HUMBLE HEROES.

Evening Star, Issue 3454, 18 March 1874, Page 3

HUMBLE HEROES.

It has frequently been our pleasing but melancholy task to bring under the notice of the public some of the deeds of heroism which adorn “the short and simple annals of the poor ” —deeds which, if performed on a larger .stage and before a more numerous audience, would ensure for their authors an immortality of fame. We regret to say that we have to add another to the list. And yet “ regret” is scarcely the proper word to use in connection with the event w? are about to describe, because, while we cannot help mourning the Ipsa the community has sustained by the death of one brave man in the execution of his duty as the breadwinner for wife and little ones, we cannot help feeling proud cl the courage, and self denial displayed by his mate, who we are afraid is likely to follow him into the land of shadows. No. 3, Oram’s Reef, Caledonia diggings, was recently the scene of an accident similar to those with which the mining districts are unhappily too familiar, but it had about it certain pscu, Rarities which rivetted o\jr attention, and

left it out of the ordinary category of such catastrophes,. Henry Moore Howard and James Nicholson were pursuing their ordinary avocation in the mine when a mass of rock fell upon them, crushing both beneath its weight. At the usual time Mrs Howard went to summon them home, but found that her repeated calls met with no response. A man named John Brohan then proceeded down the shaft, and the sound of a voice palling. L pon reaching the bottpm’ lie found Nicholson lying on his face ip a drive close by. He was quite sensible, although he had been lyin<* there, doubtless, in almost intolerable anguish for some 'six hours. With a coolness audetoicism which the hardest amongst

us may well envy, he quietly said that “he was hurt;” that he imagined his back was broken.” But even though in extremis , his thoughts were not wholly for ‘himself. He bade the deliverer, without waiting to succour him, go further into the drive° and look for his mate, who, he thought, was bleeding to de.it. A brief exploration only proved how correct his anticipations were. According to the evidence given at the in-

quest, Howard was found in a sitting posture, with his back against the wall, propped up by some stones and debris which had fallen dead. His right leg had been literally smashed, and the points of broken bone had divided large blood vessels, and so ma life ebbed away before help could reach him. Judging by the splinters of bark and other things lying about, he had endeavored to staunch hia wounds, but his efforts had been all unavailing. Wo may conclude that 113 his death becomingly, for his poor mutilated .clow-sufferer would not have displayed such solicitude for a poltroon. We hear perpetually that our race is effete and worn out. Worn out it will never bo while the equals of men such as James Nicholson and Henry Moore Howard live to sustain and perpetuate its ancient fame.-—‘ Argus ’