Grenville briefly detailed to the Zulu all they had seen in the canon,
eliciting many wondering comments from him as to the possible utility of
the figure in warfare, after which he gave them an account of his
reconnaissance. Suffice it to say that he had rigidly examined the
adjacent rocks, and found several small fissures which appeared quite
practicable of defence, but had ultimately concluded their present
position to be the best, as they were free to strike out upon the veldt,
without--so far as he could judge--bringing themselves within range of
any likely rifle-posts.
On repassing the stairway, he had heard a subdued murmur of voices, and
guessed that their enemies were consulting over the body of the
sentinel, and had now realised that three men, already accountable for
the deaths of two of their comrades, were by this time at large
somewhere within the jealously-guarded precincts of their own secret
kingdom; and thinking that the sooner he regained his party the better,
Myzukulwa had returned at speed.
The Zulu proposed that their party should hold the canon against all
comers. There was water to be had close by, he said, under cover of
their rifles; they had sufficient dried meat to last them for fully
three days, and in the meantime they could form an opinion of the number
and quality of their enemies. Neither Grenville nor Leigh would,
however, consent to this plan of action, for they argued that if the
stupendous rock which bounded the canon was thin enough to admit of the
hideous facial transparency they had seen, it was also capable of being
pierced with loopholes, and a single marksman thus posted would make the
place untenable by their party. Truth to tell, the unexplained horror
of that diabolical face was strong upon the cousins, and each was
anxious to be gone from its neighbourhood at all risks.
The Zulu continued to urge his view of the case, when his opposition was
very strangely disposed of. The moonlight, which had all this time been
gradually leaving the canon, now crept along the nearer wall, and the
party perceived, to their dismay, a human figure, apparently watching
their movements; an instant more, and the waning light revealed a
gruesome spectacle which fairly froze their blood. The man they had
seen was _dead--recently and ignominiously crucified_; and upon wooden
crosses, ranged at intervals along that awful wall, hung eight or ten
hideous skeletons, their naked bones gleaming white and inexpressibly
ghostly in the silvery moonlight; and on approaching these they found
over each individual horror identically the same inscription--"_By order
of the Holy Three_"--and realised that this was the Golgotha in which
the infamous Mormon Trinity quietly, yet with infinite cruelty, executed
their victims, whether innocent or otherwise. Pausing before one
skeleton, Grenville pronounced it unmistakably that of a young woman,
and Leigh, usually unimpressionable, rapped out a string of oaths, and
vowed to pile a hecatomb of Mormon bodies to her manes.
This revelation sufficed even the Zulu, and after a short consultation
the party ate some food, and then struck out into the unknown, just as
the fading moonlight began to be merged into the ghostly mists of
approaching dawn, which, as they hung over the veldt, would effectually
conceal the movements of the trio from prying eyes.
By common consent the party kept away to the left of the direct line
supposed to lead to the Mormon stronghold as indicated by the single
answering rocket they had seen, and by putting their best foot foremost
trusted before the morning broke to find cover somewhere out of eye-shot
of the stairway, and in this they were successful beyond their fondest
hopes.
Silently the daylight came travelling over the grey and weird expanse of
fog and veldt, lifting the wreaths of mist here and there--only, as it
seemed, to render them by contrast with its own brightness even more
opaque than ever; still our friends knew that at any moment the orb of
day might be expected to rise and completely disperse the fog banks
which afforded them such kindly shelter, and they were feeling
consequently anxious, when the Zulu suddenly exclaimed that there were
trees close by; and so it proved, for in another five minutes the trio
were effectually concealed in a broad belt of bush which appeared to
fringe a forest of considerable extent.
Hardly had our friends gained this welcome cover than they saw the
mountains, now some dozen miles away, appear suddenly through the gauzy
wreaths of vapour; it was as if an angel's hand had withdrawn the
intervening curtain of ghostly mist and revealed the wondrous scene in
all the glowing, flashing splendour of a tropic sunrise. The mighty
spurs of the mountain seemed instinct with life and beauty, as the
clouds lifted and the glorious sunlight ran along their peaks and
glinted upon their scarped sides in changing tints of varied loveliness;
for but one moment was the picture seen, then the cloud fiend again
obtained the upper hand, and only the rolling veldt could be seen both
far and near.
