My village is not a small one . '' There was a whistle overhead on the bridge , and the Delhi Mail slid across , all the carriages gleaming with light , and the shadows faithfully following along the river . It clanked away into the dark again ; but the Mugger and the Jackal were so well used to it that they never turned their heads . `` Is that anything less wonderful than a boat thrice the size of Mugger-Ghaut ? '' said the bird , looking up . `` I saw that built , child . Stone by stone I saw the bridge-piers rise , and when the men fell off -LRB- they were wondrous sure-footed for the most part -- but WHEN they fell -RRB- I was ready . After the first pier was made they never thought to look down the stream for the body to burn . There , again , I saved much trouble . There was nothing strange in the building of the bridge , '' said the Mugger . `` But that which goes across , pulling the roofed carts ! That is strange , '' the Adjutant repeated . `` It is , past any doubt , a new breed of bullock . Some day it will not be able to keep its foothold up yonder , and will fall as the men did . The old Mugger will then be ready . '' The Jackal looked at the Adjutant and the Adjutant looked at the Jackal . If there was one thing they were more certain of than another , it was that the engine was everything in the wide world except a bullock . The Jackal had watched it time and again from the aloe hedges by the side of the line , and the Adjutant had seen engines since the first locomotive ran in India . But the Mugger had only looked up at the thing from below , where the brass dome seemed rather like a bullock 's hump . `` M -- yes , a new kind of bullock , '' the Mugger repeated ponderously , to make himself quite sure in his own mind ; and `` Certainly it is a bullock , '' said the Jackal .
`` And again it might be -- '' began the XXXXX pettishly .
Adjutant India Jackal Mugger Mugger-Ghaut bullock burn day first foothold