e 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-bea
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