The Underground City

by Jules Verne
OR

The Black Indies
(Sometimes Called The Child of the Cavern)

CHAPTER I
CONTRADICTORY LETTERS

To Mr. F. R. Starr, Engineer, 30 Canongate, Edinburgh.
IF Mr. James Starr will come to-morrow to the Aberfoyle coal-mines,

Dochart pit, Yarrow shaft, a communication of an interesting nature
will be made to him.

"Mr. James Starr will be awaited for, the whole day,
at the Callander station, by Harry Ford, son of the old

overman Simon Ford."
"He is requested to keep this invitation secret."

Such was the letter which James Starr received by the first post,
on the 3rd December, 18--, the letter bearing the Aberfoyle postmark,

county of Stirling, Scotland.
The engineer's curiosity was excited to the highest pitch.

It never occurred to him to doubt whether this letter might
not be a hoax. For many years he had known Simon Ford,

one of the former foremen of the Aberfoyle mines, of which he,
James Starr, had for twenty years, been the manager, or,

as he would be termed in English coal-mines, the viewer.
James Starr was a strongly-constituted man, on whom his fifty-five

years weighed no more heavily than if they had been forty.
He belonged to an old Edinburgh family, and was one of its

most distinguished members. His labors did credit to the body
of engineers who are gradually devouring the carboniferous

subsoil of the United Kingdom, as much at Cardiff and Newcastle,
as in the southern counties of Scotland. However, it was more

particularly in the depths of the mysterious mines of Aberfoyle,
which border on the Alloa mines and occupy part of the county

of Stirling, that the name of Starr had acquired the greatest renown.
There, the greater part of his existence had been passed.

Besides this, James Starr belonged to the Scottish Antiquarian Society,
of which he had been made president. He was also included

amongst the most active members of the Royal Institution; and the
Edinburgh Review frequently published clever articles signed by him.

He was in fact one of those practical men to whom is due the prosperity
of England. He held a high rank in the old capital of Scotland,

which not only from a physical but also from a moral point of view,
well deserves the name of the Northern Athens.

We know that the English have given to their vast extent of
coal-mines a very significant name. They very justly call them

the "Black Indies," and these Indies have contributed perhaps
even more than the Eastern Indies to swell the surprising wealth

of the United Kingdom.
At this period, the limit of time assigned by professional men

for the exhaustion of coal-mines was far distant and there was
no dread of scarcity. There were still extensive mines to be

worked in the two Americas. The manu-factories, appropriated
to so many different uses, locomotives, steamers, gas works,

&c., were not likely to fail for want of the mineral fuel;
but the consumption had so increased during the last few years,

that certain beds had been exhausted even to their smallest veins.
Now deserted, these mines perforated the ground with their

useless shafts and forsaken galleries. This was exactly the case
with the pits of Aberfoyle.

Ten years before, the last butty had raised the last ton of coal
from this colliery. The undergroundworking stock, traction engines,

trucks which run on rails along the galleries, subterranean tramways,
frames to support the shaft, pipes--in short, all that constituted

the machinery of a mine had been brought up from its depths.
The exhausted mine was like the body of a huge fantastically-shaped

mastodon, from which all the organs of life have been taken,
and only the skeleton remains.

Nothing was left but long wooden ladders, down the Yarrow shaft--the only
one which now gave access to the lower galleries of the Dochart pit.

Above ground, the sheds, formerly sheltering the outside works,
still marked the spot where the shaft of that pit had been sunk,

it being now abandoned, as were the other pits, of which the whole
constituted the mines of Aberfoyle.

It was a sad day, when for the last time the workmen quitted the mine,
in which they had lived for so many years. The engineer, James Starr,

had collected the hundreds of
workmen which composed the active and courageous population of the mine.

Overmen, brakemen, putters, wastemen, barrowmen, masons, smiths,
carpenters, outside and inside laborers, women, children, and old men,

all were collected in the great yard of the Dochart pit, formerly heaped
with coal from the mine.

Many of these families had existed for generations in the mine
of old Aberfoyle; they were now driven to seek the means

of subsistenceelsewhere, and they waited sadly to bid farewell
to the engineer.

James Starr stood upright, at the door of the vast shed in which he had
for so many years superintended the powerful machines of the shaft.

Simon Ford, the foreman of the Dochart pit, then fifty-five years of age,
and other managers and overseers, surrounded him. James Starr took

off his hat. The miners, cap in hand, kept a profound silence.
This farewell scene was of a touchingcharacter, not wanting in grandeur.

"My friends," said the engineer, "the time has come for us to separate.
The Aberfoyle mines, which for so many years have united us

in a common work, are now exhausted. All our researches
have not led to the discovery of a new vein, and the last

block of coal has just been extracted from the Dochart pit."
And in confirmation of his words, James Starr pointed to a lump

of coal which had been kept at the bottom of a basket.
"This piece of coal, my friends," resumed James Starr, "is like the

last drop of blood which has flowed through the veins of the mine!
We shall keep it, as the first fragment of coal is kept,

which was extracted a hundred and fifty years ago from the bearings
of Aberfoyle. Between these two pieces, how many generations

of workmen have succeeded each other in our pits! Now, it is over!
The last words which your engineer will address to you are a farewell.

You have lived in this mine, which your hands have emptied.
The work has been hard, but not without profit for you.

Our great family must disperse, and it is not probable
that the future will ever again unite the scattered members.

But do not forget that we have lived together for a long time,
and that it will be the duty of the miners of Aberfoyle to help

each other. Your old masters will not forget you either.
When men have worked together, they must never be stranger

to each other again.
We shall keep our eye on you, and wherever you go,

our recommendations shall follow you. Farewell then, my friends,
and may Heaven be with you!"

So saying, James Starr wrung the horny hand of the oldest miner,
whose eyes were dim with tears. Then the overmen of the different

pits came forward to shake hands with him, whilst the miners
waved their caps, shouting, "Farewell, James Starr, our master

and our friend!"
This farewell would leave a lastingremembrance in all these

honest hearts. Slowly and sadly the population quitted the yard.
The black soil of the roads leading to the Dochart pit resounded

for the last time to the tread of miners' feet, and silence
succeeded to the bustling life which had till then filled