Soon after dawn the whole party was astir, and the defenders of the cave
were quickly at their several posts, whilst Kenyon and Grenville again
carefully looked over their plan of attack.
Grenville was fortunately able to define the probable site of the
execution, knowing from experience, that the miserable victims done to
death by the infamous Mormon Inquisitors were _either burned alive or
crucified_ upon a small natural hill--a curious smooth-topped,
skull-shaped mound, in fact, perhaps fifty feet in height, and which,
fortunately, stood between the mouth of the old well and the slavers'
town, and was equi-distant from each, perhaps five or six yards. It was
a shrewd count, therefore, that the little rescue-party would be able to
get within easy rifle range before they were discovered by the enemy;
and, as Zero would be certain to carry practically the whole of the
fighting population with him, it was extremely probable that when our
friends unmasked their party, a general stampede for safety on the part
of the slavers would be the immediate result, when it was hoped that the
poor captive woman would be quite forgotten, and, being left behind,
would prove an easy acquisition, and when they once had her in safety,
the hands of our friends would, of course, be perfectly free to act in
the way that might seem best.
At eleven o'clock the leaders of the storming party exchanged a warm
hand-grasp with Leigh and Umbulanzi, and left the cavern by way of the
tunnel, through which we will now follow their fortunes.
The getting of such a relatively large number of men down through this
singular mountain burrow and up beyond the mouth of the well on the
other side of the range, took considerably longer than the detective had
reckoned upon, and the hour was within a very few minutes of noon by the
time that all were safely hidden in the straggling line of bush which
masked their presence, and impinged upon the narrow stretch of veldt
lying between their position and the curious knoll referred to, upon
which, to their horror, our friends could now plainly see a great
upright stake fixed, and around this post were placed bundles of heavy
faggots, packed closely with a resinous, woody fibre, and even while
they looked, the executioner appeared upon the hill, carrying in his
hand a swinging brazier, filled with some burning substance.
Grenville quickly pointed out that the victim was to be faced towards
the town, which was another circumstance in their favour, as the crest
of the knoll would effectually screen their movements from the
preoccupied herd of sightseers beyond.
All hearts beat fast as they saw the poor sufferer led up and bound to
the martyr stake, whilst the mighty, spontaneous shout which went up to
heaven, caused each man's fingers to clinch anxiously upon his weapons,
as it proved to them that the multitude beyond the knoll could be no
inconsiderable one.
The instant that the executioner turned his back upon the well, and
busied himself with the fastening of the poor woman to the stake,
Grenville gave the word, and the whole party as one man shot noiselessly
out of the bush, and commenced a jog-trot across the open space which
separated them from the scene of the execution. When all were within a
hundred yards, the wretched fellow upon the hill turned him round and
saw them; then uttering a wild shout, and hurriedly bending down, he
seized a lighted brand and endeavoured, with trembling hands, to thrust
it in amongst the faggots.
Dropping quickly upon one knee, Grenville raised his rifle, but still
somewhat weak and shaken by the sharp run, for once he missed his man.
Kenyon, however, quickly following, "wiped his eye," knocking the rascal
head-over-heels off the hill.
A great roar of surprise and wonder burst from the mob beyond the knoll,
changed to a shriek of terror and consternation as the fierce Zulus sent
their wild battle-cry echoing across the rolling veldt, and charged
right up the hill, instantly surrounding the poor creature at the stoke,
and killing the Mormon satellites who were clambering up to the spot.
And now ensued a stubborn fight, for Zero had left behind him many more
men than our friends had counted upon, and these, having mostly left
their rifles behind them in the town, charged madly up the little hill,
and furiously engaged the rescue-party hand-to-hand, and for quite five
minutes the cause of all this tumult was utterly forgotten, whilst the
fight swung fiercely to and fro, and the issue hung in doubt. Our
friends certainly had the advantage of position, whilst the slavers, on
the other hand, still stood in the proportion of at least two to one;
but the fiery valour of the active Zulus, nobly backed by the almost
insensate fury of the injured "People of the Stick," would brook no
living check, and presently, led by Amaxosa, they went right through the
slaver crowd, cutting them down on every hand, and driving all that were
left of the wretched men pell-mell into the town, which both bands
entered simultaneously.
