Chapter Five.
The Forlorn Hope.
In one corner of this vaulted room—for such it certainly looked—was piled a stack of firewood, whilst several strips of dried flesh hung invitingly against the wall, and three or four large stones lying handy had evidently been used as seats by the former occupants of the cavern.
Amaxosa now proceeded to light a fire; but Grenville stopped him, just as he was about to thrust his torch into a mass of dry wood and leaves, urging the unwisdom of the proceeding.
“Let not the Inkoosis fear,” replied the Zulu; “the smoke travels through a hole in the roof of the cave and comes out through a heap of reeds in an evil-smelling fever swamp on the high lands above, and which no man will willingly approach; and if the smoke be seen, it will but be taken for the evening mists rising from the marsh. Besides all this, the night is now dark outside; let the Inkoosis look—the words of Amaxosa are true.”
Grenville went down the passage and looked out, only to find that their guide was perfectly right, and that night had indeed cast an unusually black mantle of protection round them.
This being so, they enjoyed to the full a good warm feed, accompanied by hot coffee from their own little store; and then placing Myzukulwa on guard, a precaution which no fancied security would induce Grenville to forego, the party lighted their pipes, and disposed themselves comfortably round the fire to listen to Winfield’s narrative.
This was short, but to the point. He had been gold-prospecting near the foot of the Pass with his party of seven men, his daughter also being with him, and had been surprised one night by about threescore Mormons, who at once murdered his men, but saved Winfield’s life and his daughter’s because he offered a heavy ransom.
“You see, gentlemen,” he said, “my little girl had been with me for five years, and I had forgotten, God forgive me! that she was growing up into a fine young woman. I had been at my work for ten years, and between gold and diamonds I had done so well that I’m afraid I thought of little else. I imagined I could buy these rascals off. My daughter, I now see, they kept for their own vile ends, and, unfortunately for me, they soon found out that I was the very man they were short of in their community, for, let me tell you, this secret territory of theirs is literally bursting with mineral wealth of all kinds, which they have no idea how to work. Over and over again they have pressed me to join their abominable brotherhood and become one of them, offering me instant death as an alternative; but I knew I was much too useful to be killed out of hand, and I laughed in their faces. That blackguard Levert was positively the first man who ever really tried to injure me, and he took me by surprise when we were out on a prospecting trip—he had been importuning me to give him my daughter in ‘marriage’! and I had determined to shoot her dead before I would accede either to his or any Mormon’s wishes in that respect.
“Fortunately every woman is safe here for a full year, unless she chooses to marry of her own accord, and after that time the consent of her nearest relative is sufficient, whether the poor creature wills or no. Now we have been here just ten months, so have still some little time before us—that is, if you gentlemen are, as I understand, willing to assist me in liberating my little girl from the Novices’ Convent in the Mormon town which lies about a dozen miles from here.” And the poor fellow looked at Grenville and Leigh with a half-inquiring and wholly imploring expression on his face.
The cousins were deeply touched by Winfield’s evident anxiety about his daughter; neither, however, spoke—but both reached forward and warmly shook hands with him, and as they did so Grenville saw the tears spring to his eyes. Rightly interpreting their silent sympathy, he went on—
“And now, gentlemen—”
“One moment, old fellow!” interjected Leigh; “this is Dick Grenville, who ‘bosses our show,’ as, I suppose, our unwelcome neighbours would call it, and I am his lazy cousin Alfred Leigh; so do, for goodness’ sake, call us Leigh and Grenville, and drop that ‘gentlemen’ palaver—it sounds a bit off in a cavern, don’t you know.”
Winfield bowed to the cousins over this unceremonious and characteristic introduction, and then again took up the thread of his story.
