Unicorn Rampant by Nigel Tranter Page A

braes. Unfortunately His Majesty could scarcely proceed down there since they would have to go on hands and knees. But further along this main gallery there was a new and shallow working where they could observe coal being won . . .
    Whilst this was being announced, Sir George's voice began to be overborne by the rumbling and creaking as one of the large trolleys emerged from the main tunnel, pushed from behind. When this halted, the pushers appeared round the sides and proved to be two women, both naked from the waist up, ragged skirts kilted high and tucked into rope belts, thighs bare also. Covered with coal-dust and sweat they made no lovely sight.
    "Guidsakes—those are women!" James gasped, peering in the dim light. "See their paps! Shameless hussies and maist undecorous!"
    "It gets very hot down here, Sire—as you may feel. And they have a long way to push these carts before ..."
    Bruce was interrupted. "Mercy on us—look at that!" The King was pointing to another of the low-browed apertures, where a child and his basket had appeared, a boy this, all grinning white teeth in a black face, wholly unclothed and looking no more than perhaps eight years. "An imp of Satanicus himsel'!"
    The boy, rising from his knobbly knees, had difficulty in hoisting up his heavy-laden basket to empty into one of the trolleys and John went to aid him, blackening his hands in the process. The lad, staring open-mouthed at the gentlemen, looked shocked and guilty at this unsuitable assistance, and bolted for his hole, still more like a rabbit.
    "Save us—what's he at?" James demanded. "Did you see that, Vicky? Did you ever ken the like?"
    Whilst Bruce was explaining the children's part in the mining process, the women set off with a loaded trolley, the one in front putting on a sort of harness consisting of a double chain attached to a broad leather band which she placed round her forehead and so bent to the task, whilst her companion pushed from the rear. They had to strain hard to get the laden cart moving and once again John went to help overcome the initial inertia—to the rear woman's skirl and Sir George's chuckle that he would employ this young man any day. Embarrassed by this reaction, John left off pushing—but remained embarrassed as the elegant party strolled on along the main gallery behind the straining women.
    It seemed that they had quite a long way to go, along this jet-black corridor lit by only occasional lamps—although Bruce now carried a lamp himself to ensure if possible that the distinctly shambling royal feet did not trip on the uneven floor.
    There was a hold-up presently when a second pair of women, one quite elderly by her figure, returning with another truck, had to pass the first in a space just wide enough and no more. Bruce tut-tutting, declared that they had better get past or they would be all day reaching their destination. So they squeezed by, the King taking the opportunity to pinch one of the female behinds in passing by way of acknowledgement.
    They passed many low-set side-alleys, some seeming to keep the same level, others sloping steeply downwards. One or two disgorged children. In time they came to a higher entry, almost man-height and Bruce led the way in, stooping. James promptly knocked his high hat off, muttering indignantly—and John had his first glimpse of his prince hatless. He was alleged to wear headgear even in his bed.
    They slanted down this narrow passage in single file, it getting steeper and hotter. At one stage they paused, having to press against the black wall to allow a convoy of a woman and three children, all on hands and knees hauling filled baskets, to get past. James, gasping a little for breath now in the heat, observed that the place was fair crawling with the creatures, like an ant-hill, whereat Sir George informed that he employed nearly three hundred in this pit alone, men, women and bairns. It was what he called a family pit, where an entire family could work