There was more than one support down; I had to double about to find opening; again and again I seemed to be against an unsurpassable barrier; twice I dug through a mass of fallen dirt, once for three solid feet, throwing the loosened earth either side of me, and pushing it back with my feet, thus utterly blocking all chance of retreat.

Scarcely was this accomplished when another fall from above came, half burying head and shoulders, and compelling me to do the work over.

The air grew foul and sluggish, but I was toiling for life, and dug at the _debris_ madly, reckless of what might fall from above.

Better to be crushed, than to die of suffocation, and the very desperation with which I strove proved my salvation.

For what remained of the roof held, and I struggled through into the firmer gallery beyond, faint from exhaustion, yet as quickly reviving in the fresher air.