AFRICA AND ITS EXPLORATION. 
508 
When grieving for the hapless lives that were lost, he 
consoled me. Bnt now my friendly comforter and true- 
hearted friend was gone ! Ah, had some one but relieved 
me from my cares, and satisfied me that my dark 
followers would see their Zanjian homes again, I would 
that day have gladly ended the struggle, and, crying 
out, “ Who dies earliest dies best,” have embarked in 
my boat and dropped calmly over the cataracts into 
eternity. 
The moon rose high above the southern wall of the 
chasm. Its white funereal light revealed in ghostly 
motion the scene of death to which I owed the sundering 
of a long fellowship and a firm-knit unity. Over the 
great Zinga Fall I sat for hours upon a warm boulder, 
looking up river towards the hateful Massassa, deluding 
myself with the vain hope that by some chance he might 
have escaped out of the dreadful whirlpool, picturing 
the horrible scene which an intense and morbid imagi- 
nation called up with such reality, that I half fancied 
that the scene was being enacted, while I was helpless 
to relieve. 
How awful sounded the thunders of the many falls in 
the silent and calm night ! Between distant Mowa’s 
torrent-rush, down to Ingulufi below, the Massesse, 
Massassa, and Zinga filled the walled channel with their 
fury, while the latter, only thirty yards from me, hissed 
and tore along with restless plunge and gurgle, and 
roaring plunged, glistering white, into a sea of billows. 
Alas ! alas ! we never saw Frank more. Vain was 
the hope that by some miracle he might have escaped, 
for eight days afterwards a native arrived at Zinga from 
Kilanga, with the statement that a fisherman, while 
skimming Kilanga basin for whitebait, had been attracted 
by something gleaming on the water, and, paddling his 
canoe towards it, had been horrified to find it to be the 
upturned face of a white man. 
