The student stood motionless with his hands thrust in his pockets,
and did not take his eyes off the lights. He was not listening to
the engineer, but was thinking, and was apparently in the mood in
which one does not want to speak or to listen. After a prolonged
silence he turned to me and said quietly:

"Do you know what those endless lights are like? They make me think
of something long dead, that lived thousands of years ago, something
like the camps of the Amalekites or the Philistines. It is as though
some people of the Old Testament had pitched their camp and were
waiting for morning to fight with Saul or David. All that is wanting
to complete the illusion is the blare of trumpets and sentries
calling to one another in some Ethiopian language."

And, as though of design, the wind fluttered over the line and
brought a sound like the clank of weapons. A silence followed. I
don't know what the engineer and the student were thinking of, but
it seemed to me already that I actually saw before me something
long dead and even heard the sentry talking in an unknown tongue.
My imagination hastened to picture the tents, the strange people,
their clothes, their armour.

"Yes," muttered the student pensively, "once Philistines and
Amalekites were living in this world, making wars, playing their
part, and now no trace of them remains. So it will be with us. Now
we are making a railway, are standing here philosophising, but two
thousand years will pass--and of this embankment and of all those
men, asleep after their hard work, not one grain of dust will remain.
In reality, it's awful!"