Chapter Eight.
A Night Attack.
Being perfectly secure from Mormon interference—at all events, for the moment—Grenville and the two Zulus proceeded somewhat leisurely on their way to the rock, for, truth to tell, all three were suffering from both hunger and fatigue, and their one single consolation consisted of a good smoke.
And now, as they gradually knocked off the weary miles which lay between the central river and the great rock, Grenville heard the details of the Zulu expedition to the eastern bridge.
These active children of the veldt had made a very wide détour during the first night, and safely reached the desired shelter of the timber about an hour before dawn, and had watched and slept by turns all day, having first satisfied themselves that no large force of the enemy was near at hand. On the bridge they found two guards instead of one, which, as they said, “made their hearts glad, as the fight would be a fair one,” for the astute Myzukulwa had determined that at least three rockets should go up, by hook or by crook. Instead, therefore, of alarming the sentinels by showing their persons at dusk, they came upon the miserable men in the most approved Zulu fashion, and settled them out of hand, without even giving them the chance of firing a shot.
The pair had then coolly sat down and talked, debating how many rockets to fire, and had ultimately concluded that Amaxosa, who was quite au fait with the method of sending up these aerial messengers, should despatch five, and thus cause the Mormons to believe that Winfield and the escaped Zulu had joined themselves to the audacious invaders of their secret kingdom.
No sooner was this operation satisfactorily performed than the brothers prepared to set out for the central bridge, when they were all at once assailed by five or six Mormons, who had sprung from somewhere close at hand, and a desperate battle of course ensued. One of the attacking party, in trying to shoot Myzukulwa, had kindly missed that worthy and “potted” one of his own friends, and in less time than it takes to tell, three of the enemy were dead and the others retreating at full speed; but not knowing how many more might be lying hid, the Zulus for a wonder concluded discretion to be the better part of valour, and after turning off the bridge had come at a slinging trot all the way to Grenville’s position, which, as we have already seen, they reached just in the very nick of time.
When the trio had put in nearly two hours’ solid work, poor Grenville grew faint with fatigue, exposure, and loss of blood. The grey ghostly mists of dawn were now hanging over the party on every side; but, as far as Amaxosa could judge, they were still an hour’s journey from the rock, and as the Mormons might have sent a fast detachment by the western bridge, it behoved our friends to lose no time.
For some way the faithful Zulus, themselves nearly dead beat, half supported, half carried Grenville, only to find, when they spoke to him, that he was fast asleep on his feet; laying him gently down, the pair looked at each other as if wondering what to do, when suddenly a colossal figure seemed to burst out of the mist and dash right down upon them at full speed; in one instant the Zulus sprang over their fallen chief and raised their spears to meet the foe, but all at once Myzukulwa lowered his weapon quietly. “Ow! Inkoos,” he said. “Ow!”
The new arrival was Alf Leigh, riding the quagga, which had shortly before carried the lovely Rose of Sharon. Seeing his cousin’s motionless and bloodstained body, he threw himself off the animal and fell on his knees beside it. “Dick! Dick! my poor old Dick—dead! dead! dead! Oh, God! oh, God! what shall I do? Would I had died for thee, my dear old Dick!”
“Stay, Inkoos,” said Amaxosa gently. “My father the lion-hearted chief is not dead; he does but sleep the sleep of the wounded and the weary. At yonder bridge, by the dark River of Death, did the sons of Undi find their father, the mighty warrior, surrounded by heaps upon heaps of dead and dying men, and also by men yet living who thirsted for his blood; but his faithful war-dogs chased away these evil ones; even as the chaff they flew before the fierce wind; but they were not, for the sons of Undi slew them. And but now, as you came, had we laid the Inkoos our father on the grass, for he sleeps a sleep of weariness, of cold, of hunger, and of blood; and we, his weary children, are too worn to carry him; yet if the Inkoos will take our father on the horse, we will aid him gladly.”
And so the noble fellows did; and Leigh, with fervent thanks to Heaven for the miraculous escape of his beloved cousin, lifted him on to the quagga, and held him there with Myzukulwa’s help, whilst Amaxosa took the animal’s head, and led the way at a quiet pace—not, however, before Leigh had first refreshed the Zulus with a strong nip of brandy.
At last they reached the rock, just as the sun rose, and laid the still unconscious Grenville down to have his rest out, whilst the Zulus flung their tired bodies down and were instantly asleep.
When our hero at last awoke, feeling stiff, sore, and very hungry, he stared about him in sheer astonishment, and wondered whether he still dreamed. He had no recollection of having reached the rock, yet he knew he was inside it, and quickly realised that he must have been in some way carried there.
