“Then why was he afraid?”

Scott looked thoughtful.  “I imagine he was afraid of the rapid and the dark.  When he hailed us to take him over, I thought it an excuse; he could have got across in his own canoe if he had braced up.  My notion is he didn’t want to make the trip by himself.”  He paused and gave Thirlwell a keen glance.  “Curious, isn’t it?”

“He’s a curious man,” said Thirlwell, who had dark suspicions that he did not want to talk about.  “When we were drifting into the rapid, I got a glimpse of his face and didn’t look again.  Thought I’d better not; the fellow’s nerve had gone.  Anyhow, if he hates the rapid, why does he stop here and live near the bank?”

“Steve is primitive; I guess you don’t understand him yet.  He’s an old trapper and one gets superstitious in the bush.  For all that, he’s stubborn, and if he has an object, he’ll persist until he carries it out.”

“But what object has he got?”

Scott made a vague gesture.  “I can’t tell you that.  Hadn’t you better get out the plates?  I want some food.”

Thirlwell put a frying-pan on the stove and they talked about something else.

CHAPTER XVI

THE PIT-PROP

Driscoll was sorting pit-props, throwing them on to piles at the bottom of the shaft, when Thirlwell stopped to hook a small, flat lamp to his hat.  The man sometimes worked in the mine for a few weeks when the trapping season was over, and Scott was generally willing to engage him because he was skilful with the axe and labor was scarce.  He made no friends among the men, and gave Thirlwell a sour look without speaking when the latter picked up his lamp.

Thirlwell went on down the inclined gallery.  Water splashed upon his slickers and trickled about his feet; the tunnel was narrow and the air was foul.  Here and there a smoky light burned among the props lining the walls, and the dim illumination touched the beams that crossed the roof, but the gaps between the spots were dark.  The timbers were numerous, and where one could see a short distance, ran on into the gloom in rows so closely spaced that they seemed continuous.

By and by Thirlwell found Scott looking up at a massive beam a few inches overhead.  The beam was not quite level, and the prop beneath one end had bent, while a threatening crack extended across the roof.

“We may have a bad fall here,” Scott remarked.  “The prop’s getting shaky and the pressure’s pretty fierce.  I reckon we’d better shore her up as quick as we can.  It’s lucky our lumber doesn’t cost us much.”

Thirlwell examined the crack and thought it dangerous.  There were one or two transverse splits, which indicated a heavy mass of rock was ready to come down.  None of the men were near the spot, and he knew they were occupied, but Driscoll had left a few props between the timbers, ready for use where the roof was weak.  Thirlwell found one and dragged it to the spot.