Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1879-04-29
From the Sunday Afternoon.
ENTERING THE SUEZ CANAL.

Sunset on the Suez Canal. Two in
terminable banks Of grayish-yellow sand,
growing gradually higher as they trend
southwark; little ribbon of light green
water barely visible between them; a
huge steam-dredger in the background,
with clamorous garrison Of blue-shirtcd
men and red-capped boys who rush shout
ing 10 the side to stare at our steamer as
she comes gliding by; behind US the
houses and docks of Ismailia, the Khedive's
new capital, fading into one shapcless
mass Of gray, amid which darker spot
represents the mouth Of the "Sweet-wa-
ter Canal" and all around, the dreary
waste of the great Arabian desert, look
ing vaster and drearier than ever beneath
the fast-falling shadows of night.
At first sight it is certainly difficult 10
realize that this tiny streak of water, less
than twenty-seyen feet deep and barely
seventy in breadth, can really be one Of
the great commercial highways Of the
world. Like the Russian military road
across the Caucasus, or the little thread
of railway which spans the boundlcss
desolation of the steppeS between Nolga
and the Don, it is 50 utterly dwarfed by
the vastneSs of its surroundings that one
half forgets the magnitude of the results
achieved, or the long and terrible strug-
gle against heat, sickness, drifting sand,
insufficient supplies, and constant hind
RANGES of every kind, which human per
severance have conducted 10 this glorious
completion. The men Of old time when
they attempted the same task, certainly
found it no child's play. in the reign
of Necho." says Hcrodotus, notebook in
hand as usual, zone hundred and twenty
thousand Egyptians perished in digging
this canal" What history Of opprcs-
sion and wrong, of grinding misery and
wholesale destruction, do those few words
convey!
"Stand by your anchor. Let go
The captain hoarse shout,a the rat
tie of the chain as our anchor splashcs
into the water. scatter my visions at once,
and | look up to perceive that our sur
roundings have undergone a sudden and
marvellous change. From the narrow,
monotonous avenue of the canal we have
glided into a wide expanse Of smooth,
dark water, which seems almost bound
less in the shadowy twilight To the
south and west long waves Of purple hill
roll up against the last CLEAN Of light
that fingers in the darkening sky. In
front the posts set to mark the channel
start out gauntly like skeleton scntinels;
and amid the deepening gloom twinkles
solitary point OF hre-the lighthouse
that guards the passage. This is the ia
nous Bitter Lake, one of the countless
lagoons that occupy full third Of the
space traversed by the canal.
"Are YOU going to stop here, captain:
Don't see what else we can do,
growls the skipper, ''if them feller
make us 90 half speed through the
canawl, so as it comes on dark atore We
can get through. If we was TO 90 It
full steam we d run the whole eighty-thrcc
miles tween sunrise and dark easy: but
its no fault of mine anyhow. :.
But no halt can be matter Of regret
on this historic ground, where the very
earth seems to be still shaken by the
tramp of ancient empires, and the very
air to be filed with memories of the past.
Few spots upon the face OF the earth
have a stranger mingling Of the familiar
and the remote, of names which were the
household words of our earliest childhood
with others which are known only to the
driest lore of the antiquarian. Hebrew
shepherd and ASsyrian conqueror, Persian
and Greek, Saracen and Crusader, French
man and Anglo-Saxon-al have been
here in turn.
As the full moon breaks forth in it,
cloudless glory, the shadowy armies
seem to rise around US once more-Mos-.
es and the thousands of Israel, setting
forth upon that wonderful march Of
which God himself was the pioneer-AS-
| syrian y mus III Ills CdIfSu NlldIlol. Will
the captains of the host and mighty
men of valor'' around him in all the
pomp and splendor of war-the turbancd
warriors of Cambyses with their light
lances and huge wicker shields. sweep
ing onward to that fierce short fever OF
conquest beyond which lay an unknown
grave in the depths of the hungry desert
the soldier zealots of Arabia, following
black -browed Amrou TO the sack of Al
exandria-mail-clad horsemen with the
Red Cross on their breasts, straining
their eyes to catch the first CLEAN Of
Saladin's spears along the sky-and
finally, the war-wom grenadiers of Re
publican France, gathered around the
dark, stern face and eagle eve of the
General Bonaparte' who was one day
to be the Emperor Napoleon.
DISCUSSING AN ABSENT FRIEND. -
"Yes, Robnson's clever feller. and he's
| n modest feller and he's a honest fallor.