Kenyon then bethought him of the prisoner, and, taking Grenville back,
both men turned to ascend the hill, and relieve the poor girl from her
painful and dangerous position. Still as a statue she stood, with her
head drooping forward upon her breast, and for one moment the thought
that some stray shot had struck her crossed painfully the minds of both;
but when they had arrived within twenty yards of her position the girl
heard them, and quickly raised her head, her beautiful face all wet with
tears, and eloquent with voiceless prayers to heaven. Staggering back,
as if struck by a shot, Grenville, to Kenyon's utter astonishment,
dropped his gun, and threw up his hands in a frenzy of terror.
"God in heaven!" he screamed, "Dora, sister Dora! or am I mad, indeed."
Well might poor Grenville think his brain had turned. After all Zero's
wicked boasts of crime, and all his cousin's bitter sorrow for his
long-dead wife, how could he believe that _there before him, in the
flesh, beautiful as when first he saw her in East Utah, stood Dora, Lady
Drelincourt_, dressed in deep black, with a pure white cross upon her
breast, and fastened to a martyr's stake, in the darkest part of darkest
Equatorial Africa?
"Dick!" she cried, "dear Dick Grenville, tell me, does my darling
husband live, or have I lost him, too. Tell me, tell me! I beseech
you, for the love of God."
Pulling himself together, as the music of those well-known accents
reached his ears, Grenville at once ran to the poor girl's side, and
quickly unbound the chain which fixed her to the cruel stake, speaking
meanwhile soothing words of hope and joy, and peace on earth, whilst
Kenyon, hearing that her boy was in the town, went off, like an arrow
from the bow, to make certain of the safety of his friend and patron's
little son.
In every direction, as the detective entered the town, he found blazing
houses, and dead and dying men, but the Atagbondo had behaved
splendidly, and set a lesson to their evil white-skinned foes, in this
respect, that on woman or on child they laid no hand, but every man they
found died by the spear or by "the stick." One ghastly sight, however,
did Kenyon see, for absolutely pinned to a burning house by a Zulu
assegai, which had passed right through her heart, hung the dead
mistress of Zero, the slaver-chief, and the beholder know that the hand
that killed her was the hand of justice--justice on a woman more evil in
her ways than many a wicked man who had that day fallen in fair fight.
Cornered, like rats, and yet more numerous than their fierce opponents,
the slavers fought with all the Courage of despair, but naught availed
them, and soon the only house in Equatoria which remained intact, was
the great public hall, into which the storming party had collected the
entire movable wealth of the slaver fraternity, and from the roof of
which the Saint George's ensign now floated lazily upon the labouring
breeze. Seeing the good old flag, Grenville at once led his rescued
"sister," as it was always his habit to call her, back to the Mormon
town, and the anxious young mother forgot the awful scenes of carnage
and of blood, in the joy of embracing, once more, her loving little
child.
Ordering the men to shoulder everything worth having, and to return to
the upper cave before Zero and his band could arrive, Grenville and
Kenyon prepared to leave Equatoria, accompanied by Lady Drelincourt and
her son, and by the woman of whom mention has previously been made,
together with her child, who was now in better health, whilst the whole
of the Mormon-cum-slaver women and children had scampered away to the
woods, which lay in the rear of the town.
Just now, however, the victorious little band received a very severe
check, for ere they reached the skull-shaped hill, the report of
firearms broke upon their ears, and Grenville suddenly exclaimed, "By
Jove! what can have happened? There goes Alf's repeater. What, in the
name of fortune, is he doing here?"
Dashing up the hill, and leaving the women in shelter on the town side
of it, they came upon a sad sight. Right below their position, Leigh
and about a hundred men only, were sullenly falling back upon the knoll,
fighting every inch of the ground like fiends, but being steadily driven
in, by something like seven times their number of heavily-armed slavers.
As the retreating party got against the hill, the slavers uttered a
shout of triumph, and charging in, drove the little band in every
direction; but little they reckoned upon the thunderbolt which fell upon
them from above. Down from the top of the knoll like a living,
irresistible whirlwind, came the lion-hearted children of the Zulu, led
by their fierce and active chief, and close upon their heels, in a
compact serried mass, followed the ready "People of the Stick," behind
whom Leigh and his gallant little band re-formed and charged the slavers
home.
By this time the rifles were almost silent, only Grenville's piece
occasionally speaking its mind, for he seemed to have eyes for every
combat of a friend, and when the great Zulu had led his men clean
through the heart of the slavers, and had charged madly back again along
a ghastly lane of dead and dying men, the foe drew off a little, and
sought to load his guns.
