The Days Work - Part I | Page 6

had whipped the cargo out of a coaster.
From his trolley he could hear the whistle of the serang's silver pipe
and the creek and clatter of the pulleys. Peroo was standing on the
top-most coping of the tower, clad in the blue dungaree of his
abandoned service, and as Findlayson motioned to him to be careful,
for his was no life to throw away, he gripped the last pole, and, shading
his eyes ship-fashion, answered with the long-drawn wail of the fo'c'sle
lookout: "Ham dekhta hai" ("I am looking out"). Findlayson laughed
and then sighed. It was years since he had seen a steamer, and he was
sick for home. As his trolley passed under the tower, Peroo descended
by a rope, ape-fashion, and cried: "It looks well now, Sahib. Our bridge
is all but done. What think you Mother Gunga will say when the rail
runs over?"
"She has said little so far. It was never Mother Gunga that delayed us."
"There is always time for her; and none the less there has been delay.
Has the Sahib forgotten last autumn's flood, when the stone-boats were
sunk without warning - or only a half-day's warning?"
"Yes, but nothing save a big flood could hurt us now. The spurs are
holding well on the West Bank."
"Mother Gunga eats great allowances. There is always room for more
stone on the revetments. I tell this to the Chota Sahib "- he meant
Hitchcock - "and he laughs."
"No matter, Peroo. Another year thou wilt be able to build a bridge in
thine own fashion."
The Lascar grinned. "Then it will not be in this way - with stonework
sunk under water, as the Qyetta was sunk. I like sus-sus-pen-sheen
bridges that fly from bank to bank. with one big step, like a gang-plank.
Then no water can hurt. When does the Lord Sahib come to open the
bridge?"

"In three months, when the weather is cooler."
"Ho! ho! He is like the Burra Malum. He sleeps below while the work
is being done. Then he comes upon the quarter-deck and touches with
his finger, and says: 'This is not clean! Dam jibboonwallah!'"
"But the Lord Sahib does not call me a dam jibboonwallah, Peroo."
"No, Sahib; but he does not come on deck till the work is all finished.
Even the Burra Malum of the Nerbudda said once at Tuticorin -"
"Bah! Go! I am busy."
"I, also!" said Peroo, with an unshaken countenance. "May I take the
light dinghy now and row along the spurs?"
"To hold them with thy hands? They are, I think, sufficiently heavy."
"Nay, Sahib. It is thus. At sea, on the Black Water, we have room to be
blown up and down without care. Here we have no room at all. Look
you, we have put the river into a dock, and run her between stone sills."
Findlayson smiled at the "we."
"We have bitted and bridled her. She is not like the sea, that can beat
against a soft beach. She is Mother Gunga - in irons." His voice fell a
little.
"Peroo, thou hast been up and down the world more even than I. Speak
true talk, now. How much dost thou in thy heart believe of Mother
Gunga?"
"All that our priest says. London is London, Sahib. Sydney is Sydney,
and Port Darwin is Port Darwin. Also Mother Gunga is Mother Gunga,
and when I come back to her banks I know this and worship. In London
I did poojah to the big temple by the river for the sake of the God
within. . . . Yes, I will not take the cushions in the dinghy."
Findlayson mounted his horse and trotted to the shed of a bungalow

that he shared with his assistant. The place had become home to him in
the last three years. He had grilled in the heat, sweated in the rains, and
shivered with fever under the rude thatch roof; the lime-wash beside the
door was covered with rough drawings and formulae, and the
sentry-path trodden in the matting of the verandah showed where he
had walked alone. There is no eight-hour limit to an engineer's work,
and the evening meal with Hitchcock was eaten booted and spurred:
over their cigars they listened to the hum of the village as the gangs
came up from the river-bed and the lights began to twinkle.
"Peroo has gone up the spurs in your dinghy. He's taken a couple of
nephews with him, and he's lolling in the stern like a commodore," said
Hitchcock.
"That's all right. He's got something on his mind. You'd think that ten
years in the British India boats would have knocked most of his
religion out of him."
"So it has," said Hitchcock, chuckling. "I