Leaving poor Grenville in his dismal prison, we must now return for the
time being to our friends at the plateau.
Despite the awful storm which followed Grenville's departure, Leigh and
Myzukulwa kept diligent guard, for both were determined that they would
never again be caught napping. One of Grenville's last instructions to
Leigh had been to keep a double watch every night, and to at once get an
enormous pile of thorn-bushes up to the plateau, "when," said he, "you
can make a _chevaux de frise_ at the top of the path, which will keep
the whole Mormon nation fully employed whilst you shoot them."
In the very height of the storm the watchers, by a flash of lightning,
saw a figure approaching their position, and Leigh at once challenged,
but received no reply. The next flash, however, showed him that the
nocturnal wanderer was Amaxosa. The chief stalked up the path, shook
himself like a great dog, and then, without saying a single word,
entered the cave, deposited Grenville's weapons on the floor, and lay
down by the fire.
Now, however, this extraordinary and unexplained return penetrated the
reserve of even the well-trained Myzukulwa, who, after waiting in a
state of suppressed excitement for some moments to give his brother time
to speak, at length burst out with a torrent of questions.
"Since when has a child of the Undi learned to desert his chief? Thou
didst go out into the dark night but a few short hours ago with my
father, the great and mighty warrior; where is my father now? Myzukulwa
asks thee. Is he perchance dead? Then will I, Myzukulwa, the son of
Isanusi, follow on after the spirit of my father, and cry, `Behold, my
father, thy faithful war-dog of the race of Undi. Turn thine eyes, my
father, towards Zululand, and wait for thy son Myzukulwa, who follows
after thee, and is thy man to the death, ay, and ever after.'"
And the splendid fellow sprang to his feet, took his spears in hand as
if ready to set out, and fixed his eyes, glowing with inquiry and fierce
determination, full upon his brother.
For a short space Amaxosa answered not, then his words came low and
sadly:--
"The great white chief my father has chased away from his side his
faithful dog, and the heart of Amaxosa is sad, my brother, and his
breast heavy with fear that the evil men, the witch-finders, being so
many, will overcome my father and prevail against him."
Then he broke out into a sort of funereal wail which made Leigh's blood
run cold, it sounded so like ill-omened prophecy.
"Ow, my father, why hast thou left me? The stormy night is wet and
cold, but the hand of death is colder--colder, and the mists of the
grave are still more wet and deadly. Let my father call his sons to
him, and they will follow along the dark and fearsome path that leads to
the hereafter. Inkoos, the heart of Amaxosa is split in twain, and he
fears the unknown evil which will befall the mighty chief he loves."
Leigh was about to answer the Zulu, when all of a sudden the heavens and
earth seemed to meet in one vivid blinding sheet of flame, and as the
astonished watchers held their breath, the very, mountains were shaken
to their pro-Adamite foundations, by the explosion of the magazines in
East Utah.
For a moment the countenance of Amaxosa brightened, and turning to
Myzukulwa, as the flames in the Mormon town shot up towards the sky,
"See, my brother," he cried, "the great chief our father has destroyed
the wicked witch-finders, and set fire to their kraals. Oh that we, his
sons, might be at his side to slay the evil ones who yet are left alive!
Great is the chief, our father; let us also die the deaths of mighty
warriors, and let our last end be even as his."
The girls now rushed in, affrighted by the explosion, and asked if the
thunder had torn the mountain in two.
Leigh briefly explained the position, when his betrothed, who saw his
anxious face, looked very grave, and poor Rose burst into tears and
threw herself into Dora's arms, crying, to Leigh's astonishment, "Oh! my
darling, my darling, I have indeed lost you for ever!"
The grim Zulu Amaxosa turned to Leigh as Rose was led away by Dora,
saying, "It is even so, Inkoos; the Flower of East Utah is laid low, for
she loved my father, even as his sons loved him, and my heart is very
sad for her." And then changing his manner to the old warlike tones,
"And now let the Inkoos, my master, say what he wishes the sons of Undi
to do. The storm is breaking, and if perchance my father has escaped
from the evil men he will be here by daybreak; but whether he be here or
no, the remnant of yon witch-finders will attempt to take our kraal
before the sun is again at rest. Let my master open his ears that he
may hear my words. With these bushes we will build a wall of thorns,
which no living man can force--it must be placed below the rock, not
upon it--and it shall be that when the whole army of devils are gathered
in one place to uproot the bushes, then will the Inkoos my master
command the sons of Undi, who will cast upon these low people the
lightning-boxes--surely they are bewitched--which will tear them in
pieces, even as they would have destroyed ourselves when last they came;
and if any shall yet be left alive after the lightning of the thunder,
then the spears in the right hands of my master's servants shall slay
them; so will the faithful sons of my father, the great and mighty
lion-hearted chief, revenge his death and make smooth his path to the
shades as he views the bleeding, senseless bodies of his evil-minded
foes."
