Chapter Three.
A Leap in the Dark.
As the party sullenly descended the Pass, no one seemed in a conversational mood, but Leigh noticed that his cousin took a very easy pace, and urged them to feed well, just before the sun set.
No sooner was the darkness fairly upon them than Grenville turned short in his tracks and quietly said, “I’m going back, Alf, and I’m going through with this. There’s a secret up there, and I believe it’s a black one, and I’ve no intention of playing into the hands of these rascals by running away.”
“But, my dear boy,” remonstrated Leigh, with a rueful face, “you don’t know your way into the mountain; you aren’t a bird to fly over it, and you’ll only get yourself shot.”
“I believe I do know my way into the mountain, and I hope I shan’t get shot; so come along, old fellow,” replied his cousin.
Grumbling and arguing, Leigh turned to follow, and very soon Grenville imposed the strictest silence upon his companions.
The darkness was now something almost tangible, but after walking—or, rather, feeling—their way at a funereal pace for a couple of hours, the murmur of the waterfall broke upon their ears, and the stars now beginning to grow bright, greater caution than ever became necessary. Soon the trio were flat on the ground, wriggling along like three gigantic lizards over the rough, knobbly rocks, which called forth many a subdued groan from poor Leigh. The advance was, however, continued, all obstacles to the contrary notwithstanding, and in another hour the party lay securely hidden within a stone-throw of the waterfall.
A little later, becoming dissatisfied with his position, Grenville drew his party back some fifty yards under the cover of a rock, and then proceeded to act in a most singular manner. Divesting himself of his hat, jacket, and hunting-shirt, he slipped a brace of six-shooters into his hip-pockets, and, directing Leigh and the Zulu to stay where they where—unless they heard him blow a small whistle, which he always carried—he left the pair wondering at his extraordinary movements, and gradually and cautiously approached the Fall. Arrived there, his conduct became curious to a degree, for, lying flat on the rock, on the very edge of the basin indeed, where the spray from the cataract fell in a continuous and blinding shower, Grenville first commenced feeling about inside the rush of the water at the very back of the Fall, and finally buried himself, head and shoulders, in the water of the basin, frequently raising his head to take breath. After he had expended quite ten minutes in this edifying manner, he gave a grunt indicative of satisfaction, rose dripping wet, and retired into concealment behind the nearest rock, watching the Fall like a lynx.
Soon his patience was well rewarded, for a wonderful and beautiful thing happened. In a single instant the Fall grew gloriously light and beautiful, and the foaming, flashing surface of the water seemed by the touch of some fairy wand transformed into a stupendous rainbow of indescribable loveliness, as the changing lights appeared to come and go through the driving rifts of steaming, gauze-like vapour.
Grenville smiled, and made himself, if possible, still smaller amongst the stones; a slight splashing was heard, and in another moment the light went out suddenly and the Fall resumed its normal appearance—a white, angry-looking streak of sliding foam, clearly outlined against the dark background of rock. And now Grenville could see by the starlight the forms of fully a dozen men who appeared to have sprung from the earth; crouching down, he lay for some moments breathless and motionless as the rocks beneath him, but, hearing no footsteps, and cautiously raising his head, he found no one within his limited range of vision. Hazardous though the act was, Grenville crawled out, snake-like, to the spot where he had seen the strange party take its stand, and, by following the damp feel of the rock where wet footsteps had passed, quickly satisfied himself that the enemy had proceeded down the Pass. Quietly rejoining his anxious friends, he led them back, after a brief consultation, to the basin at the foot of the Fall, into which each silently dropped in turn, and instantly vanished from sight.
A few moments later three dripping, panting forms stood whispering together upon a rocky ledge, which was in fact the entrance to a vast cave, by which, as Grenville had cleverly surmised, their assailants passed through the base of the mountain-range and obtained access to their mysterious country beyond.
The air, though dense with a heavy, noxious odour, was still very refreshing to the party after their dive; but Grenville soon reminded the others that they had no time to lose, and, warning them to look to their arms, ammunition and matches, all of which had been most carefully enveloped in mackintosh ground-sheets, himself proceeded to strike a light. Now the striking of a match is a very trifling affair at ordinary times, but, with a dark and doubtless vast unknown before them, each waited anxiously to see what the tiny flame would reveal. One brief instant it shed its feeble light upon their pallid faces, then, in an endeavour to pierce the apparently limitless gloom, Grenville raised the match above his head, and at that very moment there was a wild, hissing rush, and the cavern stood revealed in a blinding glare of light. The match had evidently ignited by accident a reservoir of natural gas, and this, in the shape of an enormous stream of fire, now hung globe-like from a rift in the roof of rock, where it arched a score of feet above their heads.
