The daily morning journal and courier., 1902-04-21
GRIM HEAT.
BURNING DAY AND BREATHLESS
 NIGHT
On tho Red sea-The Season of the
 Typhoon.

'Nix Mangiarer were too languld to
 utter the formula of Me very poor
 man. sare' as onep assed. Lahguof
 and stagnation had marked out the
 ..Flor del Mundo' Chower of the Worla)'
 as the Maltese are so fond of calling
 their island, for their own, So let us
 try Egypt. A fresh breeze and com
 paratively low temperature, and This
 is not half so bad is general opihlon
 on board ship after a couple of days
 of it.
 But at noon on the third day a bright
 yellow haze, something like luminous
 London fog, rises in the south, and the
 thermometer scars upward like a sky
 rocket. We have barely time to ask
 what it means when the dreaded
 "Khamsin wind" of the desert is upon
 us. Right from the heart of the sahara
 it comes, laden with fine lmpalpaple
 sand, which blots out the sun, Whlch
 fills every crevce and cranny, which IT,
 ritates the eyes and parches the throat
 and fills ones hair and ears until one
 whole exterior resembles the striking
 side of a matchbox. And the ther-
 mometer still goes up. Ashore, people
 shut up their houses dramatically ana
 do not come out until it is all oVef'
 but afloat one cannot shut up, ana so
 we have to grin and bear it. Ana SD
 the cry is Ship me somewhere east Of
 Suez': but to attain this object one has
 to get through the canal. Here IS sum
 mer, when the Khamsln wind is not
 blowing, it is bearable enough, although
 some people might think temperature
 of 1O4 degrees in the coolest part of the
 shin was somewhat hot. But wait.
 Through the canal and out into the gulr
 of Suez, the thermometer sinks 10 9s
 degrees, and it is only then that one really begins to feel hot. For th's IS damp heat. The fiery, uncompromlslng
 dryness of the desert heat does not seem to suck the marrow from your bones and extract the bone from your back as a skillful cook will extract that of a herring But the deadly damp heat strikes home and doubles one up in twice. The grim, black mountains which fringe the awful Suez desert turn every lovely hue of the rainbow as the sun sinks to rest behind them a vision of beauty so dazzling that no one who has beheld it could ever pos sibly forget it-and, with one stride comes the dark" Perhaps the ther l may mark a degree or two less than during the day. but no sense of coolness is felt. The wind is behind us. and one feels as though all the air had been sucked clear away from the | world In the dark hush of the top l gallant forecastle lies struggling | naked figure, surrounded by rough but | kindly hands, which hold it down and | rub ice on it's head and spine. You | catch the words "stoker" and "heat l apoplexy,'' and the doctor dashes for l ward at the top of his speed. God 1elp those poor fellows in the stoke nold!" says messmate and fervently you re-echo his prayer.
 Day follows burning day, and breath ess night. The aching desert glare is n the sky and the islands with which he Red Sea is choked seems absolutely ed hot as we pass them. Then comes oerim and the straits of Babel-Mandeb. subaltern lives here, for it is British | He was interviewed once and asked what he did. He said that he shot
 sharks with a rifle; they annoyed him because he dared not bathe. Another hundred miles, and the anchor drops I n the bay of Alden. More than 5000 eet overhead the giant crags of Jebel shum- Shum mount towards the clouds; rue, towards the clouds, but where
 ire they? You must seek them in other attitudes than this Black staring rock, -elIow glaring sand, q sea of pale blue ire, and overhead the scorching pitt ess sun. And yet this also is damp
 eat, and in it the white folk wilt and vither and pine. It is mid August, and ven the native-born Somali cannot tand the monday heat. Away in the ndian ocean the southwest monsoon | 5 roaring like an unclaimed devil but or any sake let us be quit of this. Once lore the anchor comes to the bows, nd east the road we go. And now iuardaful is passed, and dim on the lee cam lies the mysterious region of okotra. Here so say the Arabs, dwell emons of heat. demons of thirst, emons of the storm, and it may we'll l e so. Who of us among western civil zed nations can dare to contra dict : hem? And now "We look with joy for he first white spray o'er the bulwarks ung" It comes. ( For some hours we have been steam I lg quietly, sheltered by 'the unknown / orn' of the dark continent which ends l Guardaful and such of the mon- 1on as has reached us has been super eated by the desert sand to a degree I hich nothing but the antiduated mile of "the blast from the furnace { louth' can give any idea of. But now t e are clear, and plunge into the tur- ( loil of the whole gale" which is blow> e lg. It is cooler, distinctly cooler; but a len. life on board ship hes to be con- a dered. You cannot leave ports and e atchways open for the turbulent ocean ) leap in at, and SO in choken and f nothered discomfort we battle our a ay eastward. When we open the V raits of Malacca, for we are bound to S ngapore, different phase of heat r 'nfronts the seafarer. Here on our f arboard hand lies the giant island of u lmatra, where in the north the Dutch O age intellectual and feeble warfare O ith cunning and ferocious natives In- II nd 1t is another Sokotrd unknown , " Id mysterious, full of rank tropical O ,getation, deadly reptiles, and cruel W ,rce beasts and men. On the sea is q 1 ft