164 THROUGH GASA LAND. 



refulgence was sufficiently strong to cast many a 

 fantastic shadow from rocks and trees, while there 

 was a delightful balminess in the atmosphere. 



I could not help thinking that the present sur- 

 roundings and mysterious light must give to the 

 eye and brain a strong imaginary resemblance of 

 that spirit world, many of us so often paint in our 

 night dreams. To give strength to these supposi- 

 tions, long shadows would sweep across the trail, 

 giving evidence of the presence of some nocturnal 

 bird of prey, while mystic forms seemed to flit 

 through the dim distance, or stand silent and still 

 like ghostly sentinels. Again, some stump of a 

 tree, riven asunder by a fierce tropical storm, loomed 

 up like a grim spectre ; and even the bushes 

 assumed curious outlines, often those of weird 

 figures, that waved back our advance with their 

 hands, as if indicating a wish to keep out humanity 

 from intrusion on their own spectral world. My 

 companions, known to the world as heathens, and 

 savages, felt the impressiveness of their surround- 

 ings as much as I did, possibly more. This I 

 surmise from all conversation between them having 

 ceased, while every now and then fell from their lips 

 a mournful cadence that might have been taken 

 for a dirge. 



I cannot help thinking that if I understood the 

 beautiful mellifluous language of the Zulus, or they 

 had the power to express it in writing, that it would 



