The principal features that struck me were, first, the colossal width of the river. As we gazed across the translucent surface, reflecting as in a looking-glass the fringe of trees along the edge, the first impression was that your eyes actually perceived the opposite bank; but we were undeceived by one of the residents, who observed that was only an island, and that there were several such between us and the north side. Secondly, we marvelled at the clearness of the water, reflecting the blueness above; and, thirdly, at the rich vegetation and the intense green of the overhanging foliage, where the graceful and so rarely seen palms of the Borassus tribe were growing to an immense height. All was enhanced by the most intense solitude, which seemed to accentuate the fact that this scene of Nature was indeed as God left it. These reflections were made as we floated on in our rickety canoe to a creek, where we landed to walk to the actual Falls. A new path had just been cut in the wooded part of the north bank, and we were almost the first visitors to profit by it. Formerly the enterprising sight-seers had to push their way through the scrubby undergrowth, but we followed a smooth track for two miles, the roar of the cataract getting louder and louder, with only occasional peeps of the river, which was fast losing its calm repose and degenerating into restless rapids hurrying on to their bourne. Now and then a buck would dance across our path, pause affrighted for an instant at the unusual sight of man, and bound away again into the thickness beyond; and once three fine wart-hogs almost stumbled into our party, only to gallop away again like greyhounds, before the rifles, which were carried by the black boys behind, could be made use of.
At last we emerged suddenly, without any warning, on the northern extremity of the cataract, which at this point measures over a mile from bank to bank, but of which only about a quarter of that distance is visible, owing to the blinding spray. It is wellnigh impossible to describe a scene of such wonder, such wildness. It is awe-inspiring, almost terrible in its force and majesty, and the accompanying din prevents speech from being heard. Standing on a point flush with the river before it makes its headlong leap, we gazed first on the swirling water losing itself in snowy spray, which beat relentlessly on face and clothes, while the great volume was nosily disappearing to unknown and terrifying depths. The sight-seer tries to look across, to strain his eyes and to see beyond that white mist which obscures everything; but it is an impossible task, and he can but guess the width of the Falls, slightly horseshoe in shape, from the green trees which seem so far away on the opposite bank, and are only caught sight of now and then as the wind causes the spray to lift. At the same time his attention is fixed by a new wonder, the much-talked-of rainbow. Never varying, never changing, that perfect-shaped arc is surely more typical of eternity there than anywhere else. Its perfection of colours seems to be reflected again and yet again in the roaring torrent, and to be also an emblem of peace where all is turmoil. We were hurried away to remove our wet rainproof coats and to dry our hats and faces in the brilliant sunshine. It seemed as if the Falls guard their beauties jealously, and do not allow the spectator to gaze on them without paying the price of being saturated by their spray. For the next two hours we were taken from one point of vantage to the other, and yet felt we had not seen half of even what is known as the north side. We were shown the barely commenced path leading right away down to the edge of the foaming, boiling gorge, which is to be known as "The Lovers' Walk," and from its steepness it occurred to me that these same lovers will require to possess some amount of endurance. We examined from afar the precipitous Neck jutting right out opposite the main cataract, its sides running sheer down to unfathomable depths of water, which has caused this rocky formation to be called "The Knife's Edge," and along which, up to the date of our visit, only two men had ventured. We saw the actual site for the existing railway-bridge, which site had only been finally selected a few days before by two of the party who were with us.[[46]] The travellers over this great work now see all we saw on that long morning, and a great deal more besides, while the carriage windows are soused by the all-pervading spray, thus carrying out one of Mr. Rhodes's cherished sentiments. Finally—musing at the marvellous and confusing twists and turns of the river, changing in character and appearance so as to be wellnigh unrecognizable—we walked on a hundred yards, and came upon a deep, deep gorge, rocky, barren, and repelling, at the bottom of which, sluggish and dirty in colour, a grey stream was winding its way, not a hundred yards wide, but of unfathomable depths; and this represented the Zambesi after it has taken its great leap, when, bereft of all life and beauty, it verily looks tired out. This gorge continues for forty miles, and so desolate is the surrounding country, that not only is it uninhabited by man, but even game cannot live there. The shadows were lengthening and the day was approaching its close. Early on the morrow we were to leave for the northern hunting grounds. We regained our canoe, and paddled away to our temporary camp.
