* The river is about one mile (1.6 km) wide at the falls, and
   plunges over 350 feet at the centre.  Livingstone greatly
   underestimated both distances.—­A.  L., 1997.

The fissure is said by the Makololo to be very much deeper farther to the eastward; there is one part at which the walls are so sloping that people accustomed to it can go down by descending in a sitting position.  The Makololo on one occasion, pursuing some fugitive Batoka, saw them, unable to stop the impetus of their flight at the edge, literally dashed to pieces at the bottom.  They beheld the stream like a “white cord” at the bottom, and so far down (probably 300 feet) that they became giddy, and were fain to go away holding on to the ground.

Now, though the edge of the rock over which the river falls does not show wearing more than three feet, and there is no appearance of the opposite wall being worn out at the bottom in the parts exposed to view, yet it is probable that, where it has flowed beyond the walls, the sides of the fissure may have given way, and the parts out of sight may be broader than the “white cord” on the surface.  There may even be some ramifications of the fissure, which take a portion of the stream quite beneath the rocks; but this I did not learn.

If we take the want of much wear on the lip of hard basaltic rock as of any value, the period when this rock was riven is not geologically very remote.  I regretted the want of proper means of measuring and marking its width at the falls, in order that, at some future time, the question whether it is progressive or not might be tested.  It seemed as if a palm-tree could be laid across it from the island.  And if it is progressive, as it would mark a great natural drainage being effected, it might furnish a hope that Africa will one day become a healthy continent.  It is, at any rate, very much changed in respect to its lakes within a comparatively recent period.

At three spots near these falls, one of them the island in the middle, on which we were, three Batoka chiefs offered up prayers and sacrifices to the Barimo.  They chose their places of prayer within the sound of the roar of the cataract, and in sight of the bright bows in the cloud.  They must have looked upon the scene with awe.  Fear may have induced the selection.  The river itself is to them mysterious.  The words of the canoe-song are,

   “The Leeambye!  Nobody knows
   Whence it comes and whither it goes.”

The play of colors of the double iris on the cloud, seen by them elsewhere only as the rainbow, may have led them to the idea that this was the abode of Deity.  Some of the Makololo, who went with me near to Gonye, looked upon the same sign with awe.  When seen in the heavens it is named “motse oa barimo”—­the pestle of the gods.  Here they could approach the emblem, and see it stand steadily above the blustering uproar below—­a type of Him who sits supreme—­alone unchangeable, though ruling over all changing things.  But, not aware of His true character, they had no admiration of the beautiful and good in their bosoms.  They did not imitate His benevolence, for they were a bloody, imperious crew, and Sebituane performed a noble service in the expulsion from their fastnesses of these cruel “Lords of the Isles”.