This would never do, and with a wild earth-shaking shout, Amaxosa again
charged the craven crowd; with him came the staunch war-dogs of the
Zulu, who loved the slaughter as they loved their daring chief, and
scarce a rod behind came Barad "the Hailstorm," his faithful people
following into the very jaws of death the gallant "Chieftain of the
Stick," and ever side by side with the mighty Zulu, there fought Alf
Leigh, scarcely less fierce than his sable friend, and even more
determined; and before the "giant three" the foe fell in every
direction, like corn beneath the sickle.
Suddenly, however, Leigh broke out of the line, and, with a wild cry of
triumph, fiercely engaged Zero himself, hand to hand, and axe to axe.
The slaver-chief was a powerful and an active man, but he was no match
for the colossal Englishman, to whom fury, revenge, and long-nursed
bitter hate, had given a tenfold strength, and in ten seconds Zero lay
wounded and stunned upon the ground.
Then there arose a mighty uproar, the slavers charged madly in upon the
foe, and bore them back a dozen rods, fighting the while like fiends,
and thus succeeded in carrying their wounded chieftain off the field,
then surging in around the little band which was now fighting in square,
the desperate slavers made a tremendous effort to annihilate their
plucky and determined foes. Clubs are poor weapons to keep the face of
a square, and the formation was quickly broken, and, fighting like
lions, our friends were driven backward to the hill, every one of them
fairly drenched with blood, and almost all wounded, whilst their number
now totalled something under a hundred men.
All about lay the slain, singly and in knots and heaps; dead men
everywhere, and everywhere rivers of blood, and the horrid stench of
slaughter.
After a few moments' rest, the slavers charged in with a wild shout,
resolved, at all cost, to wipe out the little band of heroes who held
the skull-shaped hill; and when the surging struggling mass of men had
been lost in a rain of blows, for full ten minutes, all chance of escape
or triumph for our friends seemed gone: but fifty men were left to fight
three hundred.
Grenville and Leigh, Amaxosa and Kenyon, were back to back, their blows
rained straight and sure, and at every blow from each a man went down,
still what could they do against such overwhelming odds as six to one.
Down went the gallant Umbulanzi, with a great spear wound in his back,
and down upon his breathless corpse went his recreant foe, his head
split to the very chin by a vengeful blow from Grenville's ready axe.
All was in vain, yet even as our friends had given up all hope of
escaping from the hideous crowd which surged in upon them like hungry
wolves round a dying buffalo, a clear, cold voice rang out in stentorian
tones across the startled veldt, arresting every hand and every arm.
"Cease," it said; "cease and hold your hands, ye uncircumcised ones,
both white and black, unless ye wish to die." And there upon the knoll,
to the utter horror of our friends, flaunted the dreaded banner of
Mormonism, and round the mingled mass of combatants, and of dead and
dying men, there extended on every hand a mighty triple ring of armed
and hated followers of the False Prophet.
Ringed in by fully a thousand well-armed men, further resistance was
worse than useless. Moreover, Grenville's keen eye quickly noted the
curious fact that, so far from displaying anything like enthusiasm over
the advent of the Mormon host, the slavers seemed considerably more
taken aback by the presence of the new arrivals than even his own party.
The tension of feeling between the three bands was all at once
unintentionally relieved by poor Leigh suddenly noticing Dora on the
crest of the knoll, where the poor girl had been an agonised spectator
of the awful fight, and where her cries, notifying the dreaded Mormon
approach, had been no more audible than the twitterings of a sparrow.
Suddenly noticing her, I say, an expression of positive terror froze
poor Leigh's face, his hair rose up upon his head, and with a fearful
shriek of "Dora, Dora, my long-dead, darling wife!" he threw up his
hands and fell prone upon his face, with the life-blood welling from his
mouth.
Kenyon threw himself upon his knees beside his friend, but in another
instant Dora was holding her lover's head upon her lap, lover and
husband both in one, lost and found; and, after all these cruel years of
weary waiting, must she find her darling but to lose his love for ever?
No! for the good God was full of mercy to the faithful heart that had
trusted Him to the very stake of martyrdom, and her husband soon came
round again, but to relapse into a dangerous attack of brain fever, from
which he escaped only by slow degrees, and it took many weary months and
a world of anxious nursing night and day ere Alfred Leigh regained his
normal strength.
Speaking again, the Mormon leader, a fine-looking old man, with a
snow-white beard, commanded the combatants to lay down their arms and
consider themselves the prisoners of the Holy Three, and this order the
slavers instantly obeyed.