peasant Tales of Russia Part 3

"It is a very long time since I saw Him. When I was a little fellow, I saw him often. There He is in front of me, all in white. I see His halo.

He marches in the darkness like the sun.... Here I am, Lord, here I am!"

After that no one asked Ivan any more questions.

At the end of the gallery they came up against an obstructing wall formed by the rock itself; but the old man seemed to see a gleam of light.

"Here He has pa.s.sed ... here! There are His shining footsteps," he said, pointing to the blocks of earth which lay on one side.

The miners began to ply their picks. The earth was so soft that in a few seconds an opening was made through which the air rushed with such violence that it nearly extinguished the already flickering flames of the torches. It was plain that the gallery extended still much farther, and that if just where it turned round the rock it was obstructed by a ma.s.s of earth, this must be caused by a landslip.

Before they had time to enlarge the opening which had been made, the old man had already entered it.

"I see Him! There He is! I come, Lord. I come!" These words were heard from the other side of the pa.s.sage which was lit up by old Ivan's torch. The miners followed him, crawling one after the other.

On the other side of the opening the gallery, which was hollowed through the rock itself, was much higher. The torches showed seams of flint and strata of white marble. The air circulated freely, and it seemed as though there were somewhere an invisible outlet; the flames of the torches flickered violently and it felt cold. A torrent of water fell down from the top of the rocky walls, and ran noisily along the gallery, winding from one wall to another. Soon it fell roaring into the black gaping mouth of a creva.s.se and disappeared in the bottomless depth.

Still holding his torch high, Ivan skirted the precipice without appearing to notice it.

"There is one thing I should like to know," said a little boy, pressing up close to a miner in the gloom.

"What is that?" asked the latter in a low voice.

"What is it the old man sees there?"

"Hush! Some heavenly power is guiding him."

The gallery through which they were pa.s.sing just now still formed part of the Voskressensky mine, but it had been deserted for a long time, after having been worked out. As it had been cut through the native rock, the walls were solid and unshakable. Suddenly Ivan stopped.

"Well, what is it?"

"He is there.... Standing. Oh, listen! Do you hear?"

Ivan leant forward, straining his ear to catch mysterious sounds. As a matter of fact distant and strange moanings were audible. Was it the complaint of a spring imprisoned in the rock? Was it the noise of a landslip? Or was it simply the sound made by a current of air pa.s.sing through the fissures of the rock?

"A terrible thing happened here. Blood has been shed, yes, yes, I remember," murmured the old man, talking to himself and glancing about him. "Yes, it is there. He struck him on the head with his pick. He killed his brother ... like Cain. This is where they buried him.... Here I am, Lord, here I am!" And he resumed his march.

The chief miner who had heard him remembered a long-forgotten tragedy, that of two brothers who had quarrelled just here. The elder, goaded to fury by the jeers of the younger, had raised his pickaxe and struck his brother with the point. Without even uttering a cry, the latter had collapsed. He had been probably buried on the spot where he had fallen.

VII

However, the more they went on, the more alarmed the miners grew.

Whither was the old man leading them? What would happen if they lost themselves in the labyrinth of these subterranean galleries, whose silence had not been disturbed for long years? The darkness itself seemed startled by the sight of this terrified crowd. The miners would have gladly halted, but what would happen then? To go back was to go to certain destruction. As long as they followed Ivan, they had a vague hope of some mysterious aid, reckoning on the unknown power which supported him and had restored to him for some hours a little of his former vigour for the deliverance of his comrades perhaps. Those who had no belief in this hesitated nevertheless to separate from the rest, knowing not what to do in this silence and darkness. If they had to die, they would die together. At any rate, they soon understood that they would have inevitably perished in the gallery which they had just left, for they had hardly been following the old man for an hour when a dull and prolonged sound was heard in the distance. Then it came nearer, as though it were pursuing them. Its last echo seemed to them quite close, behind the wall they were skirting at that moment. It was evident that the gallery where they worked, as well the one which they had just quitted, had both fallen in. If they had remained there, they would have shared the fate of those of their comrades whose hands and feet only were projecting from the ma.s.s of earth which covered them.

