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Updated: May 16, 2025
"It seemed that the island was full of beasts and men talking, but I do not remember. A boat could live in this water now, I think." "Oho! Then it is true. 'When Brahm ceases to dream, the Gods die. Now I know, indeed, what he meant. Once, too, the guru said as much to me; but then I did not understand. Now I am wise." "What?" said Findlayson, over his shoulder.
There was a black Buck at the Bull's heels-such a Buck as Findlayson in his far-away life upon earth might have seen in dreams a Buck with a royal head, ebon back, silver belly, and gleaming straight horns. Beside him, her head bowed to the ground, the green eyes burning under the heavy brows, with restless tail switching the dead grass, paced a Tigress, full-bellied and deep-jowled.
I have seen Sydney, I have seen London, and twenty great ports, but " Peroo looked at the damp, discoloured shrine under the peepul " never man has seen that we saw here." What?" "Has the Sahib forgotten; or do we black men only see the Gods?" "There was a fever upon me." Findlayson was still looking uneasily across the water.
"Ah, true! The Gods surely the Gods." Findlayson smiled as his head fell forward on his chest. Peroo was eminently right. After the Flood, who should be alive in the land except the Gods that made it the Gods to whom his village prayed nightly the Gods who were in all men's mouths and about all men's ways.
His body he was really sorry for its gross helplessness lay in the stern, the water rushing about its knees. "How very ridiculous!" he said to himself, from his eyrie "that is Findlayson chief of the Kashi Bridge. The poor beast is going to be drowned, too. Drowned when it's close to shore. I'm I'm onshore already. Why doesn't it come along."
The Rao Sahib, in tweed shooting-suit and a seven-hued turban, waved his royal hand, and Hitchcock shouted. But he need have asked no questions, for Findlayson's first demand was for his bridge. "All serene! Gad, I never expected to see you again, Findlayson. You're seven koss down-stream. Yes; there's not a stone shifted anywhere; but how are you?
"Big flood," said Peroo, and Findlayson nodded. It was as big a flood as he had any wish to watch. His bridge would stand what was upon her now, but not very much more, and if by any of a thousand chances there happened to be a weakness in the embankments, Mother Gunga would carry his honour to the sea with the other raffle.
For hours the naked men worked, screaming and shouting under the lights. It was a hot, moonless night; the end of it was darkened by clouds and a sudden squall that made Findlayson very grave. "She moves!" said Peroo, just before the dawn. "Mother Gunga is awake! Hear!" He dipped his hand over the side of a boat and the current mumbled on it. A little wave hit the side of a pier with a crisp slap.
He would interrupt the field-councils of Findlayson and Hitchcock without fear, till his wonderful English, or his still more wonderful lingua franca, half Portuguese and half Malay, ran out and he was forced to take string and show the knots that he would recommend. He controlled his own gang of tacklemen mysterious relatives from Kutch Mandvi gathered month by month and tried to the uttermost.
"Six hours before her time," said Findlayson, mopping his forehead savagely. "Now we can't depend on anything. We'd better clear all hands out of the riverbed." Again the big gong beat, and a second time there was the rushing of naked feet on earth and ringing iron; the clatter of tools ceased. In the silence, men heard the dry yawn of water crawling over thirsty sand.
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