transom between the lengthened south-eastern and south-western part of the ravine.
It is separated from the firm land on which I stand by a deep, dry, rocky defile. This gigantic rock, over three hundred feet high, appears to be isolated, surrounded on three sides by water (northeast and south), and as neither its platform or its steep walls are covered with any vegetation, it looks like a silent abandoned castle built of rock, in which all life seems to have been banished by some magic spell. Centuries have passed over it without any trace of age. Vainly have most of the elements united their forces and conspired against it. How often has the lightning hurled its thunderbolts against its flat, venerable head! The sovereign of the winds, Æolus, with his assistants, rush and roar furiously against its isolated, dark, rocky walls, and at its foot rages and dashes the third element, the foaming and whizzing billows of the Zambezi, breaking against the unyielding base. But all in vain! There stands the mighty giant now basking in the sunshine, now enjoying the freshening cool of the night; and as the wind, instead of cooling him with its breath, bespatters him with dust and sand, he leaves it to the rain to clense his flat crown and steep sides. If, besides the formation of the lengthened parts of the deep zigzag ravine above mentioned, we imagine the formation of the shorter southern cross-arms just described to resemble both gigantic rocks now alluded to, the whole scene will appear all the more fascinating to the eye and mind when we look down to the bottom of the ravine through which gushes the tumultuous dark blue stream.
I might say that a new and more attractive picture meets the eye every one hundred and fifty yards as we proceed along the steep bank. The billows of the Zambezi, forced to flow in so narrow a passage, eeem enraged at being obliged to obey; they press with vigour and dash with fury against the rocky walls. Wave after wave, shock after shock, follow each other, thousands during an hour, milliards since the ravine burst open, and still the mighty rocky walls remain unshaken, and the bed of the ravine has not become broader, although so many innumerable drops, so many powerful volumes of water have broken on the prominent ledges of the rocks, which on the acute-like turnings of the ravine oppose as in ridicule the stream with low strap-shaped peaks. How they madly, but vainly, dash against them, and in their rage foam and whiz! There, where their flow is more calm, and where inlets cause a quiet circular motion, the dark blue of the water is particularly striking, and tells of the great depth of the ravine, which is quite necessary in order to receive the extended mass of water above the falls.
Truly the flowing-off of the Zambezi below the Victoria Falls is as worthy of admiration as the falls themselves.
