Chapter XII

Main features of the Falls--The return commenced--Frank
Oates attacked by fever--Course of the illness; improvement
and relapse--His death--Dr. Bradshaw takes his effects to
Bamangwato--His favourite dog--Arrival of W. Oates and Mr.
Gilchrist in Natal--Conclusion.

It is to be regretted that, from the time of his reaching the Zambesi till the date of his death five weeks afterwards, the entries in Frank Oates’s Journal are of the scantiest description. Indeed, the whole time that he was actually at the Falls he made no entries in it whatever. This may have been partly owing to the depressing condition of the atmosphere near the river at that time, which would make any exertion--even that of writing--burthensome; and partly from his relying on his memory for a faithful recollection of a scene at once so novel and so impressive. “After breakfast,” he writes on New Year’s Day, 1875, “I visited the Falls--a day never to be forgotten.” This is the sole entry in his Journal till the 14th of the month, when he was again back at the Pantamatenka.

And what gives especial cause for regret at the absence of any further entries in his Journal of this period is the fact that all the accounts of the Falls yet published have been given by those who visited the river in the dry season of the year. Of this number Edward Mohr may have suffered least from this disadvantage, for he was there in June 1870. Baines and Chapman were there together during parts of the months of July and August 1862; Livingstone was there, his first visit, in November 1855, his second in August 1860; and Baldwin, at the time of Livingstone’s second visit. On both occasions when Livingstone was at the Falls, the river, he remarks, was very low; and Chapman mentions that, when he and Baines were there, the water had recently fallen as much as seven feet. It remained for Frank Oates to visit the river at its fullest; at the very height, in fact, of the rainy season; but, unhappily, we are left without any results of his experience, except in the shape of a few pencil and two water-colour drawings he made upon the spot. The two latter have been selected for representation in this volume--one of them coloured, the other in the form of a woodcut. Before offering any explanation regarding these, it may be well to recall to the memory of the reader the main features of the Falls, as described by previous writers.

The river for some distance--at least two miles--above the Falls is of great width, and, flowing between hills some three or four hundred feet in height, presents to the eye a smooth open surface, dotted over by a number of picturesque, tree-covered islands. Where the Falls occur the river is upwards of a mile in width, and the Falls extend the whole of this distance, their line broken at intervals by dark projecting buttresses of rock, forming, some of them, small islands with trees upon their tops; whilst others, of much less size, present merely a bare and jagged surface. The Falls are occasioned by what appears to have been a rift in the original bed of the river--a rending asunder of the rock in the river-bed, over the edge of which the whole waters of the Zambesi are poured down into a deep, narrow gorge below, its width varying from something like eighty to a hundred yards. The water escapes from this deep abyss, where it boils and foams tumultuously after its descent, by a still narrower channel of from twenty to thirty yards in width, and apparently about the same depth as the fissure into which the water falls, the waters of the river being thus suddenly compressed into this narrow limit immediately after flowing through a bed upwards of a mile in breadth just above the Falls. The river after this proceeds by a zigzag course from east to west for about five miles, through a continuation of this narrow cutting, before it finally flows away in a more direct line eastwards. This outlet, Livingstone informs us,[60] is about 1170 yards from the western and 600 from the eastern end of the abyss, the river at the Falls flowing nearly due north and south, whilst the fissure which receives the water lies nearly east and west. At this point the rushing waters from either side unite after they have fallen. “The stream ...,” writes Chapman, in his account of the Falls, referring to this portion of the river,[61] “which here slackens its speed before the entrance, steals slowly round, at the solemn pace of a funeral procession, before it escapes from its confinement between the massive columns of rock.” The water here is of “that sombre green,” says Baines in his description,[62] “which indicates great depth; the moderate rapid formed in the narrow turn below the entrance rolling in that smooth, glassy swell, almost destitute of foam, which seems so gentle and proves so overpowering when one tries to stem it.”

It is the view from this point--“one of the prettiest and most comprehensive” that can be obtained of the Falls, says Chapman--that is represented in the preceding woodcut; in the foreground are seen the gliding waters flowing through the escape-channel, the spray of the falling cataract rising up beyond; whilst on the horizon, above that section of the Falls which is visible from here, extends the distant outline of one of the river’s banks. “This point,” writes Baines, “is the only spot, with the exception of the west end in calm weather, that is free enough from spray to allow the use of water-colours.”

