22 THE BONDS OF AFRICA 



seemed to kiss each other. There, to the north, 

 was Cairo, behind me was Cape Town. The Hfe 

 desire of Rhodes was to hnk these two distant 

 cities up, and standing there, 2,000 miles from 

 the one and 3,000 from the other, I could not help 

 forgetting big game and all else but the greatness 

 of this man, who, had he lived, would have altered 

 the map of all Africa^ just as he changed the 

 political charts of South Africa ; whose greatest 

 pleasure was to dream of his pet project, and 

 who died all too soon for the British Empire 

 in the Dark Continent. Floreat Rhodesia ! If 

 the man has gone, he has half a continent to 

 keep his name living and to make his fame 

 eternal. 



Over three years went by, and again I crossed 

 the great, yawning gorge into which the Zambesi 

 falls, as though to lose itself for ever. Again 

 I was borne across the broad expanse of the noble 

 Kafue, and as night fell the twinkle of lights told 

 me that Broken Hill had been reached. 



It was a different Broken Hill to that which I 

 had seen but forty months before. Grass grew 

 in the calciner station ; there was no sign of life 

 on the kopjes; the gaunt rocks of zinc and lead 

 stood up as the tombstones of an ill-starred 

 venture. 



I did not stay in Broken Hill long. Tales of 

 great herds of game towards M'Kushi induced 

 me to get together a little " ulendo," or caravan; 

 and three nights after I had stepped off the train 

 I was camped by the M'Lungushi river, watching 

 the smoke from my pipe trail upwards towards 

 the glorious moon. 



Kwamwendo, my hunter boy, soon found game ; 

 and Sing Sing water-buck, Lichtenstein's harte- 

 beeste, and reed-buck fell to my rifle. Here was 



