BUILDING THE OTAVI LINE THROUGH THE GERMAN SOUTH-WEST AFRICAN BUSH

Hereros, Ovambos and Italians working side by side.

When the mining companies expressed their decision they did not anticipate the extraordinary traffic which the railway would be called upon to fulfil a little later. These were duties which not only taxed the capacity of the diminutive railway to a supreme degree, but were of a character which justified the confidence of the engineers and practically saved the colony to the German Empire.

THE PASSAGE OF THE FIRST TRAIN, GAILY DECORATED FOR THE OCCASION, OVER THE “TOY-LIKE” OTAVI RAILWAY

This reproduction of the Festiniog toy railway was commenced without loss of time. In 1903 constructional engineers with a boat-load of constructional material were dispatched to South Africa, and the grade was commenced from Swakopmund, at a point 40 feet above the sea-level, the location extending in a north-easterly direction to Otavi, 300 miles distant in the interior.

The first sod was turned in October, and the constructional engineers bent to their task with great zest. But scarcely had they got into their stride when the Hereros rebellion broke out. This was an unexpected development, and as the natives had been recruited in large numbers to build the permanent way, the engineers were faced with a grave situation. At the first signs of the insurrection the greater majority of the natives threw down their tools and stampeded from the line to their towns and villages to take up arms. The Governor of the colony strove to arrest this wholesale desertion by recourse to drastic measures—he seized as many men working on the grade as he could and placed them safely under lock and key. The result was that the little band of white engineers was left with scarcely a navvy to assist them.

However, they struggled on as best they could, but progress was painfully slow. At first the insurrection was belittled—regarded as a flash in the pan—and the engineers anticipated confidently the early return of their workmen. But these illusions were dispelled rudely when it became realised at last that the country was up in arms from end to end. There was only one way out of the desperate situation, and that was to import labour from Europe. Such a step upset the preliminary estimates for the undertaking to a pronounced degree, for the native labour had been taken into the calculation when framing the cost of the work. To bring white labour from Europe increased the capital outlay very appreciably. However, there was no alternative, and accordingly an Italian contractor arrived on the scene with a small army of 300 Italians, and work resumed its former busy aspect.

However, peace did not reign for long. The Italian workmen saw that they held the advantage over the engineers, that there was no competitive labour, and accordingly they struck for higher pay. The engineers, caught on the horns of a dilemma, had to surrender, and the Italians picked up their tools. Then another cause of dissatisfaction manifested itself. The workmen concluded that they were being driven too hard, so they declined to perform a full day’s labour. They held the whip-hand and emphasised its potency so frequently, and the friction between employers and employed became so keen, that it appeared more than once as if the contract would have to be suspended until the rebellion was quelled.