roof 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