And this brings us to our second illustration of the Falls, the coloured one, which is taken from the other point here mentioned--the west end of the cataract. In this picture is represented the first portion of the Falls, at the western extremity of the abyss, where the flow of the water over the edge is more broken than it is in many places further on (in at least one of which it continues, says Chapman, with “very little interruption” for a distance of a quarter of a mile or more), and apparently before the water in the bottom of the channel has commenced that tumultuous course which it afterwards pursues as it gathers volume further eastward. In the foreground and on the high land to the right is seen some of that brilliant tropical vegetation, the absence of which, except the evergreen part of it, was so regretted by Chapman at the time of his visit. “We see the scenery,” he wrote in July 1862, “at a great disadvantage just now, as this is the time of the ‘sere and yellow leaf.’” In January, when Frank Oates was there, the vegetation of course was at its best. The trees on the right in this picture, though looking little larger than bushes when viewed from this side, rise in reality--again to quote the authority of Chapman, who penetrated their shade--to a majestic height of from eighty to ninety feet, and constitute a dense forest, always moistened by the spray from the Falls.

The remaining most characteristic feature of the Falls represented in this drawing is that of the double rainbow spanning the abyss. The marvellous colouring of these rainbows, which are frequently visible here, has struck all who have beheld them; their “tints,” says Baines, “more beautiful than in England’s clouded climate one can ever dream of.” Whenever the sun falls upon the clouds of spray these rainbows are always present, sometimes two, sometimes three in number, and the brilliancy of their colouring can scarcely be exaggerated. “Rainbows,” writes Chapman in his description of the Falls, the first day he saw them, “so bright, so vivid, are never seen in the skies. The lower one in particular [on this occasion], probably from the contrast with the black-looking rocks below, was _too_ vivid, nay, almost blinding, to look upon, defying imitation by the most skilful artist and all the colours at his command, yet imparting its heavenly tints to every object over which it successively passed.” So marked a characteristic of the spot are these rainbows that it appears, according to Livingstone, the early native name of the Falls was “Chongwe,” signifying the Rainbow, or the Place of the Rainbow; a name, however, which has since given place to others. Frank Oates’s boys spoke of the Falls as Metse-a-tunya, a compound word, signifying “water-sounding;” whilst the name which Livingstone received for them, as used by the Makalolo at the time of both his visits, was not dissimilar, viz., Mosi-oa-tunya, or “smoke-sounding,” from the smoke-like appearance of the columns of spray which rise above the cataract.

(WESTERN EXTREMITY.)]

With regard to the other general features of the Falls not referred to above but little remains to be added. Their actual height, as estimated by Livingstone, is about 360 feet from the top of the precipice to the surface of the water in the abyss; the columns of spray, which are driven upwards by the rush of air from the channel as the water descends into this narrow space, ascending to a height variously estimated by those who have seen them--and no doubt varying with the state of the atmosphere and the volume of water in the river at different times--at from six to eight hundred feet, or something over. It is these vapour clouds which, visible at a distance of upwards of twenty miles, as distinctly observed by Livingstone, mark the position of the Falls long before the traveller approaches them. Frank Oates, as seen in the preceding chapter, distinguished them at a distance of about eighteen miles, and his followers heard the roaring of the water at that distance, though he was not sure of doing so himself. Chapman, after he had left the Falls, heard them, he relates, “at a distance of fifteen miles on an elevated region in the south.”

Comparing the Falls with those of Niagara, Livingstone points out that they are twice the height of the latter; whilst, “in the amount of water, Niagara,” he says, “probably excels, though not during the months when the Zambesi is in flood.” It is unfortunate that no general view of the Falls, except a bird’s-eye one from the high ground some miles distant, can be obtained, owing to the vegetation on the south side of the fissure and the dense clouds of spray rising from the chasm. “But for this,” says Chapman, “the Victoria Falls, presenting one unobstructed view, would not alone have been the most magnificent, but the most stupendous, sight of the kind on the face of the globe.”