To rest was soothing, but the pangs of hunger were gnawing his very vitals, and heaving a weary sigh he made a movement to rise. At this moment a small white hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a sweet voice, which he at once recognised, said in tones of playful command, “Lie still, sir; I can’t afford to let you become an invalid.”
“Ah! young lady,” he said, “and how is the Rose of Sharon this morning, and did her curious-looking pony bring her safely here?”
“Thank you, I am very well,” replied the young girl, coming round to the other side of the cavern and looking down upon him as he leaned lazily on one elbow; “only it isn’t morning, but four o’clock in the afternoon; and don’t you mock at my little horse—you would never have got here but for him. There now, don’t talk any more. Just lie down again and I’ll bring you some food, which Dora is getting ready;” but as Rose turned away Miss Winfield herself entered with a big plateful of boiled fish, the best food, she said, they could offer him at present.
Both girls looked fresh and hearty, and neat as new pins, much to Grenville’s surprise, for the storm of the night before was calculated to have ruined every garment they possessed.
Whilst he ate greedily, the girls explained that the storm had hardly touched them until near the rock itself, and by dint of making the poor quagga carry double burden they had practically arrived in shelter before any serious harm was done.
“Very hard on the animal, Mr Grenville, I can assure you,” said Dora; “two of Rose wouldn’t have mattered so much, you know, but when I got on his back I felt certain I could hear him groan. When the poor little beastie got here he thought, I suppose, that he could rest, but the moment the storm began to clear off Mr Leigh insisted on mounting him and riding away to look for you. He found you lying so fast asleep that he took you for dead, and the Zulus were at their wits’ end, not knowing what to do, so you were mounted and brought here in a state of unconsciousness.”
“Well done, Alf,” said Grenville; “it was a risky thing to set out by himself in this country so mounted and on such a night, but he always was a plucky fellow. Where is everybody, Miss Winfield?”
“My father and the Zulus have gone to Amaxosa’s cave to bring up the rest of the dried meat at nightfall, and have taken the quagga with them, and your cousin is here to look after Rose and myself.”
“And a very good judge, too,” said Grenville, noticing that the fair girl blushed when she named his cousin; “but Miss Winfield—”
“Won’t you call me Dora?” said the girl; “Mr Leigh does.”
“With pleasure,” said Grenville heartily, “provided you will play fairly and call me Dick.”
This was agreed upon, as also that Rose and himself should be equally intimate for the future.
“You see,” explained Miss Winfield, “we have been called Sister Rose and Sister Dora so long, that surnames sound odd to us, and I really think they are somewhat out of place in the African bush.”
“Well, Dora, I was about to say,” resumed Grenville, “that I have enjoyed the fish very much, and am extremely glad to know that we can procure such a valuable addition to our scanty bill of fare; but haven’t you been unwise to light a fire in the daytime? Believe me, these Mormon bloodhounds are to be feared, and we are by no means out of the wood yet.”
Both girls laughed, and then quoth Rose: “You forget I am a Mormon bloodhound, sir, and that this is my country; and let me tell you we own many strange and wonderful things—amongst them, a boiling spring, which bubbles up close to the rock, if you know where to find it, and therein we have cooked all our food. Seriously, I must thank you very, very much for helping me yesterday, and let me add that all the annals of our race contain no instance of such determined bravery and devoted heroism as you exhibited at the bridge last night. You saved me from death or worse than death, at the hands of the detested Holy Three; and when the time comes, remember that the Mormon queen will pay you life for life.” And with the tears starting from her fine eyes this strange girl swept imperially away, followed almost immediately by Dora, after she had first instructed Grenville to sleep again, which he did, dreaming alternately of fair-haired and dark-browed maidens, and Mormons thirsting for his blood.
All that night Grenville again slept soundly, and when he awoke in the morning he was quite his own man again, much to the relief of all concerned.
His first act was to make several necessary provisions for the comfort of the young ladies, after which he again inspected the defences of the rock with a dissatisfied air.
“What’s the matter with the place, Dick?” said Leigh; “it’s impregnable.”
“Not a bit of it, Alf,” was the reply; “if they attack any night before the moon rises, they can shoot us through our own loopholes like rats in a cage.”
