Not far off a high, wooden trestle carried the rails across a ravine.

The bridge would presently be rebuilt with steel, but in the meantime the frame was open and the gaps between the ties were wide.
It was getting dark and noisy blast-lamps threw up pillars of white fire.

The line had sunk in the afternoon and it was necessary to lift the rails and fill up the subsidence before the next gravel train arrived.

Lister was angry and puzzled, for he had pushed the road-bed across to near the other side, but the rails had not sunk in the new belt but in ground over which the trains had run.
By and by a man joined him and remarked: "The boys have got the ties up, but I reckon they won't fix the track for three or four hours.

Looks as if the blamed muskeg was going to beat us." "She can't beat us," Lister rejoined impatiently.