* * * * *

And now, resuming our story, the remaining incidents are soon related, the material for its completion being somewhat scanty. From the time of his arrival at the Falls till the date of his return to the Pantamatenka, Frank Oates made, as has been stated, no entries in his Journal. Again at the Pantamatenka, however, on the 13th, he made a few brief notes, remaining there till the 19th of the month, when Mr. Westbeach, now back from the Zambesi, also started southwards, accompanied by Dr. Bradshaw. Two of Frank Oates’s native servants were already by this time ill with fever, taken, no doubt, on the Zambesi, but the rest of the party so far continued well.

On the 25th, however, at the “pan” called Geruah, the beauty of which had struck him on his journey north, Frank Oates himself complained to his companions--for his own waggon and that of Mr. Westbeach were never far apart as they advanced--of slight headache, the usual precursor and accompaniment of African fever. In a couple of days, however, he was better again, so that he even went out hunting. But this apparent improvement unhappily proved delusive, and it soon became evident that he was suffering from an attack of fever. And now he continued for some days, with slight fluctuations, better and worse till the 29th, when his condition became alarming. Throughout his entire journey up country from the Makalakas as far as the Pantamatenka he had been engaged in taking careful observations of the country, and noting the various watering-places along the road, and this he continued to do on his way back, to check his former notes. His regular Journal had been again discontinued on the 22d, but he still made some brief jottings of the route until the 31st of the month, when, such was his condition, even these had also to be abandoned, and he continued very ill till the morning of the 5th of February, when there was a decided change in him for the better.

During the whole of this time Dr. Bradshaw had remained with or near him, and Mr. Westbeach had kindly lent him the services of one of his own boys, who could speak a little English. There was now every reason, so far as the traveller was himself concerned--and had been ever since he first showed signs of illness--for the party to make all speed upon their journey south. Once at Tati he would be in a place of comparative civilization, affording greater comfort for an invalid, and in a far better climate. Travelling is also usually found to be beneficial in most stages of this fever. They were, therefore, all now pushing forward to the Tati with the least possible delay.

On the morning of the 5th of February, as just stated, Frank Oates’s condition was much more favourable, and there may still presumably have been hope of his recovery, when, unfortunately, a point being reached during the day where some of his boys had to be paid off and discharged, the annoyance and excitement contingent on this circumstance--for at such times the boys always manage to be troublesome--brought on a relapse, and towards the afternoon of that day he again got worse. The party, as it chanced, were then in a part of the country where there was no water for the oxen, and were travelling with all haste to reach a place where they could get some; yet so alarming were Frank Oates’s symptoms, that towards evening Dr. Bradshaw, who was with his waggon, was obliged to order a halt. This occurred at a certain point in the journey, a little north of the same Makalaka kraal at which the traveller had already experienced so much trouble. He was now much exhausted, and Dr. Bradshaw got him to take some soup and a little brandy, and then left him for a few minutes to go to the other waggon. He had not been gone, however, many minutes, when Mr. Westbeach’s English-speaking boy, who had been left in charge, hurried after him, begging him to return at once, as a sudden change appeared to be taking place. This Dr. Bradshaw did--but only in time to find his companion sinking. Frank Oates tried to speak, but in so low a whisper that the other unhappily failed to catch his meaning, and a few minutes afterwards--about a quarter of an hour before sunset--the brave spirit sank peacefully to rest.

At this point in the journey it so happened that the ground was very hard and stony, and, even had it been otherwise, there was no spade or other implement at either of the waggons with which a grave could have been made; so, hearing that Piet Jacobs, the Dutchman, was near at hand, having been at a neighbouring kraal that morning buying corn, Dr. Bradshaw sent to him for assistance. Several others of the party were by this time ill with fever, and the man who took this message--John Mackenna--was so reduced that he was scarcely able to sit the horse he rode upon.

Jacobs, in reply, sent back word for the others to come on further, where the ground was less stony, and that he would meantime find a place suitable for the grave. With this suggestion Dr. Bradshaw willingly complied, and, travelling in the night, met Jacobs early the following morning about an hour’s journey at the other side of the kraal. Here the Dutchman, who was familiar with the country, had by this time found a spot well suited for the purpose. This was a disused game-trap, some eight feet in depth, at no great distance from the waggon-road so often traversed by the deceased, and placed by the side of a small stream or river flowing south. And here, in the deep repose of this silent spot, the traveller’s remains were laid in their last resting-place. His was a burial which well became in its simplicity a true lover, like himself, of Nature and her wilds.

