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
stoneboats 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 Quetta was sunk. I like
sus-suspen-sheen bridges that fly from bank to bank, with one big
step, like a gang-plank.
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