The Zulu was now despatched upon another scouting expedition, and, after
an absence of half an hour, returned with the reassuring news that no
enemy was in sight in any direction. The party then indulged in their
customary frugal breakfast of dried meat and water, into which last--in
consideration of the night's exposure--Grenville introduced a dash of
brandy from their carefully-husbanded store; then after enjoying their
one luxury--a good lazy smoke--the cousins settled down to sleep,
leaving Myzukulwa to keep watch, Grenville relieving him a few hours
later, as the trio had resolved--at all events, until they knew more
about the strange country they were operating in--to confine their
travels strictly to the night-time.
Towards evening Grenville climbed a huge tree in order to obtain a
general idea of their position, but came down without being very much
wiser; and it was finally determined to keep along the edge of the
veldt, utilising the shadow of the forest, so far as possible, as a
defence against prying eyes.
This programme was carefully adhered to, and when daylight came again
without further misadventure, it was a satisfaction to feel that they
had at all events placed another twenty miles between themselves and the
ghostly canon which Leigh had christened "Execution Dock."
On this morning all felt cold and tired, and would have given much for a
warm breakfast; but it was thought altogether inexpedient to light a
fire as yet.
After their usual sleep Grenville again ascended a tree, and came
quickly down with the news that smoke was rising from the bush a few
hundred yards off, and that he thought he could smell tobacco. Each man
immediately seized his weapons, and in a trice the little party was
gliding stealthily forward in the direction indicated by Grenville.
Just as Myzukulwa, who formed the advance guard, was about to enter a
small clearing in the forest, he was arrested by the sound of a human
voice. The tones were low and growling, but the speaker was still too
far off for them to hear his words, and at a sign from the Zulu the trio
were soon stealing snake-like through the bush, eager to see what was
going on.
A curious scene now presented itself. In the very centre of an open
space some fifty or sixty yards in circumference--for it was an almost
complete natural circle fringed by trees and heavy bush--a white man was
sitting on a fallen log, a big pipe in his mouth and a long rifle across
his knees. His face, which looked low and brutal, seemed to peer out
through a profusion of bushy beard and whiskers, and his manner of
speech was aggressive and objectionable.
Within ten yards of him, bound hand and foot to a sapling, stood another
white man, stripped naked to a waist cloth, yet looking, in spite of his
degradation and emaciation, a brave man and a gentleman, whilst his
style of address differed in a very marked degree from that of the
scoundrel before him.
As our friends noiselessly gained their coign of vantage, the prisoner
was speaking, and his voice, though clear, was so weak and low that the
trio had to strain their ears to catch his words.
"Abiram Levert," he said, "you have kept me bound to this tree for three
days and nights without food, you have given me water to prolong my
sufferings and keep me alive, and I tell you once and for all that your
devilish ingenuity is utterly thrown away upon me. I am an Englishman,
and a man, moreover, who fears and trusts the God you daily blaspheme in
your false, infamous worship: and I warn you that no power on earth
shall force or induce me to consent to my daughter's union with such a
wretched piece of carrion as yourself, having already half a dozen
miserable so-called wives in your filthy harem. I would undergo a
thousand horrible deaths sooner than agree to your proposals, and I pray
God that Dora may die rather than fall into such abominable hands."
The face of the Mormon assumed a positively Satanic aspect, and he
nervously fingered the lock of his rifle, but suddenly rose and laughed
a harsh discordant laugh, removed his pipe from his mouth, and
expectorated violently. "All right, Jack Winfield," he growled. "I
guess I can wait; another week of this will bring you to your senses;
and if it doesn't--why, I'll carry your pretty daughter off into the
woods, and then perhaps she'll be glad to form one of my establishment,
_if she can get the chance_," and the villain turned to walk away.
And now was enacted a singular drama--part tragedy, part comedy.
The cousins, with their rifles cocked, had been watching every action of
the Mormon so closely that they had quite forgotten their Zulu friend,
and just as the man who had been designated as Abiram Levert was about
to leave the glade and betake himself to the forest on the side farthest
from their hiding-place, to the utter astonishment of the watchers,
Myzukulwa coolly stepped out into the open and barred his passage in a
threatening manner. Quick as thought the Mormon threw forward his
rifle, but before he could pull the trigger the active Zulu had struck
up his muzzle and the piece was harmlessly discharged in the air.
Myzukulwa promptly followed up his advantage, and aimed a thrust at his
enemy which would certainly have annihilated him, when his spear was
deftly turned aside by a similar weapon, from which it struck a
veritable shower of sparks, and the Zulu found himself fully employed in
protecting his own epidermis from the spear of a splendid-looking man,
who might easily have passed for one of his own people.
Taking advantage of this diversion in his favour, the cowardly Mormon
drew a murderous-looking hunting-knife, and, walking up to the Zulu,
prepared to strike him in the back. The moment he raised the weapon,
however, Grenville's rifle vomited a sheet of flame through the bushes,
and Brother Abiram Levert bit the dust, with a heavy bullet through his
brain.