Again we were delighted with the calm beauty of that river scene, and found it difficult to decide when it was most beautiful—whether the morning light best gilded its glories or whether the evening lent additional calm. We passed island after island in bewildering succession. Away towards the drift three huge black masses were splashing in the water, which we easily made out to be hippopotami taking their evening bath, and as we glided along a sleepy crocodile slipped back into the water from a muddy eminence where it had been basking in the sun. Then our canoe ran into a creek where leaves and ferns grew in delightful confusion, and we landed in soft marshy ground just as the sun was sinking like a red ball into the river, and giving way to the sovereignty of a glorious full moon, which soon tinged everything with a silver light, making glades of palms look delightfully romantic.
Civilization has since found its way to Livingstone. Engines are whistling and trains are rumbling where then the only tracks were made by the huge hippos and the shy buck, but they can never efface the grandeur of the river in its size and calmness; the incomparable magnificence of the cataract itself; the rainbow, which one cannot see without retaining a lasting impression of its beauty; and, lastly, that cloud of white spray, seemingly a sentinel to watch over the strength and might of the huge river, for so many ages undiscovered.
Many who knew the Falls in their pristine solitude have gladly welcomed there the advent of twentieth-century developments, of sign-posts, of advertisements, of seats, of daily posts and papers; but others, some of the older pioneers, still, perchance, give a passing sigh for the days when they paddled about the river in a leaky canoe, and letters and telegrams were not events of everyday occurrence.
In spite of the railway constructed since our visit, few people, comparatively, have been to North-Western Rhodesia, and yet it is a country of over 400,000 square miles. It was in October, 1897, that the then administrator of the country,[[47]] with five policemen, crossed the Zambesi and declared the territory to be under the protection of Her Late Gracious Majesty, Queen Victoria. For many years previously the natives, who are not of a particularly warlike disposition, had been decimated, and the country laid waste, by the fierce Matabele, who were in the habit of making periodical raids into this fair land, and of killing the old men and the young warriors, who made but a slight resistance; of annexing the attractive ladies as wives and the fat cattle as prized booty, and then of retreating again south of the mighty river without fear of reprisals. For this reason there was, in 1903, a very meagre population for many hundreds of miles north of the Zambesi in this direction; and of cattle, for which there is pasture in abundance, there was hardly one to be seen. One has to travel much farther north and west to find the densely populated valleys, whose inhabitants own Lewanika, Chief of the Barotse, as their ruler, who look to the great white British King as their protector, and to the Chartered Company as the immediate purveyor of their wants.
Of these natives the chief tribes are, first, the Barotse themselves, who are the most numerous, and who inhabit the low-lying country along the Zambesi Valley north of Sesheke, and up to Lia-Lui, their capital.
The second in importance are the Mushukulumbwe, which, translated literally, means "naked people." This designation was given them as a reproach by their friends, as the male element wear no clothes; and should they possess a blanket, they would only throw it round their shoulders whilst standing still or sitting down. When remonstrated with by the well-meaning missionaries on the absence of any attire, they are wont to reply: "Are we women or children, that we should fear the cold? Our fathers needed no clothes, nor do we." They are keen hunters and trackers, essentially a warlike people, tall and good-looking, while the women also are of more than average height, and gracefully made. What the men lack in clothes they make up for in their head-dress, which has been so often illustrated, and which is sometimes 5 feet in height. It is the result of much care and trouble, and the cause of great pride to the wearer. Ruled over by a number of small chiefs, they mostly own Lewanika as their paramount chief, and to him they pay tribute. They are withal a curious, wild kind of people, but are now becoming less afraid of, and in consequence less hostile to, the white man, the first of whose race they saw in 1888, when Mr. Selous[[48]] penetrated into their country, and very nearly lost his life at their hands. Now they are well-disposed, and it is safe to travel through their land with a comparatively small escort.
Thirdly, the Batokas. These are, and always have been, a servile race. They are lazy in disposition, for the most part of unprepossessing appearance, and their country has the Kafue River on the east, and the Zambesi on the south, as natural boundaries. As carriers they do fairly well, and, while also owning Lewanika's authority, they are well aware of the fact that this chief only rules in virtue of the support of the "Great King" in a far-off land, whom they often hear of, but can never hope to see.
In consequence of having lived for so many generations in terror of being raided by their more bellicose neighbours, all these tribes acclaimed with joy the advent of their English protectors, and their demeanour is strikingly expressive of gratitude and respect. This is evinced by their native greeting, which consists of sitting down and clapping their hands together in a slow rhythm whenever a white man passes. Sometimes a traveller hears this clapping proceeding out of the immensely high and thick grass which encloses the road, and he is by this sound alone made aware of the presence of a human being. Their food consists entirely of grain, which they greatly prefer to meat, even when this is offered to them. They boil this grain, which resembles millet or canary seed, into a sort of porridge, which they eat with the greatest gusto, and one meal a day seems to suffice them.