“I was going to say that I feel certain you are quite safe in trusting yonder Zulu; he hated his brutal masters even more than I did, and I suspect he only interfered to-day because he knew that if he did not do so his own skin would pay the forfeit. He once escaped, and was at large for upwards of three months, and I suppose he must then have unearthed this hiding-place. He killed one of the guards who stood in his way, and was to have been shot when retaken; but the Holy Three relented at the last moment, on the score of his being such an excellent hunter with native weapons—a great consideration with these people, as the stock of ammunition which has sufficed them for fifty years is getting rather low. They got a dozen barrels of powder out of my little camp, and thought they had found a treasure, but, unfortunately for them, it was fine blasting powder, which blew half a dozen of their rotten old shooting-irons to pieces, and opportunely hurried two of their biggest ruffians into the nether world.”
A discussion then ensued, in which Grenville closely questioned their new ally, and received answers which gave him a very fair idea of their present position and prospects, and confirmed him in the knowledge that their party would never be permitted to leave the Mormon territory alive if those gentry had their own way. “Only one man,” said Winfield, “ever got away alive, and he, curiously enough, must have escaped two or three days before you got in. He was a very decent man, and a great agitator for reform, and was consequently popular with many of the people, but particularly obnoxious to the Holy Three and their immediate satellites, the Avenging Angels.”
Grenville obtained an accurate description of this fortunate (?) individual, and had little difficulty in convincing Winfield that the man in question—or, rather, all that remained of him—now hung rotting ignominiously upon a cross near the great stone stairway.
“That explains their coolness over it all,” said Winfield. “I told the guards that he would be back in two months’ time with an army to reduce them, but they only laughed, and said ‘they guessed their little country was just about impregnable,’ and they were glad to see the last of him, for he was only a nuisance.”
“Well,” said Grenville at last, “the best thing you can do now you’ve had a smoke and relieved your mind, Winfield, is to go to sleep, for you stand much in need of rest after your long exposure and involuntary fast. I’ll have a chat with the Zulus now, and, if they consent, I propose to lie hidden here for a couple of days, so that you can get your strength up. So pray turn in at once—you too, Alf.” And leaving the pair to make their rough beds of dried leaves, he joined the Zulus, who were talking earnestly together in the doorway of the cavern.
Amaxosa was quite confident that their place of shelter was altogether unknown to the Mormons, as they had never been able to find him until one evil day when they had stumbled across him a score of miles from the spot they now occupied. Asked whether there was any way out of the country, he said “No”; he had most thoroughly searched for a means of exit, and had concluded that the white people were witch-finders, who got in and out by flying over the mountains.
On being asked how he was brought in, he said he did not know, as he was knocked senseless with a blow from the butt-end of a rifle before he was captured, and had been expected to die for a week thereafter. Myzukulwa had told him the story of their entry into this wonderful country, and he (Amaxosa) was “very willing to follow and to fight for such great and wise white chiefs, and would be their man to the death.” Grenville then bestowed some tobacco upon his new ally, and, after a hearty handshake, sent both the brothers to lie down, whilst he himself took the first watch, and cudgelled his brains as to the further movements of the whole party. Three hours later, when he knocked the ashes out of his pipe and lay down to rest, after having seen Amaxosa on guard, and given him strict orders that no fire was on any consideration to be alight during the daytime, Grenville’s mind was quite made up.
They must carry off Miss Winfield by a coup de main in the course of the next few days, occupying the interim in choosing out and victualling one or two exceptionally strong positions between their present refuge and the great stairway. They must hold each of these as long as was possible, falling back by degrees, and, after fighting their ultimate position to the last gasp, endeavour to take the foe by surprise, and circumvent—or, if needful, cut their way through—the guard, which, he had no doubt, was already rigidly posted in the subterranean roadway, and so regain the Pass and the outside world.
The plan was dangerous to a degree, but was in fact the only one which offered the slightest chance of success; their own act had brought them into this mysterious country, and nothing short of supreme audacity and the most determined bravery could carry them out again. Moreover, Grenville was quite resolved not to go away empty-handed. Granted that the place really was, as Winfield had said, simply alive with gold, he meant both Leigh and himself to have a lion’s share—not that either was greedy of fortune, but both, as younger sons of old families, had keenly felt the snubs of wealth, and it would truly be a grand thing if they could fill their pockets out of nature’s inexhaustible stores.
Their present position, except by trenching advisedly upon their supplies, was untenable for any length of time; this had come out in the course of Grenville’s questions to Amaxosa.
