378 LIFE OF DA VID LIVINGSTONE, LL.D. 



and then settle down again, lifeless and alone. Myriad strings of geese move 

 twice a-day, when the scene-shifting must be done — that is, when sun rises 

 and sun sets — but they do it as noiselessly as they can. Troops of pelicans 

 pass here and there, quartering the heavens into long lines with the geese, but 

 no noise comes from them — they never move again when once they alight 

 unless disturbed, for all and everything must help to keep all still." 



The fish-hawk of these regions attracts the attention and admiration of 

 all travellers. Dr. Livingstone perpetually alludes to it in his writings. Mr. 

 Young speaks of it as the presiding genius of the water-courses. " It is im- 

 possible," he says, " ever to forget his weird, impressive cry as he flies on and 

 on ahead. . . Nothing catches the eye so quickly as his large, snow- 

 white head and beautiful chocolate-coloured wings, which at their full expanse 

 measure between six and seven feet. He may be seen soaring over the water, 

 now throwing back his head to give his wild laugh, which rings from rock to 

 rock, and anon dashing down into the water to seize a fish. When this is 

 secured with his talons, he either flies off with it to a sand-bank, or if, as 

 sometimes happens, it becomes a question of mere strength which shall con- 

 quer, he will consent to be dragged along the surface till he can at last make 

 sail again, and lead his tired captive to a shoal place." 



On the Shire Mr. Young met with a singular superstition. On the 

 extreme peak of the Kolubvi hills a woman is incarcerated in a hut, and the 

 natives resort to her to listen to her ravings, which they believe to have a 

 divine origin. The original occupant of the hut was the wife of a distinguished 

 Manganja chief, who was supposed by his followers to be a spirit. After his 

 death he spoke to them through a prophetess, who is constantly being re- 

 newed, as the solitary vigil on the hill-top generally renders the post vacant 

 every year or two. As any female member of the tribe is eligible for the 

 office of "prophetess," great is the consternation "when it is known that 

 ' Zarima's ' life has fled from the hill-top." 



Near the junction of the Ruo and the Shire, and close by the last scene 

 in the life of Bishop Mackenzie, the party encountered a large body of natives, 

 who loudly expressed their delight at once more meeting with the "English." 

 "Nearing Chibisa's, every yard renewed old recollections, and a little further 

 on we encountered a well-known face — there stood one of our old comrades, 

 the Makololo 1 • The news spread from village to village like wildfire : ' The 

 English ! the English ! ' " 



" We found a very large population where we had left a scanty one. 

 The whole place was in an uproar. Crowd after crowd came to the bank 

 of the river, and the shouting, dancing, and clapping of hands, told its own 

 tale. It was a welcome although a deeply thoughtful moment. What had 

 been done — what might still be done with such good feeling as a ground- 

 work ? Arrived at Chibisa's it seemed as if all the surrounding country had 



