A few yards farther this new tunnel began to ascend slightly, and he again mysteriously lost his view of the miners' lamps, and was compelled to grope his way more slowly, yet ever carefully counting his steps.

The roof sank with the advance until it became so low he was compelled to stoop.

The sound of picks smiting the rock was borne to him, made faint by distance, but constantly growing clearer.
There he came to another curve in the tunnel.
He crouched upon one knee, peering cautiously around the edge in an effort to discover what was taking place in front.

The scattered lights on the hats of the miners rendered the whole weird scene fairly visible.

There were two narrow entries branching off from the main gallery not more than thirty feet from where he lay.