The Great Bore
A Souvenir Of The Hoosac Tunnel

30 headings, drowned in subterranean floods, crushed under heavy timbers. The shifts to which they be- longed, becoming suddenly superstitious in the presence of death, dropped their shovels and picks and turned their backs forever on the black hole in the Hoosac. New men took their places, the wreck was cleared away or the water pumped out and the work went on. There was not a member of the en- gineering corps but narrowly escaped death more than once. At one time Mr. Wederkinch was de- scending the shaft on the cage and had nearly reached the bottom when a jack-screw at the top gave way, broke into fragments and fell. Nine pieces struck in the cage; one passed entirely through a two-inch plank in its flooring, but as if by a miracle, he was spared. On another occasion a mass of rock smashed a cross-section bar, while on either side of it stood an engineer unharmed. Again, a party of miners were seated one clay at the east encl on a large box used for storing tools. A num- ber of rats ran by. Ready for a little sport, the men gave chase. Scarcely had they left their seat than the box was crushed and buried by a mass of falling rock. The saddest chapter in the history of the tunnel is the terrible central shaft disaster of Saturday, October 19, 1867. At 1 o’clock on the afternoon of