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In the miners barracks at the end of October the second shift's noontime meal was in
progress and the men, tightly packed at the long tables were subdued. The change in their
way of life had ultimately brought good health to none of them. | 'What's this shit, Betty Parsons?' Ursus complained to one of the serving women. 'If you don't like it, you got no need to eat it. That's as good as we get.' 'Ol' Hag!' Ursus spat at Betty. His eyes were bloodshot, his face beneath his beard was pale, there were boils on his back, cold sores on his lips and coal dust ingrained into his hair, skin and clothing. 'Learn some manners, Ursus Griffon, or I'll get a foreman. We'll see if you spit at him.' Betty grabbed Ursus' hair and pulled. Restricted by the presence of others, Ursus could not quickly turn to defend himself. 'Damn woman!' he roared. 'I've had enough of this!' 'Stop that, now!' Muriel, the head woman, detached herself from a group of serving women and came threading her way between the tables. 'What's going on? I'll fetch O'Grady.' 'Fetch him then. Thins food stinks woman. I want to complain.' 'Well, I'm in charge and you've made your complain. Now sit down before you find yourself knocked down.' 'No!' bellowed Ursus. 'Ursus Griffon never lived to see the day he took orders from no cow!' From across the mess hall the foreman Johnson came swiftly, club in hand. Ursus was too preoccupied to see him coming and Johnson struck him hard so that he slumped down. 'Next time I'd take what I got, if I was you, Griffon.' 'He wouldn't get nothing if I had anything to do with it.' said Muriel pushing her toe into Ursus' back and glowered at the men about him. 'And plenty others too.' Willis and another man sitting beside him pulled Ursus to his feet as Johnson and Muriel moved off. Ursus stirred the bowl of mash with his finger. 'This stuff is trash! Why don't they get things working better? Let fellas like me go out and do some hunting so we'd have some decent food?' 'It doesn't seem to be their way,' said Carl who was sitting across from him. 'That's got worse since them faeries arrived,' said Willis, referring to the recent arrival of a group of men from the town called Lettuce who were all albinos. Although the men of Lettuce were also considerably larger and stronger on average than the Dentonsville men this had not put a damper on the derision that seems to come so naturally to human kind when confronted with something a little different, especially if it also may pose a competitive threat. The men of Lettuce had been put on the third shift and their arrival had forced some of the Dentonsville men who had originally been assigned quarters on the floor above back on to the second. Rubbing his head, Ursus looked about him. The serving women were already packing up their utensils and carrying them off and men everywhere were gleaning the last morsels of food from their bowls. 'It's not as if there's that much work. Last night, how long d'you reckon we sat doing nothing? Five hours I'd say. They wouldn't even let us burn our lamps. Can't waste that burning stone, says Mr. Johnson. You know how long I been a hunter? Nineteen years. My Pa first took me out five years after he stuck me in my Ma and I were glad to see the back of him. Now, when I'm down in that hole I feel like I got to touch somebody just to feel 'em by me. One of these days I'll reach out and touch something that won't be human. No, sir! That'll be all dead and rotting. Like glue. Like this shit they make us eat. Cold that'll be. Cold and icy. Before I know what's going on that'll be the end of me.' 'That's right,' said Willis. 'Who knows what in that mine?' 'I know. Ghosts. Souls with not a drop of rest left to 'em. Like water: always running or stinking. Waiting to suck you in.' 'You don't really believe that, Griffon,' said Johnson who had come up behind Ursus again, club in one hand, whistle in the other. 'Why not, Mr. Johnson?' The foreman appeared a little scared and Ursus sniggered at the impression he had made. Then the foreman turned away, blowing his whistle, signaling the meal's end and the men left quickly, having learned that to be tardy was to invite recriminations from their foremen. In the dormitory the stench was overpowering. Ursus held his nose as he walked with Carl past the washhouse. 'You think with all this mess they'd let us go outside. They don't give us anything. Food, women, a decent place to shit. I'd shit out of the window if I could get my ass out. They say when Bluemud did the inspection he couldn't stand the smell. Turned all green and puked. Fella on the first shift told me that.' 'That was probably when he smelled you, Ursus,' came a shout, followed by general laughter. Ursus waved good naturedly and sat down on his bunk. 'He said they didn't have that problem so bad downstairs. Didn't say why, though. I bet them faeries got a problem up there. Come down through that floor, one of these days' Carl climbed up to his bunk above Ursus and opened the adjacent window. He sat there thinking of the dismal prospect for the rest of the day: the cold, damp darkness of the mine. 'Shut the window, Corporal. Letting all that cold air in.' 'Its always either too hot or too cold for you, Ursus,' said Carl irritably. 'This is the best part of the day. You can smell the wind.' 'If you want that open, try when it's warmer.' Ursus closed the window with a bang and Carl lay back on his bunk, not wanting to get into an argument. These days everybody seemed to argue about every little thing. 'Better be getting your stuff together, too,' said Ursus. 'You'll get yourself in the stockade again if there's an inspection.' 'There won't be,' said Carl. 'It's pay day. O'Grady'll be there. It's too much trouble for him. Anyway, that big mouth of yours nearly got you in it yourself just now.' 'I'm going to get it sooner or later, the way things are going,' said Ursus with as much cheer as he could muster. 'Might as well be sooner.' As Carl began to collect his gear from his locker a foreman appeared in the doorway at the end and blew his whistle. The gangs filed out in order. They lined up outside the barracks while their roll was called. Then Foreman Johnson made an announcement to his gang. 'Now, you men, today we got a special treat. In honor of these new men that's come in on the third shift, Mr. Bluemud's going to give us a few words. Since it's pay day, afterwards you'll stop at the station to collect your chits. Mr. O'Grady'll be there to keep an eye on that, so you'd better do it right, see? Also you'll all get a day's holiday later in the week. That'll be what they call a Special Day, though that don't apply to none of you. Now, it's not for me to question the Boss but some of don't hold with miners getting days off when they've got nothing to do. We'd just as soon put you where you can do no harm. So remember, the first man that steps out of line gets what's coming to him. O.K. get moving.' By now the miners understood Johnson's meaning perfectly. They enjoyed the walk to the mine which was the only outdoor exercise they were permitted. The valley was a beautiful place, especially near the station where the woods thinned out and the distant hills and crags could be seen. They had been at Granite Gorge more than five months now, yet they had seen no more of the valley than could be seen from this road. |
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