Once, Chandra nudged him and whispered, "Watch your turban! Keep it on straight!" and Biff woke sufficiently to realize that he had one ear out of the cumbersome headgear. He worked it into place, saw Chandra nod approval, and then went back to sleep.
Again, Chandra woke both Biff and Kamuka, who was sleeping, too, telling them, "Watch out, now! New passengers coming on board. Don't let them look at you too close."
So Biff and Kamuka kept their heads together and engaged in low conversation until the new passengers gave up looking at them and fell asleep themselves. That gave Biff and Kamuka the right to do the same. This time, Biff's sleep was sound, undisturbed by the joltings of the train or the blare of the locomotive whistle as it rushed on through the thick night.
It was a dream that wakened Biff. He imagined that he was clutching the big ruby, while hands were trying to snatch it from him. He was confronted by bearded Sikhs and as he clawed wildly at their faces, their beards came away, until he saw only one smooth face and opened his eyes to find that the dream, in a sense, was real.
Biff was clutching the bag that contained the ruby, but his hand was
deep in his jacket pocket. The hands that were clutching him were
Chandra's, shaking him awake; and the smooth face, too, was Chandra's.
Quickly, the Indian boy put his finger to his lips for silence.
The train was standing still. All was silent in the compartment except for the snores of other passengers. The lights looked dimmer than before, because it was no longer pitch dark outside. Faint streaks of dawn were reddening the sky beyond low-lying hills. The compartment at last seemed slightly cool.
Biff risked a whisper. "Where are we?"
"At an engine-changing station," Chandra whispered back. "Our own is farther on, but we cannot wait until then."
He gestured toward Kamuka, who was still asleep. Between them, Biff and Chandra shook Kamuka and roused him instantly. Like a team, the three boys gathered their packs and stepped carefully past the knees and over the legs of sleeping passengers. Moments later, they were on a weather-beaten platform alongside the long, silent train. A few dozen human figures were stretched on the station platform, with white sheets of cloth drawn completely over their motionless forms, like shrouds.
"Railroad workers, mostly," whispered Chandra, "waiting for the next shift. No one else gets on or off here, at least, not often."