The cousins watched anxiously for a chance of disposing of Myzukulwa's
opponent in like manner, but the evolutions of the combatants were much
too complicated to admit of shooting one without very great risk to the
other.
The Zulu had forced his man inch by inch into the centre of the forest
glade, and the steely flashes of the spears were keen and vivid as the
lightning on a stormy night; all at once Myzukulwa, who had manoeuvred
so as to get the light into his opponent's eyes, made an advance which
Grenville knew to be a favourite and deadly point of his, and, on its
being most unexpectedly parried, bounded back with a cry of
astonishment, and stood quietly leaning on his spear, whilst his foe
gazed at him, for the space of a few seconds, in sheer wonder, and then,
concluding Myzukulwa had given in, prepared to finish him. The great
Zulu, however, raised his hand, and, pointing to his foe, began a speech
which was both wild and curious:--
"Tell me, white men, what is life? Is it not the breath of the Creator?
Does it come and go like the blushes on a maiden's cheek? Is it the
shadow which comes to us at daybreak but to vanish with the setting sun?
Here have we no daybreak, nor can it be evening; yet, how then, in this
strange place of witchcraft, have I, Myzukulwa, the son of Isanusi, the
last of the ancient chieftains of the race of Undi, met face to face and
fought with my brother Amaxosa, the son of my own mother, he having been
slain in the Pass of the Spooks sixty long moons ago?"
The other man emitted a strange wild cry, gazed for a moment at
Myzukulwa as if spell-bound, and then the pair fell to embracing one
another, vociferating the while in the Zulu tongue, whilst Grenville,
who saw they had no more to fear from the new arrival, commenced
unbinding the white prisoner with many commiserating expressions.
"Who are you?" he asked Grenville.
"Englishmen who have come in answer to your entreaty for help," replied
Leigh.
"Thank God--oh! thank God," murmured the other, and then fainted dead
away in their arms.
A little water sprinkled on his face soon brought him to life again, and
he commenced to explain his position.
"My name," he began, "is John Winfield, and I--"
"Look here, old chap," cut in Leigh, "we've no time to hear your story
now; we can see you don't belong to this wretched Mormon herd, so just
swallow this drop of brandy whilst we strip yonder scoundrel and get you
something decent to put on, and we'll try to feed you by-and-by. Dick,
what a good thing it was you took that fellow in the head; I drew a bead
on his ribs, and should have mauled his clothes horribly if you hadn't
fired first."
With the help of the Zulus the dead Mormon was quickly despoiled of his
apparel and Winfield rigged out in it, and by the time this was done,
the shadows were lengthening and Myzukulwa said his brother was ready to
take them to a place of safety, where they would find food, water, and
sleep. Rapidly assenting to the plan, Grenville told the Zulus to lead
on, and leaving the denuded body of Brother Abiram without compunction,
they followed their new friend through the forest.
Plunging deeper and deeper into the bush, they found the country rough
and stony; the trees were of unusual growth, and matted with curious
creepers of the lichen species, whilst here and there tangled festoons
of parasites hung from tree to tree in the likeness of gigantic swinging
hammocks. The party at length heard the welcome sound of running water,
and soon reached a small stream, into which, by direction of Amaxosa,
all entered, following its course upward for quite a mile, so as to
conceal every trace of their movements. Then, instead of climbing the
bank, the active Zulu swung himself into a tree which overhung the
water, and, working his way along a stout branch, was followed one by
one by the entire party, all being thus enabled to drop on to some rocks
a dozen feet off, without leaving any marks behind them. Another mile,
mainly over stony ground brought the party to a second small river, up
which they waded in like manner for some little distance, until they
found that it issued from a great hole in the side of a curious
ragged-looking cliff, which, erecting itself some hundred feet above
them, seemed entirely to bar further progress through the forest.
Through this entrance Amaxosa passed, beckoning to the party to follow;
and when the gloom began to grow deep some twenty yards from the outlet,
he spoke for the first time, addressing Grenville in fairly good
English, though he did not speak the language with the same fluency as
his brother.
"Let the Inkoosis strike lights, and Amaxosa will find his torch."
Grenville at once complied with this request, and when the match was
once alight the Zulu stepped forward a couple of yards, picked up his
torch from a ledge of rock, and having quickly ignited it, led the party
out of the water, up a passage some fifty feet long, and into a spacious
and lofty cavern, having the appearance of a vaulted room, with only one
outlet.