﻿554 
  

  

  THE 
  NATIONAL 
  GEOGRAPHIC 
  MAGAZINE 
  

  

  Drawn 
  by 
  James 
  M. 
  Darley 
  

  

  A 
  SKETCH 
  MAP 
  OP 
  THE 
  RUHR 
  BASIN 
  

  

  west 
  Germany, 
  merging 
  with 
  what 
  geolo- 
  

   gists 
  call 
  the 
  "Gulf 
  of 
  Cologne." 
  Its 
  

   climate 
  is 
  mildly 
  oceanic, 
  with 
  the 
  heaviest 
  

   rainfall 
  in 
  July. 
  

  

  A 
  SOUD 
  PROCESSION 
  OP 
  BUSY 
  TOWNS 
  

  

  Plunging 
  suddenly 
  into 
  this 
  teeming 
  

   industrial 
  field 
  on 
  the 
  train 
  ride 
  from 
  

   Cologne 
  to 
  Berlin, 
  and 
  passing 
  through 
  

   Dusseldorf, 
  where 
  150 
  trains 
  a 
  day 
  puff 
  

   in 
  and 
  out, 
  you 
  are 
  amazed 
  at 
  the 
  solid 
  

   procession 
  of 
  busy 
  towns, 
  at 
  the 
  almost 
  

   endless 
  forest 
  of 
  chimneys, 
  and 
  the 
  pall 
  

   of 
  somber 
  smoke 
  that 
  hangs 
  over 
  the 
  

   flat, 
  unattractive 
  country. 
  

  

  In 
  this 
  small 
  but 
  highly 
  mineralized 
  

   region, 
  where 
  men 
  have 
  dug 
  coal 
  for 
  600 
  

   years, 
  over 
  400 
  concerns 
  now 
  operate 
  

   mines 
  or 
  hold 
  concessions 
  for 
  their 
  ex- 
  

   ploitation. 
  And 
  the 
  Ruhr 
  industrial 
  

   region 
  is 
  even 
  larger 
  than 
  the 
  mining 
  

   area, 
  for 
  it 
  overflows 
  to 
  the 
  southwest 
  

   and 
  includes 
  the 
  famous 
  factory 
  towns 
  

   of 
  Barmen, 
  Elberfeld, 
  and 
  Solingen. 
  

  

  Tin's 
  whole 
  Ruhr 
  region, 
  its 
  myriad 
  

   whistles 
  screeching 
  like 
  a 
  vast 
  fleet 
  lost 
  

   in 
  a 
  fog, 
  shrouded 
  in 
  smoke 
  by 
  day 
  and 
  

   lil 
  by 
  furnace 
  flares 
  at 
  night, 
  its 
  forest 
  

   of 
  gaunt 
  chimneys 
  splitting 
  the 
  sky 
  like 
  

   the 
  trunks 
  of 
  giant 
  dead 
  trees, 
  forms 
  a 
  

   powerful 
  picture 
  of 
  humming 
  human 
  

   activity. 
  

  

  Workmen 
  you 
  see 
  everywhere 
  — 
  hun- 
  

   dreds, 
  thousands 
  of 
  them 
  — 
  busy 
  as 
  ants; 
  

   and 
  deep 
  down 
  in 
  the 
  bowels 
  of 
  earth, 
  

   half 
  a 
  mile 
  down 
  or 
  deeper, 
  thousands 
  

   more 
  are 
  working, 
  stark 
  naked, 
  in 
  the 
  

   stifling 
  heat 
  and 
  dust 
  of 
  the 
  mines, 
  delv- 
  

   ing 
  for 
  the 
  coal 
  that 
  all 
  Europe 
  needs. 
  A 
  

   distinct 
  and 
  clannish 
  class 
  these 
  pale, 
  

   short-lived 
  miners 
  are, 
  an 
  hereditary 
  

   social 
  group 
  wherein 
  son 
  follows 
  father 
  

   and 
  takes 
  pride 
  in 
  his 
  calling. 
  

  

  So 
  thickly 
  do 
  the 
  mines 
  crowd 
  each 
  

   other 
  that 
  a 
  mining 
  map, 
  with 
  round 
  

   black 
  dots 
  to 
  show 
  the 
  pits, 
  looks 
  at 
  first 
  

   glimpse 
  oddly 
  as 
  if 
  a 
  charge 
  of 
  bird- 
  

   shot 
  had 
  been 
  fired 
  at 
  it. 
  Viewed 
  from 
  

   an 
  airplane, 
  the 
  whole 
  highly 
  developed 
  

   region, 
  with 
  its 
  tangled 
  net 
  of 
  waterways, 
  

   railways, 
  and 
  tram 
  lines, 
  forms 
  a 
  quaint 
  

   pattern, 
  like 
  that 
  the 
  fishworms 
  make 
  

   crawling 
  over 
  flat 
  mud 
  spots 
  after 
  a 
  hard 
  

   rain. 
  

  

  And 
  over 
  all 
  the 
  towns, 
  always, 
  hangs 
  

   the 
  smoke, 
  drifting 
  sometimes 
  close 
  to 
  

   earth, 
  like 
  the 
  fogs 
  that 
  roll 
  in 
  at 
  San 
  

   Francisco. 
  

  

  Till' 
  STORY 
  OP 
  THE 
  KRUPP 
  BOOM 
  

  

  "Boom" 
  towns 
  of 
  mushroom 
  growth 
  

   are 
  not 
  peculiar 
  to 
  America, 
  as 
  the 
  start- 
  

   ling 
  rise 
  of 
  Essen 
  plainly 
  proves. 
  Though 
  

   founded 
  away 
  back 
  in 
  the 
  ninth 
  century, 
  

  

  