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and equally violent roar from the east, sometimes suddenly interrupted by the wind, then again suddenly rising, similar to the sound of distant thunder, struck upon my ear, as I, on the 17th September, 1877, passed down the valley of the Matopa River. At first it seemed to me a delusion; however, with each step the sound increased audibly, and I involuntarily felt a thrill of pleasure pass through my body. My spirits suddenly revived, and I vigorously strode on, forgetting the pain I had endured during the whole morning from my wounded feet. The dull roar which had met my ear was the first messenger of that wondrous phenomenon which the inost meritorious of African explorers had named, in honour of Her Most Gracious Majesty, the “Victoria Falls.”

On the following morning, as the sun wheeled his golden chariot urer the summits of the mountains of the Katonga country, and I, absorbed in inute adiniration, saw the most magnificent natural scenery unroll its charming picture before my eres, I stood on the edge of a forest, which is the highest I yet had the opportunity of observing in South Africa.

A gentle shower fell over me, and sprinkled the leafy crowns of the gigantic trees, whose sturdy limbs were entwined with the delicate tendrils of vines and creepers behind me, as well as the thick foliage of the palms at my right, so that their broad leaves glistened with thousands of pearly drops. These, again, fell on the soft velvet of the verdant moss, forming small rippling streams, urging their way through the saturated turf, to be precipitated over the bare and slippery edge of the precipice into the dark abyss, about four hundred feet deep, opening a few yards before me. There