“We propose now to go on and cross the Zambesi just below the Victoria Falls.  I should like to have the spray of the water over the carriages.”—­Letter from the Right Hon. C.J.  Rhodes to E.S.  Grogan, Esq., September 7, 1900.[45]

These words came to my mind as I sat under the verandah of one of the newly thatched huts which formed the camp of the Native Commissioner at Livingstone, Victoria Falls, on a glorious morning early in July, 1903, gazing at one of the fairest landscapes to be seen on God’s earth.  I was ostensibly occupied with my mail home, but the paper lay in all its virgin whiteness before me, while my eyes feasted on the marvellous panorama stretching away to the south, east, and west.  My heart sank as I realized how difficult—­nay, impossible—­it would be for anyone with only a very limited vocabulary and very moderate powers of description to convey to those far away even a limited idea of this glorious vision—­of these vivid colourings intensified by the lonely grandeur of the whole scene and the absence of human habitations.

“Constitution Hill,” as the aforesaid camp had been christened, was situated on high ground, four miles to the north of the then drift of the Zambesi River, which, again, was several miles above the actual falls themselves.  With the advent of the railway and of the magnificent bridge now spanning the mighty river, that drift has actually fallen into disuse, but at the time of our visit it was the scene of much activity, and quite a nest of stores, houses, and huts, had sprung up near the rough landing-stage on the north side.  As transport, not only for individuals and for every ounce of food required by the vast country stretching away to the north, but also for the huge and valuable machinery, boilers, boats in sections, etc., destined for the various mining companies, the only means of maintaining communication with the struggling but promising new colony were one very rickety steam-launch and one large rowing-boat, beside a few canoes and native dug-outs.  A fine steam-barge, which would greatly have facilitated the passage of all kinds of merchandise, had most disastrously slipped its moorings during one stormy night of last wet season, and had not since been seen, the presumption being that the relentless stream had carried it to the mighty cataract, which, like a huge ogre, had engulfed it for all time.  But this disaster had not caused anything like consternation among the small community to whom it meant so much, and the thought occurred to one how remarkable are the qualities of dogged perseverance, calm disregard of drawbacks and of any difficult task before them, which makes Englishmen so marvellously successful as pioneers or colonists.  The precious barge for which they had waited many weary months had disappeared, and there was nothing more to be said.  Such means as remained were made the most of.