A VIEW OF VICTORIA FALLS.
Not half a mile from the falls Livingstone left the canoe in which he had started upon his journey, and embarked in a lighter one. This was manned by men well acquainted with the rapids. By passing down the center of the stream and taking advantage of the eddies and still places caused by the jutting rocks, he was able to reach an island in the middle of the river. This island was on the edge of the lip over which the water rolled.
In trying to reach this island there was danger of being swept along in some one of the streams which rushed by it. Fortunately the river was low, and Livingstone thus accomplished what he could not have done had it been high.
Though he had reached the island, and was within a few yards of the falls, of which he could command a good view, yet he could not solve the problem of where the vast volume of water went.
It seemed to lose itself as it disappeared into this fissure, the opposite lip of which was only eighty feet distant.
Livingston could not comprehend this mystery, till, creeping to the edge of the abyss, he peered with awe down into a large rent extending from bank to bank of the Zambesi. The river, a stream a thousand yards broad, took this gigantic leap of a hundred feet and became suddenly compressed into a space of from fifteen to twenty yards.
Livingstone found that the entire falls are but a crack made in a hard basaltic rock. This crack extends from the right to the left bank of the river. It is then prolonged on the left bank of the stream through thirty or forty miles of hills.
Looking down into the fissure on the right of the island, he saw nothing but a dense white cloud. At the time of his visit two beautiful rainbows gave added beauty to the scene. From this dense white cloud a great jet of vapor, looking exactly like steam, mounted some two hundred or three hundred feet into the air.
As the vapor became condensed, Livingstone saw its hue change to the color of dark smoke. As it fell to the ground in a constant shower, he became wet to the skin.
The shower fell for the most part upon the opposite side of the fissure. Back a few yards from the lip stood a straight hedge of evergreen trees, whose leaves were always wet.
From the roots of these trees numberless little rills ran back into the abyss. As they flowed down the steep rocky wall the columns of ascending vapor greedily absorbed them, and mounted with them into the air.
Constantly running down the side of the fissure, yet never reaching the bottom of it, these rills were an ever-active example of the laws of condensation and vaporization in nature.
On the left of the island, Livingstone saw the water at the bottom of the fissure moving away towards the place of its escape near the left bank of the river. The walls of this gigantic crack he found to be perpendicular. The rock itself is one solid mass. On the side over which the water falls he found the edge worn off two or three feet. Pieces of the rock had fallen away, owing to the action of the water. This gave to the edge a somewhat serrated appearance.
The rock is of a dark brown color. About ten feet from the bottom he found it somewhat discolored, from the annual rise of the water.
On the left side of the island Livingstone got a good view of the mass of water which causes one of the columns of vapor to rise. It leaped quite clear of the rock. It was the color of snow, and had the appearance of a thick, unbroken fleece all the way to the bottom.
As he describes it, it seemed to break into flakes, all moving in the same direction, like bits of steel giving off sparks when burned in a flame of oxygen gas.
To Livingstone this snow-white sheet of water seemed like myriads of small comets. As they rushed in one general direction, each seemed to leave behind it tiny bodies of foam.
It appeared to him like a mass of water leaping impetuously, at one bound, to clear the rock, and finally breaking gradually into spray.
Three spots near these falls—one of them the island on which Livingstone landed—were former sites of worship. Here it was that the chiefs of native tribes offered prayers and sacrifices.
These places of worship were chosen within hearing of the cataract's roar, and in full sight of the bows in the cloud of vapor.
With awe and wonder these children of Nature looked upon the scene. The river to them was most mysterious, and feelings of fear, no doubt, influenced them somewhat in their selection of places of worship.
Livingstone describes a canoe-song of the natives, the words of which, rudely translated, are:—
"The Leeambye! Nobody knows
Whence it comes and whither it goes."
The Leeambye, you remember, was one of the many names of the river given to it by the natives.
The play of colors on the cloud may have given them the idea that this was the abode of the Deity. Elsewhere they had seen this play of colors only in the rainbow. When seen in the heavens they gave it a name signifying "the pestle of the gods."
"Here," says Livingstone, "they could approach the emblem and see it stand steadily above the blustering uproar below,—a type of Him who sits supreme, alone, unchangeable, though ruling all changing things. But not aware of His true character, they had no admiration of the beautiful and good in their bosoms. They did not imitate His benevolence, for they were a bloody, imperious crew."
When the Zambesi River is full, or in flood, the natives told Livingstone that the columns of vapor can be seen ten miles off, and the roar of the cataract can be heard at fully that distance.
It would be interesting if we could linger longer in this region of the Zambesi River; but, for lack of space, we must hasten on towards the sea.