Some minutes they remained helpless in that perilous position, then
Laura aroused, but at the deep silence--significant of, perhaps, more
disaster--she cried out, frightened.
Hume muttered some inarticulate reply.
"Oh, let us get away from here," she said, almost in a whisper. "The
precipice so near seems to draw me to it, and in every breath of wind I
hear a stealthy footstep."
"Yes, let us go," he said in a low voice, trying to keep his agony from
her knowledge. "Keep your left hand against the rock, and tread firmly.
Sirayo!"
"My strength has returned," answered the chief, though he still breathed
heavily. "Pass by, and I will follow," and there was a movement as he
edged to the brink of the krantz.
"I will go first," said Hume; "follow me closely, Laura;" and setting
his teeth so that no groan should escape, he groped his way along. She
came fearfully behind, catching her breath now and again, and Sirayo
followed.
Now that the excitement, which had supported them before, had died away,
the return along that giddy height, with no other guide than the sense
of touch, was full of terrors, and these increased in the slow and
hesitating advance. If she had known that the one who led was blind,
that at times he almost reeled through pain, she must inevitably have
broken down; but Hume forced himself to the task with a desperate
resolve.
At last he felt the ridge made by the eye, and climbing up, helped her
to ascend, then asked her if she could go on to the cave; then, as she
went on, he sat with his head bowed on his hands.
"What is it, friend?" asked Sirayo, as he, in his turn, reached the
place.
"I am blind, chief, blind!" was the bitter reply.
"Yoh!" and, overcome by the terrible nature of the injury the Zulu
remained dumb.
"Say nothing to her, for it will soon be morning, and she must stand in
the eye and watch. Bind this handkerchief about my eyes."
"I cannot--my arm is broken; but I will send Klaas with water. It is
bad--this thing that has happened. It would have been better had you
let me go out on the ledge."
"And your arm is broken," muttered Hume. "We owe our lives to her, and
the mountain is slipping away."
Sirayo caught him, and laid him in a corner of the rock, then went down
rapidly to the cave, where he called to Klaas.
"Where is he?" asked Laura.
"He is tired; moreover, he says the morning is near at hand, when you
will stand in the place above."
"To see the Golden Rock," she murmured. "At last; but at what cost of
suffering!"
"What do you say about the rock?" asked Webster, sitting up suddenly.
"Are you better?" she asked gently.
"Ay, except that my head feels strangely light. Where is Hume?"
"He has been watching through the night, and is still out on the ledge."
"Good fellow. I will take his watch when I am well." And with a sigh
he sank back on to the couch to sleep again.
A faint smile hovered about her lips, then she bound Sirayo's damaged
arm, and at last, drawing her blanket over her, she sank into a profound
slumber.
On the rock above, Klaas put a bandage round his master's injured eyes,
gave him water, and made a pillow for his head. Sirayo went out on the
ledge again to keep watch, bearing his injury with stoic indifference,
and grimly bent on doing his duty.
"Sit with your face to the sunrise, Klaas," whispered Hume, "and when
you see the sky turn red bring your mistress here."
"Eweh, my master."
So they sat in the darkness and silence deep and brooding.
"Do you sleep, Klaas?"
"Neh, sieur."
"I feel the touch of the morning wind."
"The stars are white, all but one that shines red."
"The morning star. The sun will soon be up. Are the clouds rising, do
you think?"
"The sky shines like the eye of a pool when the moon looks on it."
"And the mist; look below."
"It is black below, sieur."
The minutes went slowly by.
"It must be time," he muttered. "What noise is that?"
"Birds flying over. They smell the morning; and the buck will now take
his stand at the edge of the kloof, to catch the first warmth of the
sun. Ayi; the red line spreads along the sky."
"Call your mistress!" Hume cried. "The moment is at hand!" he
murmured; "and I--I will not see this wonder."
Presently she came and stood by him.
"I am here, Frank."
"Stand in the opening above, with your face to the west, and look below
to your right. At the first ray of the sun you should see the light on
the Golden Rock."
"Am I to stand there alone," she said, "at this moment we have looked
forward to so intently?"
"Where is Webster?" he asked impatiently.
"He is still weak and asleep. And you, Frank--I can see you have been
wounded."
"For Heaven's sake!" he said, almost fiercely, "take your stand there.
I am all right, but knocked up."
She sighed, and stepped into the embrasure, and stood there waiting,
with an oppression at her heart that robbed the moment of all its
expected joy. The two natives sat near, calm and unmoved, perhaps
marvelling at the strange ways of these restless white people.
"What do you see?" asked Hume anxiously, to make her talk, so that she
should not hear him moan with the pain he suffered.
"I see the rocks on my right, the outlines of the mountains beyond, a
tremulous light around, but below it is jet black. No--there is a faint
luminous track winding through the blackness."
"That is the layer of mist over the river."
"There is a glow on the summits of the distant mountains; and, oh! above
me, on the rocks, there is the reflection as from fire. It is the
sunlight streaming, and it stretches out, fan-shaped, pouring its
radiance down into the darkness in countless quivering threads of
silver."
"Follow that gleam," he cried; "don't let your gaze wander."
"It is shivered by a projecting rock on the mountain side," she
continued; "but the centre broadens out and flows on deeper and deeper,
the darkness flying before it, and now there is a lake lying far below;
no, it is land, I think--rolling prairie, and oh!"
"What--what?"
"Come and look at this--a gleaming spot far off, that glows like the
heart of a furnace. Give me your hand."
"No; I am tired. Laura, that is the rock; look well at it."