This ended, it now devolved on Dr. Bradshaw to convey the waggon and effects of the deceased to Bamangwato, where he left them in charge of the Rev. John Mackenzie, himself returning soon afterwards to the Zambesi district. His attentions to the deceased during the last days of his illness must have materially added to the latter’s comfort, whose friends have reason to be thankful that he chanced thus accidentally to have been thrown into the company of a fellow-countryman at the close of his two years’ wanderings. His interesting collections, moreover, of natural history, a part of which he now had with him, might readily have been dispersed, and his goods plundered, had his death occurred amongst unfriendly natives, with no one at hand to be responsible for their custody; whilst, as it was, all these, with his waggon and outfit, and personal effects, were faithfully delivered by Dr. Bradshaw into the charge of Mr. Mackenzie at Bamangwato, there to await instructions from his relatives in England.[63]

One incident of Dr. Bradshaw’s journey should not be here omitted. It appears that many miles after they had left the grave, one of Frank Oates’s pointers--his favourite “Rail”--was found to be missing, and boys were sent back in search of him. These men sought long and wandered far in vain, till at length in their pursuit they got back even to the grave, and there, patiently watching, they found the devoted creature laid. A little longer, and he must inevitably have fallen a prey to lions or other wild beasts, but now he was taken down with his companion to Bamangwato, whence they were subsequently conveyed to England. And thus it happened that, whilst Frank Oates’s friends at home were rejoicing at the speedy prospect of his return, and wholly unsuspicious of the truth, this faithful dog was watching, the sole mourner, by his grave.[64]

The very day of Frank Oates’s death his brother William--returned from his yachting trip to Spitzbergen--sailed from England for South Africa, to join him, accompanied by Mr. Gilchrist, the gentleman already mentioned in these pages, whom the brothers had met when they first reached Durban two years previously, and had afterwards travelled with in the interior, William Oates having returned with him to England. The day these two sailed from England--about an hour before the vessel left--letters were brought to them on board from Frank Oates, which had only just reached the country, giving a full account of all his plans, and of his wanderings up to the end of the October previous. The two friends reached Durban on the 15th of March, and at once commenced preparations for proceeding up country to meet the returning traveller. Mr. Selous, who had met Frank Oates at Tamasancha, as mentioned in the previous chapter, had now come down from the interior, and reported having seen him early in December, then on his way to the Zambesi and in perfect health. There was indeed just at this time, as it happened, a report at Pietermaritzburg that the traveller had died of fever in the interior, but--as subsequently proved by a comparison of dates--this report had certainly no foundation in the actual fact, and was found on enquiry at the time to be unsupported by any reliable evidence. The preparations already in progress for a speedy start into the interior, to meet him on his way back, were therefore still proceeded with, and waggons, oxen, and all the necessary outfit got ready for the purpose.

Another week and William Oates and his friend would have started on their way northwards, when--on the 1st of April, a fortnight only after their arrival--authentic intelligence reached them of Frank Oates’s death in the interior. The object of proceeding on the journey was now therefore completely changed, and, to enable William Oates to return at once to England and there offer to his bereaved mother such comfort as he might be able, his friend Mr. Gilchrist, in no common spirit of self-sacrifice, himself insisted on taking the sad journey alone into the interior--to bring down thence and convey to England all the deceased’s effects; to hear such particulars as he could of his death, for the satisfaction of his friends at home; and if possible--a service attended with especial difficulties--to visit the grave, and place over it, to mark the spot, a stone prepared for this purpose in Pietermaritzburg.

Gratefully availing himself of this generous offer, William Oates sailed for England on April 22d, having first seen Mr. Gilchrist leave Pietermaritzburg with two waggons, on his way up country; a sort of departure very different from that which either of them had anticipated. The journey undertaken by Mr. Gilchrist--under any circumstances a laborious and trying one enough--was rendered doubly so by the sad object with which he started; nor did he return till every purpose of the journey had been fulfilled. For not only did he bring safely to the coast--and subsequently to England--the large collections of natural history specimens and curiosities, and the notes and journals of his travels which Frank Oates had made, as well as his two pointers, “Rail” and “Rock,” but, in spite of the obstacles opposed to his progress at the Tati, he even proceeded to the spot where the traveller’s remains had been laid, and on his way back succeeded in obtaining an interview on the Ramaqueban River with Dr. Bradshaw, from whom he learnt the few additional particulars of his death which could be supplied, and which have been embodied in the preceding narrative.[65]

