THE JUNCTION FOR TOMSK. 293 



Now it is the junction for Tomsk, which lies on 

 a branch line 59 miles to the north, and wears 

 an air of importance in consequence. The line 

 expands mysteriously into a dozen sidings, red 

 wooden buildings with green roofs spring up all 

 round, numerous engines with quaint bulbous-shaped 

 spark-arresters surmounting their funnels — for wood 

 still forms the greater part of the fuel on the 

 Siberian railway — puff officiously up and down, 

 while a large brick engine - house shelters a dozen 

 more. Long rows of red waggons occupy many of 

 the sidings, with here and there a water - tank 

 among them. And thereby hangs a tale, for 

 Taigar, to say the least of it, was inconsiderately 

 chosen, there being practically no water, and the 

 supply having consequently to be brought by rail. 

 Indeed the whole line seems to have been built 

 with an astonishing lack of foresight. The water- 

 supply in many cases appears to have been con- 

 sidered only after the rails were laid, the rails 

 themselves were far too light for what was re- 

 quired of them, and were speedily replaced by 

 heavier ones, which in their turn are proving all 

 too light for the amount of traffic which has 

 rapidly sprung up. No provision was made when 

 the embankments were thrown up for the future 

 doubling of the line ; the cuttings are so narrow 

 and so steep that you expect every shower to 

 bring a ton of earth rolling down on to the line, 

 and all the bridges have been built to admit only 

 of a single rail. No doubt the traffic, which sprang 

 up as if by magic, far exceeded all calculations, 

 and while work is being pushed forward to enable 

 the existing line to cope with the demands made 

 upon it, such as the replacing of the wooden 