One glance was sufficient to tell the merest novice in such matters that this cavern had at some distant date formed the channel of one of those underground rivers by no means uncommon in Africa. What had been the bed of the stream was, however, filled in with earth, and was now to all intents and purposes a very passable road, which, after mounting a short hill that served in fact to keep back the water from the basin, ran straight before them as far as the light could penetrate.
The first act of the whole party was to remove themselves from the intense heat thrown out by the gas; their next, to draw their pistol-cartridges and slip fresh ones into the chambers; and hardly was this done when a startled exclamation, uttered just behind them, caused all to turn hurriedly, only to find themselves confronted by a most repulsive-looking white man, who stood dripping unpleasantly upon the rocky ledge and regarding them with a scowling face.
The newcomer appeared altogether unarmed, and our friends promptly rushed at him; but he incontinently turned tail, and dived out through the entrance, followed like a flash of light by Myzukulwa.
The cousins waited in anxious suspense for close upon a minute, and then the great Zulu silently appeared upon the rock and lay gasping for breath. Soon, however, regaining his wind—
“Inkoos,” he said, “he was too quick for me; the coward ran away down the pass; but first he fired his gun, and it was answered by another gun a mile away.”
It was quite clear that the man had been a sentinel near to their old sleeping-place, and, seeing the Fall suddenly light up of its own accord, had come down to examine the unusual phenomenon.
The three now fell to eagerly discussing their position. If they were holding the only entrance to the passage, they could with their revolvers defy almost any number of men attacking through the water; but if, on the other hand, there was more than one way of access to the cave, or if another hostile body, attracted by the firing, should come up the river Pass, our friends would be placed between the devil and the deep sea with a vengeance.
Then, again, if the foe had any means of extinguishing the light from outside, the trio would be entirely at their mercy.
This light was evidently a pure gas generated in the mountain, and used by these strange people to light them to the entrance of the cave; but how they extinguished it, and how without its help they followed their subterranean road through the absolutely inky gloom, was a mystery to the adventurers.
On looking about, however, they discovered a bundle of torches made of a resinous woody fibre, and lighting one of these in the gas-flame, Grenville proceeded to examine the road and see what cover, if any, it might offer. Hardly had he taken a dozen steps when a stream of water poured through the fissure in the roof of rock, extinguishing the gas in an instant. Grenville quickly whispered to his friends to bring the torches and follow him, as without proper light to shoot by it was impossible for them to hold the entrance to the passage. “Bring every single torch you can find,” he said, “and keep your eyes skinned for any more lying about the road. We’ll keep these beggars in darkness if possible; and once let us get to daylight, and we’ll fight them if need be.”
And now by the light of one torch the party proceeded in single file at a good speed, for the roadway was fair, and, when the first hill had been climbed, proved decidedly on the down grade. This surprised Grenville, as he had been of opinion that the water had formerly come from the inside of the cavern and emptied itself into the basin; the reverse, however, had evidently been the case.
After they had travelled about half a mile, the road, to Grenville’s delight, twisted almost at a right angle—this would, of course, hide the light from their pursuers—and directly after the turn had been negotiated, Leigh called attention to a niche in the rock where several more torches were found; these they promptly annexed, and the party again hurried on, the air momentarily growing fresher and keener.
Truly this cavernous road was a strange and awesome affair; the roof here and there vanished from human ken in utter and indescribable blackness, but uniformly it hung some fifteen to twenty feet above their heads, and had been worn quite smooth by the rapid action of water, but was quickly becoming a vast bed of growing stalactites, which flashed back the rays of the torch like a sparkling sea of vivid radiance set with many-hued and lovely diadems.
After the party had accomplished quite five miles, Grenville suddenly called a halt, whilst all listened intently for a moment, and then, having first examined his matches, he extinguished the torch, and, holding one another’s hands, the trio crept cautiously forward. Despite all their care, however, in turning a corner some hundred yards further they fairly walked into another sentinel, who promptly flew at their throats, and for a full minute Pandemonium seemed let loose in the bowels of the mountain. Grenville, with his customary coolness, quickly extricated himself from the scrimmage and struck a light, only to find Leigh and an awkward-looking customer locked in a deadly grip. The draught here proved strong, and the match was blown out as soon as lighted; but its flash showed the Zulu all he needed to know—enemy from friend—and in another instant the sentinel lay a corpse, and Myzukulwa was eulogising his war-club. Quickly the party passed on, and in another minute found themselves at the top of a massive stone stairway, and again under the lovely canopy of heaven, with the welcome moon shimmering down upon them in all the weird, glittering glory of an Equatorial African midnight.
