"It's faur too big. Take an ax an'
hack the leg off. I doot it'll be wasted anyway. Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"
And unable longer to endure the pain, he roared aloud in agony, and tore
at the stone himself with his fingers, like an imprisoned beast in a
trap.
"Here, boys, quick!" cried Andrew, getting his long pinch in below the
stone, upon a fine leverage. "Put yir weight on this, Tam, an' Jock an'
Sanny'll try an' pull Jamie out. Hurry up, for she's working for anither
collapse. A'thegither!" and so they tugged and tore, and strained and
pulled, while the roars of the imprisoned man were deafening.
"A'thegither again, laddies!" encouraged Andrew. "This time!" and with a
tremendous effort the stone gave way, and Jamie was pulled clear, his
leg a crushed mass of pulpy blood and shattered bones. They dragged him
back clear of any further falls, and improvised a stretcher on which to
carry home his now unconscious body.
"That was a hell o' a narrow shave," quietly observed Tam Donaldson, as
they panted together, and tried to collect themselves. "His leg's
wasted, I doot, an' will need to come off." When they had their
stretcher ready, the wounded man was tenderly placed upon it, carefully
covered up with the jackets of the others; whilst half-a-dozen of them
carried him to the pit bottom, and finally bore him home, where the
doctor was ready waiting to attend to him.
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