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Updated: May 16, 2025
Findlayson gripped the gunnel to anchor himself, for it seemed that he was on the edge of taking the flight before he had settled all his plans. Opium has more effect on the white man than the black. Peroo was only comfortably indifferent to accidents. "She cannot live," he grunted. "Her seams open already.
Get thee to thy huts again, beloved, and make sport for the young things, for still Brahm dreams. Go, my children! Brahm dreams and till he wakes the Gods die not." "Whither went they?" said the Lascar, awe-struck, shivering a little with the cold. "God knows!" said Findlayson.
The whisper rang in the box of lattice work. "Yes, and the east channel's filling now. We're utterly out of our reckoning. When is this thing down on us?" "There's no saying. She's filling as fast as she can. Look!" Findlayson pointed to the planks below his feet, where the sand, burned and defiled by months of work, was beginning to whisper and fizz. "What orders?" said Hitchcock.
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 on shore already. Why doesn't it come along?"
Findlayson gripped the gunnel to anchor himself, for it seemed that he was on the edge of taking the flight before he had settled all his plans. Opium has more effect on the white man than the black. Peroo was only comfortably indifferent to accidents. "She cannot live," he grunted. "Her seams open already.
They had been tried many times in sudden crises by slipping of booms, by breaking of tackle, failure of cranes, and the wrath of the river but no stress had brought to light any man among men whom Findlayson and Hitchcock would have honoured by working as remorselessly as they worked themselves.
Indeed; the burden of the work had fallen altogether on Findlayson and his assistant, the young man whom he had chosen because of his rawness to break to his own needs.
"I think we'll go up the service together," Findlayson said to himself. "You're too good a youngster to waste on another man. Cub thou wart; assistant thou art. Personal assistant, and at Simla, thou shalt be, if any credit comes to me out of the business!"
"Call the roll count stores sit on your hunkers and pray for the bridge. That's all I can think of Good night. Don't risk your life trying to fish out anything that may go downstream." "Oh, I'll be as prudent as you are! 'Night. Heavens, how she's filling! Here's the rain in earnest." Findlayson picked his way back to his bank, sweeping the last of McCartney's riveters before him.
There stood his bridge before him in the sunlight, lacking only a few weeks' work on the girders of the three middle piers his bridge, raw and ugly as original sin, but pukka permanent to endure when all memory of the builder, yea, even of the splendid Findlayson truss, has perished. Practically, the thing was done.
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