The distant shock also re-echoed in the gallery they were traversing when they heard it. Fragments of earth fell from the roof and a great rock suddenly projected just above old Ivan's head, while the wall on the right hand bulged out. The miners rushed forward terrified, but Ivan stopped them and made them go more slowly. Some cowards flung themselves on their stomachs and hid their faces, but they were lifted up and obliged to proceed. The gallery they were now in became narrower and narrower. After having begun their march five abreast, they could now only go two by two with difficulty. A few minutes more, and they were obliged to walk in single file. Then the chief miner let the rest go in front of him and took the last place. He was among the few who had not lost their heads and acted thus, lest some cowards might remain behind stretched on the ground in an access of blind fear.

The gallery became ever more contracted. However, that did not seem to trouble old Ivan, who continued to advance with confidence. He still saw distinctly the white Apparition Who shed a mysterious radiance in the darkness. From time to time he murmured, "Here I am Lord, here I am!" and that renewed his strength.

Even now when his two elbows touched the walls, and the lowness of the rocky roof above his head prevented him raising his torch which he was obliged to hold in front of him a little slanted and at arm's length, the old man never doubted that he was guided by our Lord in person, Who pointed him out the way. Behind him the miners were half suffocated because the thick smoke of the torches filled the narrow pa.s.sage in which it was difficult to breathe, as the confined atmosphere had been unchanged for an immeasurable time. This was apparent by the way in which the flames of the torches lengthened themselves, seeming to seek the oxygen they required, and then burning dimly in the darkness.

All at once Ivan halted. He was confronted by a dead wall without any apparent outlet. However, doubt was not possible for him, for he had distinctly seen the white Apparition pa.s.s through the wall. Now it was waiting for him on the other side of the wall which had so unexpectedly intervened.

"He has stopped there; I have seen Him!" Ivan stretched out his lean arm in front of him, no one knew why.

The chief miner decided to make a last attempt, "Let us dig, my children! We must make a way for ourselves."

But though he gave the order, he doubted whether there was anything on the other side of the wall but a ma.s.s of earth, rocks and ore.

Fortunately, just here the pa.s.sage was a little wider and they could work three abreast. They set to work bravely. However, the flames of the torches exhausted the air and they grew very dim. Their smoke blinded and half-choked the miners, but they persisted and dug huge holes in the earth which was not very hard.

Leaning his back against a wall, Ivan looked straight in front of him.

He knew that behind this ma.s.s of earth and stones the Apparition which he had known so well in his childhood awaited him.

"We are buried alive!" murmured one of the men.

"Are we making any way?" asked the chief miner, ignoring the remark.

But the men, with perspiration pouring from them, continued their work without replying.

VIII

Half an hour pa.s.sed in this way. Half-suffocated, some of the miners lay down flat on the ground. Many of them hid their faces as though unwilling to see death face to face--death which seemed so horrible in this black hole so far from the earth's surface. The pickaxes and shovels which were at work on the wall which barred their progress moved but slowly. Finally, the last batch who were working stopped, having no longer the strength to continue. In vain were their chests expanded to take deeper breaths--they were stifled, their throats were contracted, blood rushed to their heads; the air was failing them. The horrible consciousness of certain death was weighing upon them. But in any case the unfortunate men would not have had the strength to escape from this grim cul-de-sac. Their torches, flung to the earth, burnt no longer, but filled with smoke the gloom in which they were plunged.

