"NO QUARTER."
Hardly had our friends perfected the details of their scheme for
surprising the slavers, than darkness rushed upon them like a tangible
thing. All, however, were much too excited to sleep, and, as soon as
the rising moon gave sufficient light, the whole party removed itself
beyond the steep crest of the northern hill, and impatiently awaited
developments, or, as the Zulus have it, "fought the fight of sit down."
It had been agreed amongst them, that the slavers were to have a clear
hour allowed them from the time of entering the pass, to permit of their
settling down quietly for the night, and this hour would of course, be
employed to advantage by the men in charge of the "water department,"
whilst the defenders of the hill had of necessity to take their cue from
the movements of the enemy as occasion might arise.
For once in a way, matters fell out even better than the most sanguine
had dared to hope. The slavers trooped quietly in, the dogs failing to
show the slightest sign of uneasiness, and as soon as the slaves had
been watered at the spring, the wretched creatures, to the number of
about three hundred, all carefully manacled, were mercilessly driven on
towards Equatoria, guarded by half a score of heavily-armed and
powerful-looking ruffians, whilst Zero and the rest of his following
encamped for the night beside the spring, taking no precautions whatever
against surprise, and obviously considering themselves perfectly safe in
their own happy hunting-grounds, relying, no doubt, upon the dogs to
give them timely notice of any hostile approach. Nothing could have
been better than this arrangement; for had the miserable slaves been
detained in the hollow of the pass, it would have caused our friends
very considerable difficulty to separate the poor unoffending creatures,
from their sworn vengeance upon Zero and his host of scoundrels, whereas
now, every shot would have a definite and decided aim.
After the dismal procession had filed out of sight, the time hung very
heavily on the hands of the anxious watchers on the hill, and none
seemed to feel it more keenly than did Leigh. He fidgeted first with
his rifle, and then with his revolvers, until Grenville and Kenyon made
sure that one or other of the weapons would explode, and prematurely
unmask the whole affair, when matters would in all likelihood get
uncomfortably warm for their little party.
Leigh was possessed of but one desire, and that was to get sight of
Zero, when none who watched his face as Grenville did, could doubt that
there would be bloodshed.
Slowly an hour dragged out its weary length. Below all was still as
death, the slavers were fast asleep round their fire, and as a gentle
zephyr was breezing in from the south, there was no scent to disturb the
repose of the great dogs, who seemed to appreciate the warmth of the
fire, equally with their tired masters.
All at once the death-like silence was rent by a thundering explosion,
which seemed to fairly shake the mighty fabric of the mountain, and to
rend the very vault of heaven itself, whilst in the twinkling of an eye,
every man amongst the slavers was on his feet, gun in hand, and gazing
inquiringly at his nearest comrade.
Hardly had the Titanic echoes ceased to answer one another amongst the
mountain fastnesses, than a wild cry went up from the wretched men
beside the spring, as they saw the angry river come foaming and dancing
towards them--a frothing, bubbling sea of glancing foam--as it flew
along down the narrow pass under the weird rays of the ivory moonlight.
But a single look the slavers gave; then, turning as one man, the whole
band rushed blindly for the hill, but scarcely had they commenced to
climb, when the crown of the ascent seemed to fairly open before their
astonished eyes in a glancing sheet of flame, as Grenville gave the
word, and two score angry rifles poured their deadly contents into the
surging mob of humanity but fifty yards below, whilst a chorus of
shrieks and imprecations went up to heaven, and men rolled over in every
direction, dead and dying, thus testifying to the fatal results of the
discharge.
The slavers paused aghast; but, with a wild, deep-throated bay, the
noble hounds sprang forward, undaunted by the presence of the foe--
useless bravery, for Grenville kept his word: the moonlight was good
enough to shoot by, and three shots from his Winchester accounted for
the three great dogs in much less time than it takes to tell.