“Why,” he had asked, “have we seen no game, not a living creature of any kind, with the exception of a few birds, and yet you and the Inkoos Winfield talk of hunting?”
“Because of the great black gulf and the dark River of Death,” was the answer; and Grenville had been given to understand that this wonderful country was absolutely cut in two, from side to side, by a yawning abyss, forty to fifty feet across, through which, some three hundred feet below, flowed a sluggish and inky-looking stream of incalculable depth, thoroughly meriting the Stygian name bestowed upon it.
This awful chasm, which intersected the country for over eighty miles, was cleverly spanned in three places, equidistant about twenty miles, by stout but narrow wooden bridges; and these were jealously-guarded night and day, the nearest one to the present hiding-place of the party being also the bridge most adjacent to the Mormon stronghold, which went by the name of East Utah. It was one of these bridge guards that Amaxosa had slain in order to cross the gulf and, as he—poor fellow!—thought, regain his freedom.
On further consideration, and after an early breakfast, the party decided to change their quarters that very night, for, much to their surprise, it proved that Amaxosa had stowed away, in a cave close by, sufficient dried flesh to keep a small army going for months; this led to inquiry, and it came out that an enterprising Mormon had obtained the sanction of the Holy Three to conveying himself and his belongings across the bridge and into the veldt, where he expected to find excellent pasturage for his cattle, there being no animals of any kind on the outer side of the chasm. This herd the Zulu had looted most successfully, without the Mormon having an idea where a round dozen of his finest beasts had gone; and so disgusted was he thereat, that after a trial of one month he again betook himself to the inner lands, minus the pick of his herd. The meat thus feloniously obtained, Amaxosa had carefully dried and laid up—with most unusual forethought for one of his colour—against a rainy day.
Just before sunset, therefore, the whole party, bearing as much dried flesh as they could conveniently carry, took leave of their comfortable shelter, and cautiously retraced their steps to the glade where Levert had met his death, and where they found his body still lying, just as they had left it.
It being no part of Grenville’s new programme that the corpse should be discovered as yet, it was hastily concealed; and then, rapidly passing on, the party reached the open veldt just before sunset, rested there until the moon rose, and two hours later were safely entrenched in a spot which had previously impressed itself upon Grenville’s retentive memory as being singularly adapted for a sustained defence in the event of a protracted siege.
Their new shelter consisted of a curious-looking table-topped rock, quite fifty feet high and some thirty yards in length by about as many in breadth. From inside this rock flowed a small stream, which, as in the case of the cave they had just deserted, obtained exit through a rent about four feet wide in the massive wall of stone. In the interior of this rock, which was hollowed out into two separate caves of singularly angular and distorted appearance, the water welled up cool, fresh, and clear as crystal. The floor was of sandy gravel, and the rock, which was apparently of ironstone formation, had evidently been at one time struck by lightning, and was rent in every direction, in such a way as to leave most convenient loopholes for shooting through.
Altogether, it was a very strong place indeed, stood alone in a forest glade with six hundred yards of clear ground on every side of it, the only cover being low scrub; yet it was only one mile from the edge of the veldt, and perhaps twenty from the great stairway. Well provisioned, and with such weapons as theirs to defend it, and having regard to the fact that the place could only be entered by one man at a time, it might well be considered absolutely impregnable.
Here the party rested for the night, keeping guard by turns, and spending the whole of the next day in piling up firewood and timber joists, by which they could ascend twenty feet above the level of the outside ground, so as to scour the scrub, if needful, for any lurking foes; and also in putting up a sort of earthwork inside the rock, wherever the loopholes were too numerous to be required.
Night again put a welcome period to the labours of the party, and after breakfast on the following morning Grenville called all together, told them that the time for decided action had arrived, and unfolded his plan of operations, as follows.