After some little discussion Leigh accepted this cunning scheme in its
entirety, subject, of course, to the approval of his cousin should he
return.
The night wore on, and the grey dawn broke upon East Utah smiling and
lovely as ever, but the poor watchers upon the rock sat haggard and
anxious, for he whom they loved and waited for came not.
Almost broken-hearted, Leigh at last laid himself down and slept an
uneasy and troubled sleep, from which he was awakened by the welcome
news that the enemy was close at hand and advancing in considerable
force. Welcome the news indeed was, for every man and woman upon that
rocky shelf felt that at that moment they had but one object in life--
vengeance of the most awful character for the death of him they loved
beyond all earthly considerations.
Disregarding the deadly fire of the Winchesters, which thinned their
numbers in every direction, the Mormons marched on, a solemn silent
mass. At one hundred yards they began to fire their guns, but did no
execution of any kind; and now the party above fairly hailed bullets
upon them from rifles, revolvers, and from the Mormons' own captured
guns, and the ground was thickly strewn with dead and dying men.
Volley after volley the attacking party fired, till at last their
salvoes dwindled down to a few sputtering shots, and then ceased
entirely. _The Mormons had exhausted their last kernel of powder_, and
now prepared to storm the plateau, sword in hand.
The matter fell out exactly as Amaxosa had foreseen, and when a full
hundred of the enemy were busy with their swords trying to cut into the
zareba, the Zulus plunged the two shells into the mass of living men,
which was promptly transformed into an awful heap of bleeding, groaning,
human pulp. A few wounded men tried to limp away, but the Zulus were
down the rock almost as soon as the shells, and of one hundred and fifty
men who had left the Mormon town that morning, not one returned to tell
the awful tale of shame and woe.
The wounded were soon put out of pain by the unconcerned Zulus, who then
brought up to the plateau a perfect mountain of weapons in the shape of
guns, spears, swords, and knives, all the time chanting victorious notes
over their fallen enemies, and adjuring their father, the mighty chief,
to smile upon his children.
As Leigh had supposed, the Mormons had entirely exhausted their powder
before they made the final charge which proved so fatal to themselves--
not a single grain of powder could be found in any of their flasks.
Thus ended another attempt of the Mormons upon the plateau; they had, as
Grenville had foreseen, no more stomach for such desperate work as this,
at present.
As soon as night fell, Amaxosa set out for East Utah, armed with
Grenville's revolvers, and determined if possible to discover what had
happened to his beloved chief.
Obtaining access to the town, as before, by the river, which was now
reduced to its normal state, he prowled about in the shade, running
awful risks, but hearing and seeing nothing, and was just about to leave
the place in despair, when observing a number of Mormons approaching, he
shrank back into a dark alley between two houses.
The band he sought to avoid was met at this point--in fact, directly
opposite to his hiding-place--by a detachment travelling in the opposite
direction, both parties stopping and entering into conversation.
The Zulu watched them like a lynx, but what was his astonishment and
even delight to behold the master whom he had believed to be dead,
standing amongst his enemies; with great chains upon his hands and feet,
it is true, yet still alive and well, and preserving upon his face the
impress of that habitual coolness and determined bravery which had so
won upon the heart of this untutored savage.
With longing eyes Amaxosa gazed upon his friend, but he was a shrewd man
as well as a courageous one, and he foresaw that any attempt at a rescue
could at this moment have no good result, but rather the reverse.
Just as the two bands parted, Grenville was forced up against the wall,
and quick as lightning the Zulu shot out his hand and dropped a small
pistol into his friend's coat-pocket. So neatly was the action
performed that our hero, who had been roused out of his sleep, and led
away to be interviewed, he was told, by the Holy Three, did not know
what had happened, thinking he had only knocked his side against a
corner; but on moving his hand directly after, his forearm struck
something heavy, and carefully feeling in his pocket, his fingers closed
like a vice on his own favourite Derringer, and in an instant he
realised that he had stood within a foot or two of his devoted Zulu
friend without knowing it. Cautiously hiding the pistol in his breast,
where his chained hands could more easily reach it, he found himself
once more ushered into the presence of the Mormon Trinity.
As soon as the guards had retired, which they did at a sign from the
Mormon prophet, the triumvirate commenced to question Grenville upon the
number of his friends, the quantity of their ammunition, the range of
their weapons, and so forth.
To all these reiterated inquiries he made no answer save an amused
smile.
Then Brother Ishmael Warden, as usual, lost his temper.
"Dog of an Englishman!" he thundered, "answer or you die."
"Death," was the cutting reply, "is the home which welcomes brave men,
the shadow which frightens cowards. Our rifles are more than sufficient
to sweep from the face of the earth the few men your nation has left."
The Prophet now interposed, and, to Grenville's amused disgust, offered
him life and magnificent terms if he would throw in his lot with them
and conform to their laws, bringing his party and his weapons with them.