Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1906-12-18
Miseellaneous Rsading.
LAND OF LONG DISTANCES.
vastnsss of South Africa AppaII' the
Traveller.

| Vastness OF South Africa Appalls INT
Traveller.
1t is fashionable to allude to rail-
way Journey in South Africa In tones
Of thinly yelled scorn and contempt, tc
condemn IT as tiresome. complain Of II
as uninteresting. There is space-al-
most undreamed of space. And thai
is all. says the Pail Mall Gazette
Through the east the traveller lives
in the past. He feels. If he has any
imagination at all, that for the moment
he has become part Of an ancient CIV
ilization which still survives the train
and the Telegraph. he moves through
cities with a story in every stone; each
mile brings new pictures Of the might
and wealth which fill the most enchant-
ing pages in the book Of history.
In America you cross a land Of the
future. The cities are marvels Of in
ventive genius; even away in the coun-
try there is an echo of the hum Of rest
less enterprise, the murmur Of a peo-
pie confident they are hurrying on to
reaIlZe great ueStlHy.
But across the great plateau of
South Africa you seem to live always
in the present 1t becomes a dominat-
ing idea. You cannot picture a past
save like the present, or imagine fu-
ture differing from today. The veldt
is, and 1t looks as II 1t will always be
as 1t is. THE slender thread Of steel
which crosses its illimitable space, the
little towns set down at such great
distances from one another, play no
part in the scene. They are there, 1t is
true; but they look fortuitous, out OF
place. Trains clang across the Karoo,
and pant up the hillsides from Natal;
but the veldt ignores them, 1t does not
adapt itself to them. The slow-mov-
ing OK wagon alone fits in the picture;
the mail train, with its searchlight
piercing the darkness and peace of the
night, Is and always will be, a thing
apparent. 1t always seems to me that
there is something curious, almost un-
canny, about the great spaces OF South
Africa-something you do not find In
other great lands. The haste Of mod
ern life Clashes with the spirit OF the
veldt. There is silent protest
against the intruder. The country calls
disease and drought to its aid to pre-
vent its freedom being shackled by the
bonds oflcivilization and the handouts
If progrsss.
The space destroys speed. AS you
hurry northward or eastward from
London in a mile a minute express the
close-set villages fly past, increasing
the impression Of haste; but let the
same engine pull the train northward
from the cape into the heart Of Africa
and it's speed will seem to slacken.
Steam cannot eat up the distance of
such a continent, and there are no
contrasts, on near landmarks, by which
to measure the onward rush.
Yet such journey, monotonous as
1t is. brings scenes which give it fas-
cination all its own. No one can paint
in words or on canvas the beauty # a
South African morning just after SUM-
rise. Your carriage stands still at
some wayside station, with its solitary
one story house and inevitable dwarfed
tree. Away, as far as the eye can see,
stretches the thin grassland. The
landscape holds nothing to attract
save it's space; but the sunshine Is
something England never knows, the
air is like draught Of champagne, the
marvellous clearness and freshness
which no other land can equal-give
new life No breeze yet swirls the dust
across the plain. All the world is still,
as though lost in silent worship of the
loveliness of the moment
A few sleepy Kafflrs, wrapped close
in blankets which display rainbow OF
color. gaze with languid eyes at the
painting monster. The white man and
his ways are familiar today in the heart
of the Dark Continent. Yet there are
men living who remember the time
when the coast tribes believed that
white men were a production of the
sea, which they traversed In large
shells, their food being the tusks or
elephants, which they would take from
the beach II laid there for them, plac-
ing beads In their stead, which they OBJ
tanned from the bottom Of the sea.
History has been made quickly In
South Africa
A shrill whistle, and on again into
space All day you clatter forward-a
little uncertainty at times. There are
mysterious wayside halts in the will
derness. when you seem to have run
out Of the world and been side tracked
far from the haunts Of men; there are
waitings at tiny sidings from which
not a habitation is visible, and where
the only possible traffic appears to be
l wild buck or an occasional stray bull
lock. The land is empty. The swarms
Of natives you expected to see are ab-
sent: the country looks deserted. Space
only space Now and then there
gides into the picture a town with
name known to history. the site Of a
siege, the field Of battle. The I'M
preston it leaves is simply one Of in
significance. No ordinary town could
look imposing upon such a plan.
All day the train tolls onward, grow
ing weary at times as though dis
heartened at the miles which still
stretch ahead. A few herds Of goats
or cattle: shy figure in the distance
which makes you think Of the harried
Bushman rthe wild Vaal pens; now
and then a hivelike krall away under
the shade of some trees. But no Incl
dent, no break-never was there such
monotony. Yet you can not cOnjure up
4 different picture. Even in imagina-
tion you cannot transform the Veldt.
It was thus when the shelter Of the
coast settlements come into the un-
known. 1t is thus today. 1t will be
thus in a decade-perhaps in CEN
tury.
Sunset is as wonderful as the dawn.
The still, cloudless sky darkens rap
idly as the sun sinks below the rim
| ,ha A cplitarv pnia becomes