The scene revealed to them by the moonlight was inexpressibly beautiful and magnificent; below them some hundred feet only the rolling veldt in all its mysterious silence swept sheer away as far as the eye could reach, whilst to the right and left towered the majestic spurs of the mountain-range, their snowcapped crests gleaming white under the brilliant moon, and rendered even more vivid by contrast with the awful chasms which here and there rent the precipitous rocks with unfathomed depths of yawning blackness.
No sign of any living creature could they see; yet each knew that it would be sheer madness to strike out into the unknown veldt, without water, almost without food, and with the knowledge that a few minutes, more or less, would in all likelihood bring their pursuers to the head of the stairway, whence, under such a clear light, the movements of their party over the scrub would be distinctly visible for miles. After a brief colloquy, they descended the stairway and glided along the wall of rock, stepping on the stones and keeping carefully in the shadow, meantime seeking keen-eyed for a secure hiding-place adjacent to water.
Almost within gun-shot of the stairway, the party hit upon a narrow cañon in the rocks, into which they entered, and, posting Leigh as a sentinel, Grenville consulted with Myzukulwa, and, after they had whispered together for a few moments, the Zulu slipped out of the opening and was instantly engulfed in the shadows of the mountain. Taking up his position opposite his cousin, Grenville looked at his watch and found it was after two o’clock in the morning; the pair then proceeded carefully to wipe out their Winchester rifles, and each felt happier when he lowered his gun with the magazine chock-full of cartridges. These rifles, though made on the Winchester pattern, carried a heavy shell-bullet, and had proved themselves uncommonly serviceable weapons amongst the heaviest game, and, as both men were crack shots, any hostile person getting within range was likely to have an unpleasantly hot time of it. The Zulu alone carried no rifle, but he had so far overcome the traditions of his race as to use a heavy service revolver, whilst each of the cousins possessed a brace of Smith and Wesson’s six-shooters. This and the knowledge that they had plenty of ammunition, having only parted with their bearers two days before at the foot of the Pass, was reassuring. And now, as the pair awaited the Zulu’s return, a very curious and fearsome thing happened: the cañon, which, when they entered it, had been as dark as Erebus, was being gradually lighted by the moon, and, as the silvery radiance illumined the centre of the gulf, a guarded exclamation broke from the astonished watchers as they saw that the cañon terminated abruptly some two hundred yards from them in a gigantic wall of apparently solid rock; yet from the very centre of this mighty but otherwise commonplace mass looked out a prodigious and perfect model of a human face, about five times the size of life, complete in every detail, and most diabolical in its expression; the eyes, from which streamed scintillating rays of fire, appeared to be rigidly examining every nook and corner of the cañon, and the cousins, who felt somewhat creepy, almost involuntarily drew outside the entrance and kept close in the shadow.
At this juncture a cloud crossed the moon, and it was at once evident that the unearthly-looking figure borrowed no light from the heavenly orb, for the exaggerated lineaments showed up as if cut with a sword of fire out of the inky blackness of the chasm, and on its brow they could now read, in English, the words:—
“The Eyes of the Holy Three are Unsleeping.”
And each knew he was gazing upon the fateful and universally-hated emblem of the false and filthy prophet of the Mormon creed. The cloud passed from the moon, and even as it did so, the light behind the hideous face died out, and the wall of rock regained its normal appearance, scarcely revealing to the straining eyes of the watchers that the counterfeit presentment of the human head had ever existed, save in their excited imaginations.
At this moment the Zulu rejoined the cousins, but as both eagerly welcomed him, and were about to speak, another diversion occurred. A gleaming, rushing thread of living fire suddenly shot up from the stairway and cut its way across the heavens, bursting at its extreme height into a shower of blazing and meteoric stars; and hardly had its radiance died out, than it was followed by a second and similar messenger, which in its turn was succeeded by a third, and then all was again as still as death.
“Three rockets,” said Grenville, “meaning three enemies in the camp; so look out for squalls. Watch keenly where the answer comes from.” And hardly had he spoken, when a single answering rocket was fired, probably a score of miles away, across the veldt.