Miner Tells Of Miraculous Escape From Death.
As Instrument of Preserving Man From Dreadful End, Animal Was Honored by Community.
    This true story of the almost miraculous rescue of a man imprisoned in the shaft of a lead mine was told to the writer, Cora Cole McCullough, by a member of her family. We quote it from Our Dumb Animals [Boston], says the Literary Digest.
    Many years ago I was living in Montana. A smelter had been built and it created a demand for silver rock. I owned an interest in a lead mine that had been sunk over thirty feet. Thinking the time had come to make it available, I decided to go there and get some ore and have it tested. I did so, and reached the place just in time to take shelter in the mine from a terrible hail storm. I lighted my candle, went to the bottom, and went to work. I had not been there more than five minutes when I heard a noise that sounded like a cannon. The rock over my head shook, and in a moment the shaft caved in. You can imagine my feelings better than I can describe them, when I found myself buried alive.
    I tremble even at this distant day, when I think of that moment. The roof of the shaft was made of rocks, and when they came down they did not pack so tightly, but that the air came through. There was nothing I could do to release myself. I knew that if relief did not come from the outside I must perish. No one knew that I had gone there. A road ran past the mouth of the shaft, but it was not traveled much, and I was not likely to attract attention by calling. Nevertheless, I shouted at intervals all day.
    The following morning I commenced calling again, and all day, whenever I thought I heard a sound, I shouted. When night came again, all hopes of being released were abandoned. I will not dwell on the agonies I endured. The morning of the fourth day of my imprisonment I heard something crawl into my grave.
    I lighted my candle and saw a rabbit. There was only one aperture large enough to admit him; I closed it to prevent his escape. I saw in him food to appease my hunger, and my hand was raised to kill him, when a thought occurred to me that prevented the blow from descending.
    I had two fishing lines. Their united length would reach the road. I took off my shirt, tore it into strips, tied them together, and then to the fish line. I then tied the end made out of my shirt around the rabbit’s neck and let him out. He soon reached the end of the line, and I knew by the way he was pulling that he was making a desperate effort to escape. Soon the tugging ceased, and as I knew that gnawing was one of a rabbit’s accomplishments, I thought he had gnawed himself loose. About three hours afterward I felt the line pull, and someone called. I tried to answer, but the feeble noise I made died away in the cavern. I then pulled the line a little to show that I was still alive. All grew still again, and I knew the person had gone for assistance. Then came the sound of voices. I pulled in the line and it brought me food. It took all the men who worked in the shaft nine hours to reach me.
    A very large pine tree that stood near had been the cause of my misfortune. It had been dead a number of years, and the storm had blown it over. The terrible blow it struck the ground had caused the caving in of the shaft. The rabbit had wound the line around a bush and tied himself so short that he was imprisoned outside as securely as I had been inside. He was taken to town, put in a large cage, and supplied with all rabbit delicacies the market afforded. He, however, did not thrive, and the boys, believing he “pinned in thought,” voted to set him free. He was taken back to his old neighborhood, and liberated. He not only saved my life, but became the benefactor of all the rabbits near, the miners refraining from shooting any, for fear it might be my rabbit.
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