Far away down the gallery a small pumping-engine, used for keeping dry a deep working and fed with steam from above, was throbbing faithfully. They heard it cease.
"They have cut off the steam," said Kundoo, hopefully. "They have given the order to use all the steam for the pit-bank pumps. They will clear out the water."
"If the water has reached the smoking-gallery," said Janki, "all the Company's pumps can do nothing for three days."
"It is very hot," moaned Jasoda, the Meah basket-woman. "There is a very bad air here because of the lamps."
"Put them out," said Janki; "why do you want lamps?" The lamps were put out and the company sat still in the utter dark. Somebody rose quietly and began walking over the coals. It was Janki, who was touching the walls with his hands. "Where is the ledge?" he murmured to himself.
"Sit, sit!" said Kundoo. "If we die, we die. The air is very bad."
But Janki still stumbled and crept and tapped with his pick upon the walls. The women rose to their feet.
"Stay all where you are. Without the lamps you cannot see, and I—I am always seeing," said Janki. Then he paused, and called out: "Oh, you who have been in the cutting more than ten years, what is the name of this open place? I am an old man and I have forgotten."
"Bullia's Room," answered the Sonthal, who had complained of the vileness of the air.
"Again," said Janki.
"Bullia's Room."
"Then I have found it," said Janki. "The name only had slipped my memory. Tibu's gang's gallery is here."
"A lie," said Kundoo. "There have been no galleries in this place since my day."
"Three paces was the depth of the ledge," muttered Janki, without heeding—"and—oh, my poor bones!—I have found it! It is here, up this ledge. Come all you, one by one, to the place of my voice, and I will count you."
