On Saturday, the 27th of February, 1880, while the workmen on the Göschenen side were tearing the vitals out of the peak, they were surprised to find large masses of rock falling about their ears without any effort on their part. They stopped. The situation seemed uncanny. They listened intently, and then heard the familiar sound of a muffled roar, indicating blasting in the heading. The workmen on the Airolo side were upon them. Terrified lest the next concussion might bury them beneath a mass of rock, they hurriedly retreated and waited. Presently one espied the point of a chisel ploughing through the rock towards him. He grasped its extremity, but as quickly dropped it, for it was so hot that it burned his hand. Frantically these men rapped upon the last remaining wall of rock to inform their comrades on the other side that they were through. With lightning-like rapidity the news flashed through the Göschenen workings that the men from the Airolo side might be seen at any minute, and that the task of eight weary years was consummated practically. As quickly the news flashed from Göschenen to the Airolo portal to cease work, since it was decided that the last blast tearing away the final thickness of rock should be the occasion of great jubilation. The whole country was excited. Officials hurried to the scene, and the countryside from far and near flocked to the two mouths of the tunnel. There was no sleep for any one in the constructional camps that Saturday night. The men were in a perfect state of frenzy. In the darkness the preparations for the culminating move were hurried forward. It was arranged that as the men on the Airolo heading had first pierced the last partition of rock, they should have the honour of blowing the gap which would afford access from one side of the mountain chain to the other through its base.