tural as he had been born there. He
would have found it strange if his sad existence had ended on the
surface of the ground; on the other hand a death down here seemed quite
simple and natural. Here he felt at home. He remembered how when seized
with illness on one occasion, before he had become old, he had not even
ascended to the surface, but remained in the gallery where he worked all
the time, his comrades bringing him food. He had often passed the night
in his gallery stretched on comparatively soft ground. In old times he
had been often seized with a desire to ascend, to see again the sun and
the starry nights, but all that was now far away. Now he felt at home
here in this darkness where it was so warm and so comfortable, that,
but for the dampness, one would like to remain there always!

The water kept on coming down in resonant cascades. But in spite of
this, the old man distinctly heard not far off the blows of the miners'
innumerable pickaxes, the dull echoes of explosions in distant
galleries, and vague human noises. Here and there in the walls of the
shaft one saw black holes, once the entrances to ancient galleries which
had long ago been exhausted of their ore and abandoned.

The miners were now working in another stratum. But the old Ivan had not
forgotten these ancient galleries, for he had left in each of them a
little of his strength, and each of them had been moistened by his
perspiration. He rose and looked downwards; the flickerings of little
lamps like his own were visible, and vague sounds came up to him. The
gleam of water was also to be seen, for the bottom of the shaft was
entirely flooded. Pumps were no longer of any use to expel the water,
for pump as one might, the water kept pouring in. However, they had to
keep on pumping, for if they stopped, even for an hour, the whole mine
would have been flooded and the water would have rapidly penetrated all
the galleries, drowning the miners who were working in them.

"Earth and water--both are in the hands of God," said the miner to
himself.

The rusty chain ceased to unwind and the bucket stopped its descent
half-submerged in the water which covered the bottom of the shaft. The
miners ran up from all sides, holding their little lamps. "See who
comes!" they said with a laugh. "Good day, father!" They laid a plank
for him and helped him to get out. Then, as he always did, he removed
his cap and made a low bow to the miners, showing his bald head.