Meantime the water was rushing forward like a living thing, and the
slavers, forced onwards by it, dashed up the hill in a positive frenzy
of fear, paying no attention to their leader, who vainly shouted to them
to keep their heads, as the water would take some time to rise the
height of the steep ascent. On they came in spite of another blinding
discharge, which absolutely singed their faces and thinned their ranks
by quite one-half, and then, hand to hand, the combatants met with a
mighty roar. Hither and thither swung the fight in all its ghastly
details, the crash of the axes, and the rapid detonations of the
revolver-pistols, almost drowning the war-cries of the Zulus as they
wreaked their righteous vengeance upon their late tormentors. Soon,
however, friend and foe were so closely blent together that even
Grenville--who kept out of a scrimmage in which he was yet too weak to
take his accustomed part--found it extremely difficult work to get in a
single shot without danger to his own people.
The Slaver-Chief was unquestionably a brave man, and in his fighting cry
there was inspiration for his band; but what could he do when three such
men as Leigh, Kenyon, and Amaxosa would, if they could help it, fight
neither with small nor great but with himself only; whilst Grenville,
meantime, watched, lynx-eyed, for a chance of putting a bullet through
him?
Four times did this determined trio charge the slavers, axe in hand, and
Zero himself at last fell upon a heap of his companions, whose living
bodies had lately been his only rampart against these vindictive and
invincible foes.
Upon the fall of the Slaver-Chief a mighty shout went up from the little
band of friends, and the few remaining slavers immediately threw down
their arms and begged for mercy. Mercy! Fools! What could they
expect? _A Zulu shows no mercy to a beaten foe_, and if beaten himself
he asks none. Moreover, the foe in this case richly deserved all he
got, for he had been guilty of every species of senseless and abominable
cruelty under heaven, and merited to the full a far more dreadfully
retributive justice than the sudden and almost painless death which he
received at the hands of his relentless executioners.
So much for one side, now for the other. Four of the white men rescued
from the Mormons by Leigh and Kenyon, were stone dead, as were three
Zanzibaris, who had stayed on the spot in an unaccustomed and ill-fated
excess of valour or curiosity. The remaining white man, a sturdy young
Highlander, named Duncan Ewan, had received a nasty scalp wound, whilst
five of the Zulus were lying about very severely cut up, though all
would recover with careful treatment. Of the three champions, Amaxosa
was the only one who had received any hurt, and that was superficial, a
bullet having grazed and laid open one side of his face. Hastily our
friends shook hands with one another--and with themselves, so to speak--
and then Leigh and Amaxosa, supported by all the available Zulus,
started off at speed upon the trail of the departed slave-gang, leaving
Grenville and Kenyon (together with the frightened Zanzibaris, who were
cautiously returning by twos and threes from the four winds of heaven,
whither they had fled when the first shot was fired) to get the wounded
into a place of safety; for the water was still rapidly rising, and once
over the crest of the hill, it would simply sweep the whole plain
towards the north, unless something could be done to stop its wild
career. Quickly getting the wounded men out of the pass, and some
little way up the mountain side, Grenville and Kenyon next made a
careful examination of the old course, of the river beyond the pass, and
found that if they could blow up one mighty piece of rock, the river
would immediately descend through the medium of a waterfall into its own
original bed. The pair, accordingly, returned to the scene of the fight
in order to collect all the gunpowder belonging to the deceased slavers;
but hardly had they reached the spot than Kenyon, to Grenville's utter
astonishment, let out a bitter curse. "Fooled," he cried, "as I'm a
living sinner--fooled again by that cursed fox!" and turning quickly, as
a mocking laugh grated upon their ears, Zero was seen by the pair
standing upon a rock at the northern outlet of the pass, perhaps a
hundred yards away, and taking aim at them with his rifle. Grenville's
Winchester went up like a flash, and the two reports blended into one.
The slaver's bullet whistled harmlessly past their ears, and at the same
instant he was seen to drop his gun, and clap his hand upon his left
shoulder, and then, shaking his fist angrily at Grenville, he hurled a
vile curse at the two friends, and, springing down from the rock, was at
once lost to view amidst the gloomy shadows of the mountain.
Whilst Grenville collected the powder, Kenyon promptly set out in
pursuit of the slaver, but could find no trace of his whereabouts. The
fellow's claws were, however, cut for the nonce, as there was blood upon
the rock where he had been standing, and his rifle was still lying
there, the hammer having been cut clean away by Grenville's bullet. So
that wounded, unarmed, and unsupported, it was a shrewd count that they
would easily get him when daylight came, and get him they must, for he
clearly was a dangerous, as well as a very slippery, villain.
