Drawing his blanket more closely round him, he became motionless as
before, his sombre eyes fixed on the gloomy depths and his ears alert,
while she, feeling a little comforted by the presence of this watchful
figure, turned her white face to the brilliant stars.
In the cave Webster was recovering his strength in a profound sleep,
while behind him the lean Gaika, stretched at length in the narrow
tunnel, kept doggedly on guard, his position being the safest but the
most trying, from the cramped surroundings and intense gloom.
The post of danger, however, was on the eye, where Hume sat barring the
only possible way of approach to the unknown enemy who had struck down
Webster. Fully two thousand feet below him was the wide valley, hidden
now by the blackness of night, and showing its depth only by one tiny
point of red where a fire blazed in some kraal. To him there rose soft
sounds, the lowing of cattle, the cry of wild animals, a song of
natives, intermingled, and subdued by distance. There was a sense of
companionship in the sounds, showing as they did the presence of living
creatures near that lonely height; but they did not appeal to his stern
nature. He sat with a grim purpose, his rifle cocked, his ears bent to
detect some other noise, and his mind fixed only on the one purpose of
defending his position. In this mysterious being, who had dogged their
footsteps, whose every visit had put them to a severe trial, he knew he
had to deal with someone not only possessed of extraordinary cunning,
but who had a secret knowledge of his name and his mission. He would
not sound the dangerous depth of speculation about the identity of the
unknown, but sat on, determined and watchful.
So they continued at their several posts well into the night until the
wind rose, poured into the ravine, and as on the previous night, went
moaning into the ear of the cave, and through the narrow tunnel.
Hume stirred in his seat, and placed his finger on the trigger. The
moment, he thought, had come. Then the faint crack of a rifle broke on
his ear, followed by a confused murmur of voices, and almost at his
feet, though far down, a circle of fires pierced the darkness with their
red points. The fires were evidently on the deserted right side of the
valley, and, as he judged, in the neighbourhood of the ruins.
Bringing the rifle to his shoulder, and with his elbow resting on his
knee, he idly sighted at one of these gleaming points. While his finger
played with a come-and-go touch in the curve of the trigger, his nerves
suddenly tightened at a slight sound. It was a sound made by a man
expanding his nostrils, the noise he had heard at the reeds--and slowly
bringing the muzzle round, he fired into the night. There was the vivid
flash, the crashing report suddenly breaking the silence, and a startled
cry from his rear, where Laura still sat dreaming near the still figure
of the chief.
Then a deeper silence than before, save that the wind wailed down the
ravine; and Hume, softly rising to his feet, slipped in another
cartridge.
In a moment Sirayo was by his side, having come without a sound, and the
two stood intently listening, without a whisper even of what had
occurred.
"Are you safe? Oh! what is it?" It was Laura's frightened voice
hailing.
Sirayo clicked with his tongue at the interruption, and Hume half turned
his head.
"Frank," she cried again, nearer at hand. "Frank; oh, how dark!"
Hume thought of the narrow ledge, of the fearful precipice, of the
danger of one false step in the dark, and cried out:
"Stand where you are. I am coming."
Immediately the darkness below was pierced by lurid flashes, and bullets
smacked against the rock or whistled fiercely overhead.
Hume fired both barrels, and then swung behind the projecting rock which
formed the ear of the face.
"Oh, merciful Lady!" came in a gasp from behind.
"Take her to the cave, chief," said Hume quickly, "and return with the
other gun."
Sirayo slipped away, and Hume, taking a heavy Colt's revolver from his
belt in his left hand, swung himself round and fired along the ledge on
the further face of the mountain. The first shot was swiftly answered,
and as quick as lightning, he emptied the remaining barrels, guided by
the flashes.
Sirayo returned, and Hume explained to him that the enemy must be
advancing along a ledge which sloped away to their right for about one
hundred paces, to disappear around a projecting rock.
"We should hold this place against a hundred. The only danger is lest
two or three should crawl up while their companions fire to attract our
attention."
"It is easy to shoot wide in the dark," muttered Sirayo, "but when a man
gets close enough to thrust an assegai it is different." He felt about
with his naked feet to find the nature of the foothold.
Hume fired again, drawing as before an instant reply, the bullets
singing viciously overhead.
"They fire high," said Hume.
"How wide is the ledge?"
"It will take two men, crawling side by side."
"Soh! Here is a plan. Let one of us get out flat on the ledge. The
other will stand here and fire. Then the other will hear if any advance
on their bellies, and shoot."
