A blissful sight! The dark and mazy
woodlands, now, were left far behind--the croaking of the frogs sounded
strangely distant. We gazed in ecstasy upon that shining flood....
On my return journey down the Seldja gorge, that afternoon, I had a narrow
escape. It struck me that it would be more agreeable, instead of once more
following the windings of the brook, to proceed along the railway--a
single line--that climbs down from Ras-el-Aioun to within a few hundred
yards of the _bordj_, where my horse was waiting. It was easier walking;
it would also be shadier (in the tunnels) and, last and chiefest, I would
enjoy a change of scene by looking down into the valley instead of up at
the cliffs.
Plausible reasoning.
This line is a pretty little piece of engineering; there are bridges and
steep embankments that afford fine views into the tortuous depths of the
gorge; there are tunnels, blasted into the rock without lining of masonry,
deliciously cool and all too short--all too short save one, that seemed
never-ending. It writhed about, too, in that dark mountain; I saw no speck
of light, either before or behind me; the iron roadway was raised about a
foot, on rough stones, above the narrow path that followed the jagged,
irregular wall of rock along which I was groping and stumbling.
Pages:
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171