Scientific American Supplement, No. 1157, March 5, 1898 | Page 9

began to make a rapid descent, and the last sixty
miles of our journey were spent in traversing some of the most lovely
mountain scenery I think I have ever visited. Sometimes one might be
passing over a Yorkshire moorland, with its purple backing of hills, for
the sky was lowering and threatened rain. Then the scene would as
quickly change to a Swiss valley, when, on rounding the base of a spur,
one would strike a weird, volcanic-torn country whose mountains piled
up in utter confusion like the waves of the stormy Atlantic; and further
on we would come out upon a plain once more scattered with gigantic
bowlders of porphyry and trap, out of which the monoliths of ancient
Thebes might have been fashioned.
On the morning of the tenth day out from Berber, we sighted the fort
and signal tower of the Egyptian post at Tambuk, on a lofty rugged
rock, standing out in the middle of an immense khor. This was
practically the beginning of the end of our long journey, and here we
rested a few hours, once more drinking our fill of pure sparkling water
from its revetted wells.
About half an hour in a northeasterly direction, after a continual
descent from the Egyptian fort, we noticed, at intervals between the
hills in front of us, a straight band of blue which sparkled in the
sunlight. At this sight I could not refrain from giving a cheer--it was the
Red Sea that glistened with the sun--for it meant so much to us. Across
its shining bosom was our path to civilization and its attendant
comforts, which we had been denied for many a month. Night found us
steadily descending to ward the seaboard, as we neared Otao, in the

vicinity of which we were to bivouac for the night. My camel nearly
stumbled over an old rusty rail thrown across my path, and further on I
could trace in the moonlight the dark trail of a crazy permanent way,
with its rails all askew.
We were passing the old rail head of the Suakim-Berber Railway, that
was started in 1885. I wondered, as I followed fifteen miles of this
rusty line, a gradual slope of 1,800 feet toward the sea, whether the
road I had only just traversed had ever been surveyed for a railway, and
whether anybody had the slightest notion of the difficulties to be
contended with in carrying out the scheme. Of course, modern
engineering, with such men as Sir Benjamin Baker at the fore, can
overcome any difficulty if money be no object, but who can possibly
see any return for the enormous outlay an undertaking of this kind
would entail?
To start with, there is one up grade of 2,870 feet within forty miles
from Suakim, and the khors, through which the railway must wind, are
sometimes raging torrents. To obviate this, if the line be built of trestles
(timber elevations), as with the Canadian Pacific Railway, there is no
wood in the country but for domestic purposes. Material, for every
detail, must be imported. A smaller matter, but also somewhat
important--though water apparently can be found in the khors for the
digging, it is a question whether a sufficient quantity can be got at all
times for the requirements of a railway. The natives themselves are
often very badly off for water, as in the case of the Obak wells.
Wells run dry at odd times in this country, and can never be depended
upon. Of course, water can be condensed at Suakim and stored. Further,
a rival line is already in progress, which will connect Wady Halfa with
Berber early this year. European goods coming by that line from
Alexandria would be free of the Suez Canal dues, and certainly the
directors of that line would treat freights favorably if Suakim should
ever be connected with Berber by rail. As for the interior trade of the
country, nearly all the population have either died from recent famine
or have been killed off in the Mahdi's cause. There is no commercial
center or even market to tap from one end of the road to the other.

The next morning we came in view of Suakim, the city of white coral,
with her surf-beaten opalesque reefs stretching as far as the eye could
follow. It seemed strange to me to be peacefully moving toward her
outlying forts, for when I was last in her vicinity one could not go
twenty yards outside the town without being shot at or running the
gauntlet of a few spears. But here I was, slowly approaching its walls,
accompanied by some of the very men who in those days would have
cut my throat without the slightest hesitation. Suakim had changed
much for the better;