steppe.

We are running at a speed of thirty miles an hour in a southwesterly
direction, along the Persian frontier. It is only beyond Douchak that
the line begins to leave it. During this three hours' run the two
stations at which the train stops are Gheours, the junction for the
road to Mesched, whence the heights of the Iran plateau are visible,
and Artyk where water is abundant although slightly brackish.

The train then traverses the oasis of the Atek, which is an important
tributary of the Caspian. Verdure and trees are everywhere. This oasis
justifies its name, and would not disgrace the Sahara. It extends to
the station of Douchak at the six hundred and sixtieth verst, which we
reach at six o'clock in the morning.

We stop here two hours, that is to say, there are two hours for us to
walk about. I am off to look at Douchak with Major Noltitz as my
cicerone.

A traveler precedes us out of the railway station; I recognize Sir
Francis Trevellyan. The major makes me notice that this gentleman's
face is more sullen than usual, his lip more scornful, his attitude
more Anglo-Saxon.

"And do you know why, Monsieur Bombarnac? Because this station at
Douchak might be the terminus of a line from British India through the
Afghan frontier, Kandahar, the Bolan Pass and the Pendjeh oasis, that
would unite the two systems."

"And how long would the line be?"

"About six hundred miles. But the English will not meet the Russians in
a friendly way. But if we could put Calcutta within twelve days of
London, what an advantage that would be for their trade!"

Talking in this way the major and I "did" Douchak. Some years ago it
was foreseen how important this village would be. A branch line unites
it with Teheran in Persia, while there has, as yet, been no survey for
a line to India. While gentlemen cast in the mould of Sir Francis
Trevellyan are in the majority in the United Kingdom, the Asiatic
network of railways will never be complete.

I was led to question the major regarding the safety of the Grand
Transasiatic across the provinces of Central Asia.

In Turkestan, he told me, the safety is well assured. The Russian
police keep constant watch over it; there is a regular police force at
the stations, and as the stations are not far apart, I don't think the
travelers have much to fear from the nomad tribes. Besides, the
Turkomans are kept in their place by the Russian administration. During
the years the Transcaspian h