"Is that the rock? it glows, it flashes back the light. There is a pale
radiance that quivers above and around, and a wide belt of purple about
its base--a belt of colour that widens, contracts, and coils upon
itself. Purple--no, it is not purple; it is like a band of opal; now
'tis red, blood-red," and her voice sank to an awed whisper, "and the
yellow flame above shines wonderfully."
"Mawoh," muttered Klaas.
"Well, what now?"
"It is gone--faded!" And she stood looking below her with wide-opened
eyes and parted lips, and a glow of colour in her cheeks. "Frank, it
was such a sight I saw when we were on the mid-Atlantic."
"And has it repaid you for all you have suffered?" he asked.
"Repaid me; it was beautiful! But it has not repaid me, and will not
till I stand beside the rock itself."
"That cannot be," he said in low tones.
"And why?" she asked, still looking away.
"Webster is ill."
"He is rapidly recovering, I am sure; and the news that we have seen the
Golden Rock will restore him."
"Then Sirayo is wounded."
"His arm is bruised, not broken; and then we have you."
"But," he said, "I am blind!" and the long restraint he had put upon
himself giving way, he flung his hands out before him with a groan of
bitter disappointment.
"Blind!" she murmured, "blind!" and sinking beside him, she caught his
hands in a convulsive grasp, and looked into his drawn and bandaged
face. "Oh, Frank! why did not you tell me of this before? How did it
happen? But never mind now; let me lead you to the cave. Blind! and
out on that fearful ledge."
"Yes," he said, with a ghastly smile; "lead me to the hospital."
"Hullo!" shouted Webster, as they approached the opening, "I thought you
had left me, cast me adrift without compass or food, and I have a most
extravagant appetite. Don't look so downcast; I assure you I am quite
well. Why, what is it?"
"You see, I am crippled, Jim, disabled, helpless, worse than useless."
"Lad, I don't believe it;" and rising, Webster stepped to Hume's side,
took his hand, then, as he caught the signs of suffering, he gently
pressed him to the couch, while Laura leant against the rock with her
hands before her face, her courage gone at last.
"Hurt, while I have been lying here like a log. Well, it is my turn to
help now. Let us look at it." Gently he drew away the roughly-tied
bandage, and caught his breath at what he saw. He looked quickly over
his shoulder. "Laura, tell Klaas to get some water." She went out
slowly, and he examined the injury. The upper part of Hume's face was
blackened, the eyelashes and eyebrows burnt off, the eyelids glued to
the cheeks. "Poor lad!" he muttered. "She must not see this."
"Is it so bad; will I ever see again, Jim?"
"Ay, man, that you will! I have seen a worse case mend within a week
with the proper treatment. Laura, you look worn--lie down and rest.
This is my case. Klaas, bring water and some clean damp moss."
Klaas quickly returned, and Webster began, with a gentle touch, to
moisten the eyelids.
Hume caught him by the wrists.
"Leave me alone--it's torture."
"Good--the powder has pierced the lids, and what you feel is the grit on
the eyeballs," and he went on sponging. "The upper part of your face is
a colourable imitation of Klaas's."
"Jim, don't be so cruel."
"Oblige me by going to sleep, young lady. Now for the damp moss," and,
picking out all the coarse stuff, he placed a portion over each eye, and
tied the bandage. "Now, take this brandy, and keep quiet." Then, in
singular contradiction to his own words, he burst out: "How the devil
did this happen?"
An hour after he sponged the eyes again, and continued at lesser
intervals throughout the morning, heedless of his patient's terrible
sufferings.
"I'll tell you what," he said, as though with a sudden inspiration,
"we'll get back to the river, and drift down to the coast on a raft; the
rest will do us all good."
"Yes," she said; "let us go quickly; I have lost all desire to see the
rock."
Sirayo's form darkened the opening.
"What!" almost shouted Webster, "are you wounded, too?"
"The people are moving down below," said the chief; "the same we fought,
and there are others gathering beyond the river. I think they will
fight."
"Which way do the Zulus move?" asked Hume, sitting up.
"Away towards the shining place from the spot where we saw the fires
burn last night."
"Are there many of the other people?"
"Ay, they outnumber the Zulus, but they are not eager for the fight.
Maybe they have already been attacked."
"We will descend, then!"
"Descend!" asked Laura, bewildered.
"Yes; don't you see," he continued quickly, though his lips trembled at
the pain, "this is our chance? If there is to be a fight our help may
decide the day, and instead of being opposed by the people of the
valley, they would assist us in return for our support. Don't you see
that, Jim?"
"No, I don't. I know nothing of the people of the valley, and it will
be folly now to continue."
"You must not," cried Laura; "you are not fit to face fresh dangers."
"I have brought you thus far," he replied doggedly, "now you must take
me down. I swear if you do not I will not budge from here. Let us pack
up and go while there is still light, for the day must be far advanced."
In vain they tried to persuade him, but opposition only made him the
more stubborn, and after noon they began the long and perilous descent.
Klaas, as being the most active, went ahead; Sirayo followed, then
Laura, Hume, and Webster, with rheims connecting them. Of necessity
their advance was slow, but after they had passed over the scene of the
night's conflicts, with its stains of blood, and rounded the projecting
rock, they struck the top of a ravine, down which the way was safer,
though more difficult to traverse because of the loose shale. From the
ledge they saw a body of Zulus marching on one side of the valley, while
beyond the river a larger body was massed inside a wide military kraal.
After many a rest they arrived safely near the bottom, and, waiting
until Klaas, who had been sent on to scout, returned with a favourable
report, they reached the valley near sunset.