"It is good; I will take the ledge."
"Nay, the plan is mine; I will take the ledge, and if the bullet misses,
the assegai will not."
"No, chief; your assegai is good against one or two, but this little gun
holds six lives."
"Go, then," said Sirayo, with a grim chuckle; "but when your little gun
has spoken let me try my assegai."
Hume took off his boots, laid his rifle and cartridge-belt aside, and
then, feeling his way with his hands, he crept out, inch by inch,
several yards, until he was well out on the ledge.
Then he sat close against the wall of rock, with his revolver ready--
waiting. It was a dangerous position, and his life depended on the
keenness of his hearing and steadiness of nerve. Before him were
cunning foes stealthily advancing, and within a yard was the lip of the
sheer precipice.
No sooner had he sat down than Sirayo, standing well out in the eye,
fired, and the bullet, striking the side of the mountain, went humming
into the darkness. A solitary shot replied; then another nearer, and a
third still nearer; and immediately after the third report a shout
rolled out, deep and fierce, thundering taunts.
"Look out!" hissed Sirayo, and fired again.
The shouting increased, and Hume's grasp tightened on his revolver,
while his breathing came quicker. What was that? The sound of metal
touching the rock--just touching it--but the faint tinkle was enough.
There were men crawling up, then! That soft noise--it must be made by
naked men creeping. His arm stiffened--his eyes were riveted--he now
scarcely breathed. Was that a darker shadow before him?--almost within
reach--his finger closed on the trigger. There was a groan--the rattle
of a spear falling--the flash of a gun almost in his face, so that the
burning powder scorched his eyes, and he emptied his remaining barrels
before covering his eyes with his hand. As he did so he heard at his
side the double report as Sirayo, advancing, fired; heard the terrible
Zulu war-cry, the clash of blades, the fierce grunting of men in a death
struggle. But he sat helpless, blinded, in an agony of pain and
apprehension. The sound of the fighting retreated, grew more fitful,
died away, and with trembling fingers he refilled the empty chambers of
his pistol, and waited, with his hand over his throbbing eyeballs. But
the enemy did not come; instead he heard the voice of Sirayo calling:
"Eh, Hu-em--Inkose!"--calling surely in some strangely unfamiliar tone
of fear.
"Hu-em, my friend, do not desert me."
"What is it, chief?"
"Come; I cling to the rock."
"Good God!" cried Hume; "wait," and painfully he groped his blind way
along, grinding his teeth.
"Quick, my friend!" cried the chief hoarsely.
"Yes, yes; oh, God, for one moment's strength!"
"Frank, oh, Frank, where are you?"
He turned his head at the sound. "Laura!" he cried.
"Oh, thank Heaven!"
"Listen," he cried, steadying his voice by a supreme effort. "You will
find a ledge on your right. Keep your right hand, to the rock and come
on quickly, quickly, for God's sake!"
There was a sobbing reply, but he heard her come.
"Where are you?"
"Here; but go on quickly to the chief. He is in danger."
"But you--you are hurt?"
"Go on," he cried fiercely; and he felt the touch of her dress and heard
her voice go out in a quivering cry for Sirayo.
"Inkosikasi," came the faint reply.
She gave a shriek of terror as, guided by the heavy breathing of the
chief, she felt his wrist, and slipping her hand over the straining
muscles of the arm, found that he was hanging from the ledge.
"Your other hand," she said.
"Broken!" he growled. "Woman weak--where Hu-em?"
She stretched herself on the ledge, and, reaching over, grasped the
shoulder-strap from which his bag was suspended.
"No good," he panted; then, in Zulu, he muttered: "It is a far drop, and
every bone will be broken. To die like this. Inkosikasi!"
"Well!" she gasped.
"A gun is near. Find it and shoot! So Sirayo dies! Go--find."
"Hold on--help comes. If you fall you drag me. Frank!"
There was a movement by her side, fingers felt along her outstretched
hands, then closed upon the warrior's wrist in a grasp of iron, and
Hume, shutting his teeth, put forth all his strength.
There was a scramble, a sob, the sound of deep panting breaths, and
Sirayo was saved. Hume, with a cold sweat on his brow, fell back,
almost swooning from the fierce throbbing of his eyes. Laura gave way
to a fit of crying, and Sirayo, crawling along the ledge, lay at full
length, breathing deeply.
If the enemy had come now, not one of them could have lifted a finger in
defence.