Frank Logan, the Paradise fireman, did not get Dinning’s note. The note lay in the darkness covered with some blood, clenched in the completely severed hand of Geordie Dinning. But Frank heard the slight thump too and in a minute he felt the water coming knee-deep down the incline. He knew now without receiving the note that the water had holed. Fifteen men were working near him. Two of these men he ordered to go quick by the return airway to tell other men in the lower workings of the Paradise. The other thirteen he encouraged to push on to the pit-shaft one mile outbye. He himself remained. He knew that the Scupper workings were the deepest in the Paradise. He knew they would be flooded first. In the face of that he went back and down to warn the eighteen men in these workings. These men were drowned before he set out. And Frank Logan was never again seen alive.
The thirteen men pushing outbye, the men Frank Logan, the fireman, had sent outbye, reached the Atlas Drift. Here they hesitated and held a rapid conference. The Atlas connected the Paradise with the Globe Coal, which was the seam above. They decided the higher seam was less likely to hold water, that it would be safer to reach the pitshaft along Globe Coal. They went up the Drift into Globe Coal. Here they came upon some bricklayers who had been working in the main haulage road and knew nothing at all about the holing until the air reversed. The bricklayers were talking together, talking for a minute then listening for a minute, worried, not knowing whether to go outbye or remain. But now they decided to go outbye; they joined the thirteen men who had come up the Atlas Drift and proceeded all together along the main haulage road of Globe Coal towards the pit-shaft.
Three minutes later the inrush of water came down the main Paradise haulage, swept up the Atlas Drift and along the main road of Globe Coal. The men heard the water and started to run. The road was good with plenty of headroom and a hard-beaten floor and the men, all of whom were young, were able to run very fast. Some had never run faster in their lives.
But the water ran faster still. The speed of the water was terrific, it chased them with animal ferocity, surged upon them with the velocity, the inevitability of a tidal wave. One minute there was no water in Globe Coal and the next it had wiped them out.
The water swept on, reached the pit-shaft and began to spout down the shaft in tremendous volume. The meeting of the waters now took place. The water cascading from Globe Coal joined the water in Paradise pit-bottom. There was a backlash of water which swirled upon all the men who had managed to make pit-bottom and drowned them swiftly. The water then foamed round the stables and inundated the stalls.
The only four ponies still alive were in the stalls — Nigger, Kitty, Warrior and Ginger — all whinnying with terror. Warrior lashed out with heels at the water and went amuck in his stall; he almost broke his neck before he was drowned, but the others just stood whinnying, whinnying until the water rose above them. By this time the water had risen in the two main shafts, sealing both Globe and Paradise and preventing all access to the workings from the surface.
The suddenness of the calamity was unbelievable and deadly. Not more than fifteen minutes had elapsed from the instant of inrush and already eighty-nine were dead from drowning, violence or black damp suffocation.
But Robert and his mates were still alive. They were far inbye at the top of the slant and the inrush went away from them.
Robert heard the thump when it happened and fifty seconds later he felt the reversal of the air. He knew. Into himself he said: My God, that’s it. Beside him in the heading Slogger Leeming got up slowly from his knees.
“Did ye hear that, Robert, mon?” Slogger said, dazedly. Instinctively he turned to Robert for his opinion.
Robert said rapidly:
“Keep everybody here till I come back. Everybody.” He ducked out of the heading and made his way down the slant and into the Scupper ropeway. He ran along the Scupper ropeway, his ears deafened by the sound of water pouring into the ropeway. He splashed on, getting deeper and deeper over his boots, his knees, his waist. He knew he must be near the Swelly, the depression that ran north and south across the Scupper ropeway. Suddenly he lost his footing and went right out of his depth into the Swelly. The water lifted him until his head hit the whinstone roof. He clawed the roof with his hands, kicked out his legs in the water, worked himself out the way he had come. He got into his depth, waded back, stood in the shallow water, shivering with cold. He knew exactly what had happened. The inrush had roofed in the Swelly: for fifty yards a barrier of water blocked the ropeway. All the escape roads were filled to the roof where they crossed the Swelly.
The cold of the water made Robert cough. He stood coughing for a minute, then he swung round and retook his way up the slant, bumping into little Pat Reedy half-way up. Pat was very frightened.
“What’s like the matter, mester?” he asked.
“It’s nowt, Pat, mon,” Robert answered. “You come along wi’ me.”
Robert and Pat reached the top of the slant where they found the remaining men collected round Slogger. There were ten altogether and amongst them were Hughie, Harry Brace, Tom Reedy, Ned Softley, Swee Messer and Jesus Wept. They were all waiting for Robert. Although they could not guess the fact, they were the sole survivors in the Neptune pit.
“How, then, Robert?” Slogger called out as Robert came up. He looked intently at Robert.
“How, again, Slogger?” Robert paused, making everything he said sound ordinary and perfectly all right. He wrung the water out of his jacket. “They’re holed down there and let a drop water in the Swelly. But we’re high enough here not to bother about that. We must find another road outbye.”
Silence. They all knew enough to make them silent. But Tom Reedy asked:
“Can we not get through the Swelly, then?”
Slogger let out at him savagely.
“Shut up yer gob, you silly runt, until yer asked to open it.”
Robert went on as though nothing had happened.
“So what we’ll do is this, lads. We’ll travel the return airways into Globe and win outbye through the Globe.”
Keeping Pat Reedy next and very close to him Robert led the way into the return airways. All the party followed but Tom Reedy. Tom was a splendid swimmer. He knew he was a splendid swimmer both under water and above and he knew that he could swim the Swelly. Once through the Swelly it would be easy to get outbye, then he would bring help and show the Slogger whether he was a silly runt or not. Tom lagged behind till the others had gone. He ran down the slant, slipped off his boots, took a deep breath and slid into the Swelly. He swam the Swelly in one deep breath. But what Tom didn’t bargain for was the mile and a half of water beyond the Swelly. On the other side the main inrush caught him. Tom got outbye right enough. Five minutes later his body swirled gently into the sump at the bottom of the flooded shaft.
Robert crawled on, leading his party through the airway. He knew they must be near the Globe by now. Suddenly his lamp went out as if extinguished by a soft breath and at the same moment Pat Reedy choked and lay quietly down beside him. Not water this time. Black damp.