India 2001 books

We found our truck and climbed in. There were certainly beds enough, for
there were thirty light iron folding bedsteads piled up at one end. We
chose two, and, not satisfied with the stacking of the others, Jan
repiled them, with an eye on what our friend had said about Serbian
shunting. Even then Jo was not happy about them.
We sat on our beds, reading or staring out of our open door at the
twinkle of the station lights, the moving flares of the engines, and the
fountains of sparks which rushed from their chimneys; listening to the
chains of bumps which denoted a shunting train. We heard another chain
of bumps, which rattled rapidly towards us and suddenly--a most awful
CRASH. The candle went out, and we were flung from bed on to the floor.
Our truck hurtled down the line at about thirty miles an hour, and
suddenly struck some solid object. Another wild crash, and the whole
twenty-eight beds flung themselves upon the place where we had been, and
smashed our couches to the ground.


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