Our friends soon succeeded in blowing up the rock, and preparing a new
outlet for the water, and this was not accomplished any too soon, as by
the time they had collected the arms, which were everywhere strewed
about the confined field of battle, the water was already lapping gently
against the upper edges of the steep ascent, and in another ten minutes
it was racing down the track, and shooting clear over the beetling wall
of rock, thus returning to its own natural bed in the shape of a
magnificent waterfall, whose enormous volume, as it fell, waked a mighty
echo, which would henceforward cause a perpetual and thundering murmur
amongst the rocky glens of the mountains, as if nature were herself
complaining of this irremediable mischief, wrought by the puny hand of
careless and unthinking man.
Hardly had Grenville and Kenyon regained the mountain side, than the
report of firearms was heard away across the veldt, and the quick
flashes of Leigh's repeating-rifle could be distinctly seen. In a few
short minutes all was again as quiet as death, and the twain looked
anxiously at one another, yearning to know with whom the victory rested,
when all at once, through the still night air, and right across the
rolling veldt was wafted the wild war-cry of the children of the Undi,
proclaiming the successful accomplishment of another act of retribution,
and the absolutely triumphant success of Amaxosa's daring scheme for the
destruction of the foe--a success which was marred only by the single
detail of the temporary escape from their vengeance, of the Slaver-Chief
himself.
Grenville and Kenyon next lighted a large fire to apprise the detachment
out upon the veldt, of the exact position of the party upon the mountain
side; and this having been done, Kenyon, who never travelled without a
complete surgeon's "kit," proceeded to attend to the injuries of the
wounded men, and soon had the poor fellows as comfortable as
circumstances permitted.
Shortly after this, the Zulu, Umbulanzi, in charge of the "water
department," and to whom belonged no small share of the credit of this
successful affair, made his appearance, accompanied by all but two of
the Zanzibaris, who, under his direction, had acted in the capacity of
sappers.
It seemed that Amaxosa had fortunately foreseen the possibility of this
detachment hitting upon a bed of rock, and thus having their work
stopped, and the whole scheme completely ruined, and he had, therefore,
supplied his _confrere_ with a 56 pound keg of powder out of Leigh's
ample stores, and finding that a great slab of broken ironstone rock was
spoiling his little game, this Zulu had coolly slapped _the whole keg_
under the edge of this obstruction, and blown the entire affair
sky-high, and along with it two of the Zanzibaris, whose unfortunate
curiosity had prevailed over their accustomed discretion.
"Haow Inkoos," he said, speaking rapidly to Grenville in the Zulu
tongue, "it was indeed a very great sight, and never will Umbulanzi see
the like again. The rock shot up to the heavens on high, and with it
went the low black fellows. The great stone came down again, my father;
but, though I waited long for the low fellows, they came not, and as the
cowards must have run away for good, Umbulanzi did not stay."
The moon was waning fast, but the stars still held the curtains of night
over the wide-stretched whispering veldt, when the victorious party of
Amaxosa, accompanied by the slave-gang, was heard approaching from the
north, and upon their arrival it was found that the little band had not
suffered further in any way, having satisfactorily "rushed" the
remaining slavers, and disposed of them every one.
The anger of Leigh and Amaxosa, however, knew no bounds when the cunning
escape of the arch-enemy was made known to them, and both bitterly
repented that they had not made sure of the fox by knocking him on the
head, and registered a solemn vow to commit no further mistakes of the
kind, should Zero fall into their hands again. Clearly, however,
nothing could be done until dawn of day, and it was decided, therefore,
to let the rescued slaves sleep in their irons, and to wait for
daylight, in order that their captors might gain some little insight
into the character of their new charges. So, having set a watch of
Zanzibaris, overlooked by Grenville himself, the tired army laid itself
down, and was soon fast asleep, whilst the rescued slaves, who had been
told the good news that they would be liberated in the morning,
chattered to one another throughout the livelong night, like a troop of
monkeys in the forest. With the first gleam of daylight, Leigh and
Amaxosa were afoot, and without even staying to dispatch a mouthful of
food, threw themselves upon the bloodstained trail of the Slaver-Chief,
and were almost instantly lost to sight amongst the dense fog-banks
which overhung the surrounding veldt in every direction.