The priest of the Lascara had nothing to do with their caste,
or indeed with anything at all. He ate the offerings of his church,
and slept and smoked, and slept again "for," said Peroo, who had
haled him a thousand miles inland, "he is a very holy man. He never
cares what you eat so long as you do not eat beef, and that is
good, because on land we worship Shiva, we Kharvas; but at sea on
the Kumpani's boats we attend strictly to the orders of the Burra
Malum [the first mate], and on this bridge we observe what Finlinson
Sahib says."
Finlinson Sahib had that day given orders to clear the scaffolding
from the guard-tower on the right bank, and Peroo with his mates was
casting loose and lowering down the bamboo poles and planks as
swiftly as ever they had whipped the cargo out of a coaster.
>From his trolley he could hear the whistle of the serang's silver
pipe and the creak and clatter of the pulleys. Peroo was standing
on the topmost 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").
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