For this twofold purpose--of reaching the grave and seeing Dr. Bradshaw--Mr. Gilchrist, on reaching Bamangwato, had gone on thence with both his waggons as far as the Tati settlement, where he arrived on the 18th of July. There he found the same difficulty of proceeding further which Frank Oates himself had often previously encountered, a great fear still prevailing amongst the natives of “red water”--the Natal cattle disease--being brought into their country, and Lobengula having recently sent strict orders to the kraals on the outskirts of his territory to keep all waggons from Natal from attempting to cross their boundaries. Fortunately, however, it happened that the Dutchman, Piet Jacobs, was now at Tati, who had not only selected the spot for the late traveller’s grave, but was also intimately acquainted with the whole of the surrounding district, and who had, besides, a general permission from the king to enter his country when, and as often as, he pleased; for keeping, as he did, his oxen standing at Tati, when he was not out with them in the veldt himself, there was little fear of his introducing the dreaded disease into the country. With him therefore, as guide, Mr. Gilchrist was speedily enabled to make a start northwards; and, on the afternoon of the fifth day from the date of their leaving Tati, came to the point in the waggon-road where they had to leave it, in order to go down to the river’s side to reach the grave. Mr. Gilchrist found it placed about six hundred yards to the left of the road, in a situation of much natural beauty, surrounded by low picturesque hills, and with trees of varied growth and foliage scattered at intervals over the grassy sward. The grave itself, over which a number of large stones had been placed when it was first made, was found quite undisturbed, and amongst these Mr. Gilchrist now inserted at its foot the small white stone, neatly cut, which he had brought from Pietermaritzburg for the purpose, bearing this simple inscription--“Frank Oates, F.R.G.S., of Meanwoodside, Leeds, England; died 5th February 1875, aged 34 years.” Then, the task of friendship faithfully performed, he returned without delay to England.

Nor had this journey, painful in its objects and associations, been entirely free, on Mr. Gilchrist’s part, from privations and anxieties of a graver kind. Water upon the road had many times been scarce (on one occasion he was without any for his oxen--twenty-nine in number--for as much as seventy hours); the season was one of exceptional heat and drought, and the time occupied on the journey was unavoidably considerable.

And here, before concluding, it may be mentioned that at Tati, Bamangwato, or wherever he met those who had become acquainted with Frank Oates in this country, Mr. Gilchrist found but one opinion expressed concerning him. Many were the kindnesses treasured in men’s minds and now related, which he had rendered to those he had encountered in his travels; whilst, on the other hand, he had himself apparently been no less fortunate in the kindly services he had received from others. Friends had arisen where he least expected them, beyond the pale of European civilization, from each of whom he parted in turn with a consciousness of mutual regret. Such was the way in which he drew all hearts towards him; and after his death, the good offices of those who loved or esteemed him in his lifetime were generously placed at the service of his family. Conspicuous amongst this number stood the Rev. John Mackenzie, of Bamangwato, and Mr. F. A. Hathorn, of the Standard Bank, Pietermaritzburg, the former of whom undertook the duties of executor for the arrangement of his affairs in the interior, whilst a like responsibility was accepted by the latter for the settlement of matters in Natal. Nor was it only what these two gentlemen did, but even more the manner of their doing it, which placed the traveller’s relatives under a lasting sense of obligation to them, and served not a little to soothe the first bitterness of their affliction.

And now this brief history of the efforts and too early extinction of a devoted life, otherwise it may be conjectured destined to have rendered no mean service in the extension of scientific knowledge and research, may be concluded with a few words, written soon after his death by Mr. Mackenzie to one of his brothers with reference to the position of his grave. “Lonely the spot, no doubt,” he writes, “is, in a certain sense; but, in another, your brother’s grave is surrounded by all the activities of the great Creator and Father of all. Flowers will blossom around it, though not planted by mortal hand; birds will sing over it, and never weary in repeating the sweet notes which Nature has taught them. I have not been there myself, but I have no doubt the naturalist would not think your brother’s grave a lonely spot; whilst to the Christian such a spot is the quiet resting-place to which the body sank when the spirit was called away by God the Father.”