was supposed to compensate for any deficiency in these respects on the part of the wife. Hence it came that Ulmene became a bride soon after reaching the age of twenty.
It was during their wedding journey that occurred an incident, unimportant in itself, but interesting from the side-light it throws on some social customs of the period. While on their return from Maoria, Utis turned aside from the direct route in order to show his bride the Falls of the Zambesi. This he did, not only on account of the far-famed grandeur of the scene, but also because the spot was to him of special interest from its associations with an important crisis of his life.
Here they spent a day in wandering along the palm-bordered paths, that, skirting for miles the river-banks, afforded easy access to every point of advantage for viewing the wondrous combinations of rock, and flood, and luxuriant tropical foliage. Partly this was done on foot, but mostly by curricle; for it must be remembered, that this was the one indispensable piece of baggage on such a trip.
One point of view he had reserved for the evening. After they had surveyed for a while, in awed silence, the white deluge of waters plunging into the mist-covered abyss, beneath that bright tropical moonlight that rendered more awful the shadows whence arose the ceaseless voice of the cataract, Utis began to tell of his former visit. He had then been one of a party of six zerdars on furlough. Telephone in hand, each had attempted to describe to some loved though distant ear his sensations and impressions in presence of the tremendous cataract,
