corner of the factory and we climbed down over broken timbers, shattered bricks and a jungle of vines, small shrubs and grass.
“Well this be a right adventure” grumbled Barney as he picked his way through the tangle.
We could hear the sound of splashing water more clearly now. It came from under the pile of bricks and rock that spilled down the slope when the mill collapsed. The pile was a dangerous mixture of jagged timber, mixed with bricks and twisted undergrowth. It looked impenetrable. Dad and Barney inspected the mess. We all stood close by, rain dripping off our sou’westers and puddling around our boots. We sure were glad we had Barney’s gumboots.
Dad gazed at the tortured pile then looked up towards the old factory. “This could be the tunnel” he said, turning back towards us. We all crowded closer in excitement. Dad pointed back towards the ruined mill. “When the Reveenooers blew up the old powder mill, the roof and walls collapsed. Up there above us is what remains of the southwestern corner of the factory. But the western wall has come tumbling down the slope and now all that’s left is this giant pile of rubbish. And the western wall was the start of the tunnel. At least that’s what it shows on Rohan’s map. There must have been a door or an opening in the wall and it was destroyed and covered up in the explosion.”
Dad stopped speaking for a moment and pointed to the mound of bricks and vines. He put one hand to his ear. “We can hear the sound of the water quite clearly, so it’s obviously finding a way though the rubble. It’s going somewhere. We need to do the same – but carefully.” We studied the enormous pile. After two hundred years it was covered in thick grass and a layer of earth. And it was filled with broken brick and pieces of rotted timber. We would need to be careful.
We pulled at the grass and the larger rocks and wriggled and tugged at the pieces of blackened timber that jutted in all directions through the grass and shrubs. Because everything was so tangled and overgrown it took ages to work things free of the earth. The grass seemed to break off in clumps but the roots of the small shrubs and bushes were locked onto the timber and rocks and bound them into the earth. In some places the bricks and timber seemed to be welded together. Though we worked hard for a couple of hours, we were able to pluck only a tiny pile of bricks and wood from the ground.
By midday we were nearly exhausted and had made almost no progress through the wreckage. We had a small heap of rubble behind us, and we could hear the water rushing by beneath us, but we were no closer to it or any tunnel. But at least the rain had stopped. We could see clearly out to the Gannet and the cloud and mist had lifted. Dad finally called a halt when a big clump of rocks and bricks were dislodged and crashed down near Charlie and George.
“That’s it!” he said, standing up and groaning. “This is too dangerous. We’ll have to look for another way in.”
We backed off and looked around. Everywhere was a battleground of fallen masonry and timber, covered with tangled undergrowth. It seemed impossible. We could tell that it didn’t matter where we searched, every spot was as difficult as the next. Then Barney pointed down the hill, towards Long Nose Point. “I think we be goin’ that way” he piped. “That’s where the water be goin’ and we best be followin’ it.”
Dad followed Barney’s pointing finger. “I think Barney’s right. Let’s fan out, about five paces apart, and work our way down the slope. Be careful. And we’re looking for a way into the tunnel. So listen for the sound of the water.”
We spaced out in a long line across the bumpy slope, Dad at one end, Barney at the other. Our clothes and boots made it cumbersome, climbing and sliding down the hill, and we moved slowly. But in spite of the difficult terrain and our clumsy outfits, it took only half an hour for find what we were seeking.
“I can see water!” yelled Max. By this point we were about a two hundred metres from the factory and at least a hundred feet lower down the slope into the valley. As we clustered around the large hole in the side of the hill, half overgrown with thick grass, Dad leaned down, holding his torch, and pushed his arm and shoulder into the hole. Then he wriggled his head through. The sun was breaking through the clouds as we watched Dad wriggle and twist to get a better view. I didn’t expect much. We hadn’t had any luck so far and there was no reason to think it was changing.
Dad pulled himself back out of the hole. “Well done Max. There’s something down there but I can’t see clearly. It appears that it may be a couple of metres down. I can see bricks, so it could be a tunnel. Or part of a tunnel that’s caved in.” We all whooped but Dad waved us quiet. “Don’t get your hopes up. Let me slide down and take a peep.”
