s to mention that it would have to traverse an Arctic and
unproductive Sahara thousands of miles in extent.

Some enthusiastic visionaries mentioned in an earlier portion of this
chapter have laid stress on the fact that the passenger traffic over
this portion of the line would be enormous, that surging crowds of
sea-sick victims would gladly endure even three weeks in a train in
preference to a stormy passage across the Atlantic, and so forth. But I
fancy a moment's serious thought will show the absurdity of this theory.
In the first place a journey by rail from Paris to New York would
certainly occupy over a month under the most favourable conditions, for
while in summer time all might be comparatively plain sailing, gales,
snow-drifts, and blizzards would surely, judging from our own
experiences, seriously hamper the winter traffic, especially along the
coast. If this leviathan railway is ever constructed it must, in the
opinion of the ablest Russian engineers, depend solely upon (1) the
transport of merchandise, and (2) the development of the now ice-locked
regions it will traverse. The scheme has never been, as many people seem
to imagine, simply to convey passengers and their belongings from one
terminus to the other, for even Jules Verne would probably hesitate to
predict the existence of this line as one of restaurants and
sleeping-cars.

But let us assume that the railway has actually reached East Cape at a
cost of, say, fifty millions sterling from Irkutsk, which is probably a
low estimate. Here we are confronted by another colossal difficulty, the
passage of Bering Straits, which (at the narrowest part) are forty miles
across. Here my friends the theorists have again been very busy, and all
kinds of schemes have been suggested for the negotiation of this
stumbling-block, from a bridge to balloons. Both are equally wild and
impracticable, although the former has been warmly advocated by a
Parisian gentleman, who never having been nearer even Berlin than the
Gare du Nord, can scarcely be expected to know much about the climatic
conditions of North-Eastern Siberia. As a matter of fact, the mightiest
stone and iron structure ever built would not stand the break-up of the
ice here in the spring time for one week. A tunnel could no doubt be
made, for the depth of the Straits nowhere exceeds twenty-seven fathoms,
and the Diomede Islands could be conveniently utilised for purposes of
ventilation. But what would such