The chief miner had an attack of vertigo. At his side a young miner began to bleed copiously at the mouth; another was struggling on the ground in an epileptic fit. Some began cursing and quarrelling or accusing old Ivan and the chief miner. One man uttered a cry, for another stretched at his side, had, in his frenzy, seized him by the throat. The chief miner thought he saw red streaks in the black darkness and felt as though something damp and slimy glided over his face. He collected all his remaining strength, rose with difficulty and took up his pickaxe again. His legs tottered. Several times he buried the pick in the black ma.s.s of earth which scattered and crumbled beneath his blows; his tool sank under the projecting rock and fragments of damp earth fell with a dull sound. He felt his arms grow numb and threaten to drop the tool.

"Can any of you help me?" he murmured, but he perceived with terror that he was voiceless, for although he thought he had spoken aloud, no one had heard him. It was like a struggle in a nightmare when the dreamer sees some terrible sight, e.g., an a.s.sa.s.sin creeping towards his bed, and tries to cry but in vain, for he is dumb. He makes a fresh effort as fruitless as the last and sees the a.s.sa.s.sin's knife come nearer. A fiendish face bends over him. He collects his last strength; it seems to him that his cry must wake the whole house and be heard in the street, yet the sleeping cat curled up on his bed does not hear the feeble groan which escapes from his labouring chest, "Come and help me!"

Well, it was the end. There was nothing more to hope for. Mechanically his hand again thrust the pick under the projecting rock. He felt a shock of surprise; the pick pa.s.sed right through it; a shudder thrilled him; he clenched his teeth, made a superhuman effort, buried his pick still more deeply, throwing as much weight into it as he could, and then fell prostrate, his face towards the ground. His pickaxe had escaped from his hand and fallen through to the other side.

Through the opening thus formed there rushed a gust of refreshing air which at once increased in strength. The smoking torches which had been flung on the ground were spontaneously re-kindled. Their flame licked the walls. The miners began to breathe heavily; those who had half swooned revived a little and began to move. Many raised their heads, drinking in the air with such avidity that they became sick. The chief miner crept with difficulty through the opening and began to breathe with deep gasps the vivifying air.

"It is there ... there!" repeated old Ivan dreamily.

"Yes, old man, it _is_ there, you are right," the miners answered, suddenly recovering their courage.

All the men who had been half-insane a moment before were now convinced that they were saved. In any case, it was a respite; they would not die yet. Death had been left behind in the race once more; they would be able to wrestle with it, and they must profit by this respite to get out of this place. If they had to die after all, well, they would die, but elsewhere, not in this cramped black hole. They set to work again, and this time so zealously that in a short time they succeeded in clearing away the ma.s.s of earth which obstructed the opening into the neighbouring gallery. To judge from the quant.i.ty of air which came from below they guessed it must be much larger than the narrow pa.s.sage in which they were working. They hastened to work at this outlet which promised deliverance. The pickaxes struck the rocks violently, and the shovels dug deeply. They disputed with each other the right to work, and he who could clear away the most won; they nearly came to blows in order to dig near the opening in order to reach the new pa.s.sage. The opening grew larger every moment. Old Ivan glanced at it and his face grew radiant with joy, because he saw beyond it the white Apparition waiting.

"Here I am, Lord, here I am!" he murmured, and if his comrades had not prevented him, he would have tried to pa.s.s through the opening at the risk of blocking it up.

After another half-hour of work they could pa.s.s through the opening, although they had to stoop very low. The chief miner went first followed by all the rest. Once he was in the new gallery, old Ivan lifted his torch as high as before.

"I have never seen this gallery!" exclaimed the chief miner. He turned towards Ivan, but at the sight of him the words died in his throat, and he could only stammer, "What is the matter?"

Great tears were running down the old man's wrinkled cheeks; he was contemplating with an expression of profound grief the dark entrance of a side gallery.

"Well, old man! What is the matter?" the miners asked, surrounding him.

He continued to gaze in the same direction. "Does this place remind you of something?" asked the chief miner. They all listened eagerly for his answer.

"It is here that my mother was buried in a landslip. Yes, here on this side."