At sunset the two Zulus were to set out and travel all night, and by dawn he calculated that they would—though taking a wide détour, to avoid the risk of premature discovery—have had time to reach the furthermost bridge across the great cañon, and hide themselves amongst the trees which at that point bordered the veldt. Both men were to lie carefully concealed there until shortly after sunset; but the moment it was fairly dark they were to approach the bridge, and contrive to let themselves be seen hanging about, as if desirous of crossing. This method of procedure would, Grenville felt sure, cause the guard great uneasiness, and result in his firing the signal rockets, and calling up the main body to effect the capture or destruction of the audacious foe.
Unless they were regularly set upon, the Zulus were not to indulge their inclinations for fighting, but, once having seen the fiery signals ascend, were to use the utmost despatch in regaining, by the most direct route, the neighbourhood of the central bridge. Here they were to await the return of Grenville and his party, accompanied, if successful in their attempt, by Miss Winfield, when the united body would make a desperate effort to reach the Table Rock, or, if too hard pressed to gain that desired haven, would find sanctuary in Amaxosa’s cave. If the stratagem, however, took the Mormons in as completely as Grenville expected, his own party would have a start of at least two hours, and this would probably enable them to get right through to the rock.
The plan was undoubtedly clever, and one, moreover, which gave promise of success; and having been discussed in all its details, it was unanimously adopted. The Zulus were recommended to rest and sleep all day, and at sunset were despatched as arranged, the white men in the meantime occupying themselves in completing, and if possible amplifying still further, the natural defences of their rocky fortress.
The Zulus were armed, as usual, with their spears Myzukulwa willingly relinquishing his revolver to Winfield, who had also possessed himself of the rifle and ammunition of which the party had despoiled Abiram Levert.
Grenville accompanied Myzukulwa and Amaxosa as far as the edge of the veldt, and impressed upon them the desirability of deceiving the bridge guard, if possible, as to the number of their persons; for, he explained, “if the main body of Mormons see but two signal rockets, they will suppose them to refer to Amaxosa and the Inkoos Winfield unarmed, and will only send on a few men to capture them; whilst if three rockets are fired, they will conclude at headquarters that it is our own party—it being clearly their habit to send up a rocket for each foe sighted on the outer veldt—and will send on all the men they have on the spot.” Then, wishing the brothers good luck, Grenville returned to the rock. The night was passed quietly by the party, which was now again reduced to its original, and, as Grenville said, fortunate number, Leigh adding jocularly that he would back their “dauntless three” at long odds against any Mormon trio in East Utah, the Holy Three preferred.
The next day was spent by the white men in examining their weapons with anxious care, after which they rested and smoked, waiting with feverish anxiety for the declining sun to set them on their way. At last the time came, and, after feeding well, the trio shook hands all round, and started out upon their desperate enterprise, for such it most certainly was. Three men against the whole Mormon community, which numbered, according to Winfield, probably a thousand able-bodied men, besides women, children, and youths, and was by no means deficient in subtlety of intellect.
The little party pushed forward in ominous silence, keeping carefully under cover, and about three and a half hours later saw all securely hidden in a patch of scrub which impinged upon the veldt a short mile from the central bridge, whereupon, before the darkness fell, as it did almost directly after their arrival, they could perceive two sentinels standing smoking and chatting together; and it was a saddening reflection to the trio that these men, at present in the full enjoyment of life, must of necessity die before the bridge would be free for their own purposes.
The minutes dragged on their weary way with leaden feet, and Grenville’s watch marked half an hour after sundown, when a shout from the bridge brought the whole party to its feet as one man, just in time to see a rocket dissolve in mid air into myriads of lovely shooting stars. A score of seconds later this was followed by a second rocket, whilst immediately afterwards, to Grenville’s infinite delight, a third of these shining messengers winged its fiery way across the heavens.
Over the silent veldt the Englishmen could hear the Mormon guards talking in excited tones, but suddenly both parties gave vent to one common cry of astonishment as a fourth rocket swiftly sailed up into the azure vault, and was instantly succeeded by a fifth, after which perfect stillness reigned for a full minute; then, all at once, a vivid streak of fire shot up like a flaming arrow from the Mormon city, now comparatively close at hand, and a moment later its many-hued stars were vieing with the glittering constellations of the sky. The answering rocket had been fired, and the Avenging Angels were on their way.