“I never thought of that,” said Leigh, pulling a long face; and having called the rest of the fighting brigade into council, this serious difficulty was discussed at considerable length, but the only, and to Grenville unsatisfactory, conclusion arrived at was to lay on the ground after nightfall a number of small fires made of resinous wood, and connected with the rock by trains of powder. The Zulus were to patrol the neighbourhood from dusk until moonrise, and give notice of any hostile approach, when the trains would be fired and the beacons lighted, to enable the besieged to shoot accurately. This scheme had weak points about it which disturbed Grenville, who now knew the fighting qualities of the Mormons. Still he could suggest nothing better, and could only hope their enemies would altogether fail to discover the present position of the devoted little band. Scouting parties had several times been seen outlying on the adjacent veldt, but it was only after the lapse of three full days that Myzukulwa found a Mormon skulking in the woods, and clearly watching their movements: him he slew, but it was evident that the man was only an advance guard, for that very night, as soon as darkness set in, both scouts gave the danger signal within a few moments of each other, and as soon as they had regained the rock, Grenville lighted the fires, and sent his marksmen to the loopholes.
This movement was only executed just in time, for about three score Mormons were already half-way across the open glade. For another hundred yards they advanced steadily, under a murderous fire, and then gave way, and fled back to their covers, leaving upwards of a dozen men on the ground, having failed in getting within range to fire a single shot from their own guns.
“Alf,” said Grenville, “this won’t do at all: three of our shots were thrown away, for on three several occasions we both took the same man; you keep the left advance in hand and I’ll take care of the right.”
Winfield, who had loaded all the captured Mormon guns, was anxious to join in the fray, but the enemy was of course quite out of his reach, and the two Zulus were fairly itching to use their spears, where they stood guarding the entrance to the cave.
Again the Mormons tried a rush, and again were driven back by the deadly hail of bullets from the repeating rifles, and quickly retreating into the woods, all grew still as death. And but for the corpses strewn about the sward no one would have imagined that a fierce and bloody fight was even now in progress.
Half an hour passed, and dashing the butt of his rifle on the ground, Grenville swore roundly.
“Just what I expected; the cunning rascals are waiting till yonder beacons are burnt out, and then they’ll rush us.”
“Can’t we mend the fires?” anxiously suggested Leigh; “we’ve plenty of fuel.”
“No, old man, they’ve got a rifle hidden in the grass less than 100 yards from every fire. Just watch, and you’ll see. Yonder scoundrel is 500 yards if he is an inch, but I’ll see if I can’t rouse the snake out of that.”
A careful sight preceded the report, and the concealed Mormon bounded from his hiding-place, with a bullet through his shoulder, only to be shot dead before he could move another yard.
A cry of astonishment broke from the forest—the range of the English rifles exceeded all they had feared or believed.
And now fire after fire died out, and Grenville commanded his little party to take up certain positions, where they would be more or less screened, and also confided the two girls to a perfectly safe corner, and then waited the result, straining his eyes through the darkness to catch a glimpse of the foe, as he felt sure the Mormon crowd must now be on their way across the open space and speeding towards the rock.
Just at this critical moment the beleaguered party was relieved, and at the same time fairly astonished by an extraordinary occurrence. Half-way between the rock and the fringe of forest the ashes of one fire had been quietly smouldering for some moments, after all the other beacons were clean burnt out; and now, as all listened intently, expecting to hear the cautious tread of the approaching foe, a curious rumbling sound was heard, and a single instant later a liquid column of fire suddenly burst from the ground, shooting up to the height of thirty or forty feet, where it uniformly hung like a gigantic fountain of living flame, whose waves, as they reached the ground, scorched the grass and rolled irresistibly towards the forest like a sea of blazing boiling lava.
The fire had burnt through the earth’s crust and ignited a vast reservoir of petroleum, which now sprang heavenwards in a vivid pillar of lurid light, plainly revealing every stick and stone for fully half a mile around the rock.
All this Grenville realised as it were by instinct; but there was no time to observe the extraordinary natural phenomenon, for the whole Mormon army appeared to be rushing across the open glade within two hundred and fifty yards of the rock.
The fire of the besieged was close and deadly; and though upwards of twenty men fell to rise no more, whilst another score or two turned tail and incontinently fled into cover, still some ten in number, braver than their comrades, gained the rock and attempted to enter, only to fall a useless sacrifice to the spears of the Zulus and the revolvers of Leigh and Winfield.
Thus closed the Mormon attack on the rocky fortress of the little band.
Careful watch was kept all night, but at dawn not a living soul was to be seen, and ascending the rock Grenville soon found that the entire party had gone clean away, leaving only their dead and their shame.
He had at first feared that the molten stream of fire would ignite the forest; this, however, was prevented by the river near the rock, into which the boiling oil poured, and was carried harmlessly away, incalculable wealth thus being wasted hourly before their very eyes.