Omaha daily bee., 1906-10-07
LAND or GREAT DISTANCES
vastnss, Of South Africa lppsls the
Traveller from Abroad
BEAUTIFUL MORNINGS AND SUNSETS
Civilization Looks Out of Place a.
Train Crosses the veIdt-Days
of quiet and Noisy
Nights.


journey m South Africa in tones OF thinly
yelled scorn and contempt. to condemn It
as tiresome, complain Of II as uninterest-
ing. There is space-almost undreamed-of
space. And that Is all. Through the east
the traveller lives in the past. He feels, IL
he has any Imagination at all. that for the
moment he has become part Of an ancient
civilization, which still survives the train
and the telegraph; he moves through cities
with story In every stone; each mile
brings new pictures of the might and
wealth which fills the most enchanting
pages in the book OF history.
In America you cross a land Of the
future. The cities are marvels Of inventive
genius; even away in the country there f.
an echo Of the hum OF restless enterprise
the murmur Of a people confident they are
hurrying on to realize a great destiny.
But across the great plateau OF South
Africa you seem to live always in the
present. II becomes a dominating idea.
You cannot picture past save like the
present or imagine a future differing from
today. The veldt Is and II looks as II It
will always be It is. The slender
thread OF steel which crosses it's illimitable
space, the little towns set down at such
great distances from one another, play no
part in the scene. They are there, II is
true, but they look fortuitous, out Of place
Modern Haste 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-moving OK wagon alone
hts in the picture the mall train. with its
searchlight piercing the darkness and
peace Of the night. is. and always will be, a
thing apart. 1t always seems to me that
there is something curious almost UNI
canny. about the great spaces of southern
Africa-something you do not find in other
great lands. The haste of modern life
clashes with the spirit OF the veldt. There
is silent protest against the intruder
The country calls disease and drouth to
It's aid to prevent its freedom being
shackled by the bonds of civilization and
the handscuffs of progress.
The space destroys speed. AS you hurry
northward or eastward from London in a
milc-!n-minute express the close-set VIII
lagos 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 its speed will seem to
slacken Steam cannot eat up the distances
OF such continent and there are no con-
trasts, no near landmarks, by which to
measure the onward rush
Yet such journey. monotonous as It is,
brings scenes which give 1t a fascination
all its own. No one can paint in words
or on canvas the beauty Of a South Afri-
can morning just after sunrise Your car
rage stands still at some wayside sta
ton, with its solitary one-story house and
inevitable dwarfed tree.
Lifegivins, ExhiIarating Air.
Away az far ne the eva oap eaa stratoha.
the thin grassland. The landscape holds
nothing to attract save Its space, but the
sunshine is something England never
Knows, the air Is like a draught OF cham
payne. the marvellous clearness and fresh
ness-which no other land can equal
gives new life. No breeze yet swirls the
dust across the plain. All the world is
still. as though lost In silent worship
of the loneliness of the moment
few sleepy Kafiirs. wrapped close in
blankets which display rainbow of Color
gaze with languid eyes at the painting mon |
ster 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 of ele-
beach IL laid there for them, placing beads |
In their stead, which they obtained from |
the bottom of the sea. History has been |
made quickly In South Africa.
shrlll whistle and on again into space. |
All day yeu clatter Forwards little un- |
certainly at times. There are mysterious |
wsyside halts in the wilderness when you
seem TO have run out of the world and |
been sidetracked far from the haunts of !
men; there are waitings at tiny sidings |
from which not habitation is visible and |
where the only possible traffic appears to |
be wild buck or an occasional stray bull |
lock. The land is empty. The swarms OF |
natives you expected to see are absent; |
the country looks deserted. Space-only |
space. Now ard then there glides into the |
picture a town with a name known TO |
history, the site OF siege. the field OF a
battle. The impression It leaves is sim
ply one OF inagnihcance. No ordinary |
town could look imposing upon such a
plain
Veldt Always the Same.
AL day the train tolls onward, growing
weary at times as though disheartened at [
the miles which will stretch ahead A
few herds OF goats or cattle; a shy figure
In the distance, which makes you think
OF the harried bushmen or the wild Vaal
pens now and then a hivelike kraal away