Miner's Diary

Oh, another grand day below: the fresh vein plunges deep yet hardens with each blow, and the mountain's groans swell daily, as though sounding alarm.

The overseer wants no excuses — the lower shaft must be cleared and ore hauled onto the carts ahead of his rounds, the collector awaiting his tithe.

More timber comes tomorrow to shore the passage. Should it stand, wages are earned; should it fall, the writer hopes the overseer stands beneath it.