Barney unslung his rope and Dad tied one end around his waist. “Doesn’t hurt to be careful” he said, then turned and lowered himself into the hole. He wriggled for a couple of seconds then disappeared beneath the thatch of grass. We could hear his boots scratching and a thud every now and then as he banged his torch against the rocks. There was silence for a while and we all peered into the hole. We could see Dad’s torch flickering just a few feet below us but we couldn’t see anything clearly. Then Dad’s voice echoed up out of the hole.
We couldn’t understand a word Dad was saying. His voice was muffled under the grass and earth but he sounded excited. Then suddenly his head popped up out of the hole, grass and mud sticking to his hair. “The tunnel” he whooped. “It’s the tunnel alright. It’s caved in back towards the factory but it’s clear on the downhill side. I can see steps leading off into the dark. There’s a lot of water through but it seems to be easing. Everything’s covered in slime so it’ll be slippery. It seems ok, but we’ll have to watch our step.”
We danced around slapping shoulders and yelling. Even Barney was laughing. Dad and Barney pulled away some large clumps of grass and below us we could see exposed the caved-in sides of the tunnel. Over the centuries some of the rocks and earth had leached away, creating a sinkhole, which eventually collapsed and exposed the tunnel. Max had stumbled across the sinkhole, which led us straight to the tunnel.
We couldn’t see much, but from what I could see it looked as if the tunnel had been carved through the rock of Long Nose Point. I could see the marks of picks on the walls, even through the slime and moss. In some places the roof of the tunnel appeared to be supported by brick walls. In others it was solid rock. The floor of the tunnel was also partly paved with bricks. There were steps at intervals in the floor, some of brick, others carved from the rock. Dad and Barney climbed down to the tunnel one after the other and easily moved some of the fallen bricks, pulling them out one by one and passing them up and placing them carefully on the ground behind us. Then they both climbed back up out of the hole.
“We’re in” said Dad settling back onto the grass. “I reckon we’ve found the Run, the secret tunnel that the smugglers used to haul the gunpowder. If the map’s right, it will lead us to the Princess Cave.”
And just as he said it the sun came out in full, beaming down on the hole in the ground and sparkling off the water against the sides of the tunnel. We all stared at each other. We were in! But in what? And now that we’d found it, did we really want to go inside? I remember that we all stared at Dad as he wiped the mud off his hands. He grinned at us.
“Let’s rock & roll” he said. “Who’s first?”
Three hundred Steps
But of course it wasn’t that simple. Dad made us have lunch before we went into the tunnel. Barney produced sandwiches magically from his pack – ham and pickles never tasted better. We washed it down with some water then packed up. We were ready to go. Dad and Barney led us over to the entry to the Run.
Barney had his small pick in one hand and his torch in the other. He climbed through the hole and peered about, shining the torch up and down the tunnel and over the walls. “I think we need be right careful” he said, gazing back up through the hole. “The tunnel be clear but slippery, and the rock and the bricks maybe a little rotten. It’ll hold us but we best be goin’ slow. And I be puttin’ some rope up te help us.”
r /> Barney took a piton from his belt and positioned it between two bricks high on the wall. With a smart crack of the pick head on the top of the piton he drove it deep into the old mortar. All that jutted out was the top with the circular hole in it. Barney gave the piton jiggle but it held firm. Then he quickly unlooped his rope and threaded it through the hole, tying a seaman’s knot to secure it.
“Now” he said. “I be goin’ first and be checkin’ the tunnel. It’s near five hunnert feet o’ rope I’m carryin’. I be goin’ as far as I kin, and checkin’ the tunnel. I be givin’ two sharp tugs on the rope every now and then, all bein’ fine.” We watched as Barney disappeared into the tunnel. We could hear him moving across the slippery steps but he was soon out of earshot. Dad stood with the rope looped over his forearm. Every now and the rope jerked twice.
We stood there waiting. It seemed like ages, but it was only ten minutes later that we heard Barney’s slithery footsteps on the slimy steps below. Then his head reappeared below us. “Well blimey” he said. “The tunnel be in right fine condition. I be mighty surprised, that’s fer sure. I walked down mebbe two hunnert metres. I’m thinkin’ the water runs off down te