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Coal Island
Thirteen

Thirteen

A great deal of thought had gone into the cave and the use of its branches. Supplies placed in offshoots of the cave, the floors and walls flattened by hundreds of men. Further down the tunnel, a cavern opened to reveal an area large enough for several thousand men. Terraces cut into the cave floor. Ramps led to the end of the cavern, where several more caves ran deeper underground. A bridge over a chasm along a side wall accessed another cavern. As more prisoners arrived on Coal Island, the rebels simply move deeper into the caves.

Rows of bunks set upon the terraces along with fireplaces. It seemed to be an attempt to bring order to chaos. Drying laundry hung upon lines strung about the cavern. Very homey.

The cave entrance was unfortunate as well; what had once been the end of the surface fissure was now on level with the quarry floor that covered close to three acres.

A few days after the colonel’s story, Robert reached the point where he could study the quarry process without interruption. Standing on the northern lip of the quarry, Robert could easily see the reason for slow mining.

The cave and the entrance prevented any mining of the northern wall, while the ramp occupied most of the eastern wall. The South wall was the active quarry face with men using movable hoists built of logs to lift the loosened stone. Masons trimmed stone a safe distance away from the quarry face, the stone then placed on sledges and cushioned by pine boughs began the trip to the parade ground.

The west wall was Robert’s nightmare. Perhaps it was the true source of worry about the cave; a wall so close to a lake so huge. A dam that held back Lake Superior and undermined as the quarry descended into the earth. The quarry was a huge funnel leading directly to a cave containing thousands of men at night, sleeping men.

Peering into the hole at the base of the western wall, he could see over two hundred feet of beautiful blood red granite, a fortune of stone; enough money when sold to pay for years of supplies. It was a temptation easily visible to every soldier on the island, but a temptation that forced Robert to stand firm against mining. What would the pressure of winter ice do with the stone, and how would it affect any hidden flaws within the stone?

In his imagination, Robert could see a wall of water trapping and killing his men in the dark cave; it was enough to keep him standing firm against any form of greed and expediency.

All other projects proceeded at a good pace to the insistence of General Cornell.

Within the cave, cooks prepared food, cut wood stored, dozens of projects necessary to survive the winter with comfort were underway. It was within the confines of the cave that Robert felt uneasy, far worse than anything he could feel on the surface.

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Rather than time mellowing men, calming them in the presence of Coal Island, men grew more suspicious of the sounds and smells that wafted from below. It was not uncommon for men to grab a torch and explore sections of the cave within a reasonable distance. Nor was it uncommon for men to sit by their fires, smoke drifting upwards and out through a hole cut in the roof, and stare at dark shadows flickering in torchlight.

Robert himself had explored a few times, his path blocked once by a large chasm and the second time by a crack too narrow to shimmy through. Protocol demanded that he stay in his cabin at night, but Robert stayed with his men late into the evening hours, behavior he realized he shared with the General and the colonel as they too prowled the cave. No matter what cheerful attitude presented against the depredations of Coal Island, the malaise and foul feel of the very land itself, none of the men on the island could rid themselves of the taint.

Thus, it was no surprise Robert when several men came to his fire and asked that he follow them into the dark.

The ranking man of the group was a corporal named Anders; Robert had seen him several times, but never chatted. He seemed competent enough and performed his work effortlessly. He was a kind man who simply could not sit still and allow a question to pass. Here, the men had been seeking the source of the noxious fumes.

“We’ve been looking for three nights now,” Corporal Anders and the six men followed a narrow tunnel branching off one of the larger tunnels at the rear of the cave. “This place is a warren of interlacing caves. We finally started marking the walls and to make some progress.”

They descended, going from tunnel to tunnel, following a path marked by the number four carved into the walls and each intersection. Torchlight flickered off narrow tunnels that were just large enough to fit the men.

The impression Robert had was that they were making a descending circle, coiling deeper into the earth, descending a foot for every yard of distance. The smell of corruption grew stronger as time passed. Eventually, the smell became as overwhelming as the stench of a battlefield after a few days in the summer sun.

The coiling descent straightened into a long narrow tunnel that dropped slowly and contained twigs and leaves washed into the caverns.

A few more minutes of traveling brought them to a large chamber, here the men stopped and looked at Robert. Corporal Anders held out the torch, gesturing for Robert to lead the way.

“This is what we found,” the corporal shrugged with a grimace, “maybe you can understand it.”

Taking the torch, Robert worked his way into the chamber with the torch held high and his shadow flickering across the floor. His boots snapped twigs, but as he looked down, Robert realized he was now stepping on bones. He stopped walking and turned in a circle with the torch held before him and stared in amazement. The floor of the chamber lay covered with the small bones of rodents and animals, none larger than a raccoon.

The soldiers were still holding back from Robert, allowing the officer time to discover the contents of the chamber. Corporal Anders gestured for Robert to move further in to the dark. An action almost comical if it had not been for the circumstances.