aree 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 i