1 SEPTEMBER 1888, Page 8

THE CENTRAL ASIAN RAILWAY.

TWENTY years ago, the possibility of constructing a Central Asian Railway, present to a few minds, was generally regarded as the dream of politicians who are always in a fright, and of projectors who are never satisfied. But the line then talked about in the higher regions of forecasting speculation was one which should traverse the desert between the Caspian and the Sea of Aral, called the Ust Uri, or should follow the depression supposed to be the old bed of the Oxus, and strike that mighty stream in the neighbourhood of Khiva. Each plan, it was considered, might perhaps be carried out at great cost and prolonged labour ; and one of them, it was held, might possibly be completed about this time. Such were the visions of shrewd, imaginative men familiar with the geography, the desert tribes, and the persistent people who had gone among them intent, apparently, on pushing their boundaries at least to the Oxus, and probably far beyond it, in the fullness of time. There was to be, perhaps, a line from the Caspian to the Aral or the Lower Oxus, and a flotilla on that river, constructed for the purpose of bringing the Caucasus and Transcaucasia into close com- munication with Russian Turkestan. Little or nothing more.

How far the reality, accomplished a few months ago, has transcended the visions of the seers ! Instead of creeping about on the sandy steppe to the westward and south-west- ward of the Khivan oasis, the Russian soldier-politicians and engineers have taken a bold flight through tracts which it was confidently asserted they could never reach, and have laid down nine hundred miles of rails uniting Krasnovodsk with " silken Samarcand." They have crossed the sand steppe to Kizil Arvat ; built their permanent way at the loot of the northern slopes of the Kopet Dagh ; extended it to Merv, a site whose history goes back deep into the pre- Christian centuries, and often declared to be inaccessible ; planted down their rails upon the quivering, shifting, we might say the flying sands, which almost fill the horrid spa northward from Mery to the Oxus near Chanljui ; thrown a bridge over its yellow floods ; and, passing near Bokhara "the holy," have prolonged the path of the "devil's cart" into the heart of Sogdiana, once so rich and populous, and have set up their terminus within musket-shot of the tomb of Timour. Not more than eight years have been occupied in performing this audacious enterprise,— much the longer length having been achieved in three. They have conquered the Tekkes, subjected the Mervian tribes, overcome the perils of the waterless tracts on both banks of the great river, brought Samarcand within ten days of St. Petersburg, and opened a new route between European Russia and her vast dominions on the Pacific -.coast, which may be used until the railway is made through Siberia to Vladivostock. There must be powerful political motives at the back of the Central Asian extension, since Transcaspia, like Transcaucasia, is a dead loss to the Imperial Treasury. But there it is,—a startling com- mentary on the fallibility of human foresight; a glaring proof that we underrate, and have always underrated, the daring, the ingenuity, the persistency, and the power of the Russians, a sign of imminent peril to Persia and Afghanistan, and a menace to India, which it was ever intended to be. We may overestimate its potential -qualities, but we are bound to take it into account as -one of the largest elements in the Central Asian problem. It was probably the sudden development of productive power in the oil-wells at Baku that gave the impetus to the swift construction of this extraordinary line. At one period the Russian engineers thought that they would have an adequate supply of oil from sources east of the Caspian; but these springs have been soon exhausted, and, as there is no fuel in Transcaspia except the roots of the saxaul, a weird shrub nourished on the sub-soil of the sand, every pint of liquid which generates the motive-power must be brought from Baku, beyond the sea. That is one drawback. Another, and perhaps more formidable, is the ever-encroaching, restless sand, which in the vast arid stretches traversed by the line constantly wages war upon the permanent way, as it does on the gardens and cultivated plots which run up to its margin. A third disadvantage, but one more easily guarded against, is the floods rolling down from the torrents of the Kopet Dagh whenever a tempest breaks on the summits. At some cost oil, can be brought to the locomotives, and properly constructed culverts will carry the storm waters ; but nothing yet devised can get rid of the endless and volatile sands, and their invasions can only be met by temporary expedients. Then we observe that the permanent way is not solidly built, and that the wooden structure which spans the Oxus is at present a makeshift, and an apology for a bridge capable of bearing heavy traffic. It need hardly be said that the stations and rolling- stock are rough expedients, and that conveniences for travellers there are none. The line and its accompaniments are the work of the pioneer, rude, imperfect, calling for more and more roubles ; yet when all deductions are made, we are bound to say that, judging from the published accounts of one who has endured the journey to Samar- cand, the work done is a solid gain to Russia, and a great exploit which takes a firm hold on the imagination. We may assume that this skeleton of a railway will be gradually improved into something substantial, that in due course a real bridge will rise above the Oxus, and that the Russian Government will be able to rely upon the line to do the work they want done. Yet, even as it is, what a change must it bring about in the oasis ! The Russian governs as he goes ; permits much, but insists on being obeyed ; draws into his civil and military organisation those who are useful ; has few prejudices, and little philanthropic sentiment. He will build towns, restore irrigation, drill the Turcomans, and bring order, in some form suitable to him, out of the tribal chaos. Already the Persian labourers have crossed the hills to toil on the roads, and the crack of the Cossack whip keeps the lazy Moslem to his task. The small traders have arrived—Armenians, Georgians, Jews, Greeks—to buy and sell, and make a market out of Turcoman industry. The watch-towers, used by the cultivator as a refuge, are no longer wanted, for raids are not now permitted. It is worth noting that, far from diminishing, the railroad, rough as it is, has increased the number of camels, so that the two modes of transport will be available in case of need ; and should trade spring up, camels and horses, doubtless, will grow more plentiful than ever. But if, south of the Oxus, the Russian and his locomotive will work wonders in the oases and the steppes, how much more will they do in the valley of the golden river, and the fertile stretches of Bokhara and Samarcand, which were said to furnish several hundred thousand horsemen in the days of Timour ! The Oriental estimate savours of hyperbole; but there can be little doubt that, from North and South combined, the tribes and the people of the plains will yield many thousands of mounted men. And quite apart from the benefits of home trade, whatever they may be, and of order, harsh as it is, much of which will accrue to the population, Russia has secured a great moral advantage by a track the outward signs of which are an evidence and suggestion of power. Then, at the back of these gains is the pregnant fact that Turkestan is now, in point of time, a near neighbour of the military stations in the Caucasus, and that all the excess quarteren there can be easily transported to Askabad and Merv.

Therein lies the political and military value of this romantic line. Already it presses upon Khorassan, and it will not be long, perhaps, before a branch is projected to Meshed, towards which famous city roads point from the Tekke oasis. Regarded in any light, the iron road marks an era in Central Asia which may develop well or ill, but is surely the opening day of events certain to be felt far and wide, from the Kizil Kum to Seistan, from the Caspian to the Indus.