Chapter Seventeen.
“Quod Dixi Dixi.”
As soon as opportunity offered, Grenville closely questioned the Chieftain of the Stick as to the manner in which his party, commanded by Leigh, had been expelled from the cavern, where all had thought them so securely entrenched, and now it was that our friends received another striking proof of Zero’s intense cunning, and of the absolutely perfect knowledge which the man possessed regarding the mountain fastnesses in the immediate neighbourhood of his quarters.
Foolishly enough, the little band had failed to notice the singular fact that the air in the cave was at all times fresh and crisp, instead of being extremely heavy and “muggy,” as is ordinarily the case in long, unventilated caverns; and it was only now that they realised the truth, which was that Muzi Zimba’s home was situated in the very heart of an immense volcano, which had been extinct for ages, but whose final convulsions had probably torn the range in two, and formed the kloof, or pass, of the Dark Spirit of Evil.
This fact, however, was perfectly well-known to their astute and unscrupulous foe, and, appreciating his knowledge at its right strategic value, and sending on by night a large party provided with an immense rope-ladder, Zero had occupied the adjacent heights above and in the rear of Leigh’s position, and had actually dropped three hundred men down through the very crater of the extinct volcano; and the first intimation which the defenders of the cave had received of the presence of this large force in their immediate rear, came to them in the objectionable form of a well-aimed volley poured into their very backs at point-blank range, just at the moment of the delivery, by Zero with his main army, of a furious attack upon their defences in the mouth of the cave.
To turn their attention to the force ambushed in their rear would, of course, have been to let the slaver-chief in upon them, when the cavern would have literally become a shambles, and every man of the party would have died a dog’s death, for the ambushed foe was securely entrenched between the position of our friends and the entrance of the mountain burrow leading to the old well.
Choosing the least of two evils, Leigh drew his men together, and then launched them like a thunderbolt down the hill and into the very heart of Zero’s force, which they drove before them like chaff before the wind. Then, getting right through the ranks of the slavers, our friends, to the utter bewilderment of the foe, ignored altogether the cover of the forest, and commenced to fall back steadily upon Equatoria, in order, of course, to effect a junction with Grenville and Kenyon, whom Zero, perhaps naturally, imagined to be lying dead in the cavern along with poor Ewan and upwards of a score of the Atagbondo, who had fallen victims to the first treacherous and fatal discharge of the ambushed foe.
In the running fight which had ensued, the loss on the side of our friends had not been worth speaking of, whilst Leigh, with his repeater charged with explosive bullets, had dropped an enemy on every hundred yards of ground from the mountain to the skull-shaped knoll. But when the slavers once sighted the mighty volumes of smoke ascending from their burning town, they naturally scented something extremely wrong, and Zero’s active mind instantly jumped to the likeliest solution of the mystery, and told him that Grenville and the great Zulu, both of whom he hated beyond expression, were revenging themselves upon his force at home, and stamping out his town.
This caused the slaver to throw the whole of his available force, at any cost, upon the desperate little band, and drive them in upon the town pell-mell, with fearful loss upon both sides, for the Atagbondo had contested every inch of ground, with a stubborn valour little short of incredible when it is borne in mind that to rifle, spear, and axe, they could only oppose their rough-hewn wooden clubs.
Of the Zanzibari carriers nothing had been seen since the very commencement of the fight, for they had been placed for safety in the hindmost cavern of all, as being worse than useless to the fighting brigade; but whether the cowards were still in hiding there, or whether the ambushed slavers had found and massacred the wretched men forthwith, was, of course, as yet unknown, though, as the slavers in the cavern had followed our friends out when they fled the spot, it was more than probable that the fellows were still where their masters had left them.
Seeing, however, that the Mormon leader was almost certain to have their old location searched for the baggage and belongings of the party, Grenville thought it much better to make a virtue of necessity, and to communicate the position of affairs to the old man without further delay, adding that, on the whole, he almost thought he would prefer to let even the Mormons divide the goods and chattels of his friends, rather than see them calmly appropriated by such a wretched craven crew.
Our friend accordingly asked an audience of the aged Prophet—for by this high-sounding, but somewhat empty, title the old man was designated by his own people—and informed him that in the old hermit’s cave upon the northern mountains there lay very much valuable baggage and ammunition, which, unless it was instantly looked after, would probably be opened and appropriated by the thievish bearers, and he added that it would be quite unnecessary to send an armed force to take possession, as the wretched cowards would run away at the first sight of an armed man.
The prophet briefly acknowledged the information, and then dismissed Grenville, first, however, promising that the little party should have the use of their own well-stocked medicine-chest immediately upon its arrival in Equatoria—a favour which Kenyon had most earnestly impressed upon our friend the absolute necessity of inducing the Mormon to grant, if by any means in his power he could prevail upon him to do so.
Just before nightfall the Zanzibaris made their unwilling appearance, bearing their master’s baggage, and being driven along, like sheep for the slaughter, by a couple of formidable-looking and heavily-armed Mormons, and the whole property of the little band was at once deposited in the public hall, with the exception of the much-desired medicine-chest, which was delivered, without loss of time, to the waiting Kenyon, who particularly required its contents for immediate use in poor Leigh’s case, the complications of which were already causing this amateur doctor much mental worry and very grave anxiety, as the patient after becoming conscious for a few moments, had again relapsed into a state of complete coma.
That night all slept an uneasy, troubled sleep, for the common hall was packed to suffocation with men, women, and children; and as almost all the late combatants were more or less wounded—many very severely so—the building was more like a hospital than anything else, and no one was particularly sorry when the great doors were opened in the morning, and an announcement was made by the officer on guard that all must leave the place to obtain food, and that the Holy Three would sit in judgment upon the prisoners at high noon that very day.
This judgment was a very impressive affair, and was held in the public hall. In two long lines sat the combatants of the previous day, facing one another on opposite sides of a square, and all closely guarded by the Mormon host. At the head of the room sat the Ancient Prophet, supported by two other very venerable-looking men—these three being the accredited representatives in Africa of the Mormon Holy Three—whilst at the lower end of the square, huddled together like frightened sheep, were the women and children of Equatoria, who knew not what to expect from the stern judges, whose iron code of laws was, they were well aware, as unchanging as the laws of the Medes and Persians.
Kenyon, who was, of course, by profession, a physiognomist, completely forgot all his own personal danger in the absorbing interest which he took in the varied and changing expressions of the anxious faces which surrounded him on every hand.
The fallen and discomfited slavers looked what they were—partly sullen, partly indifferent, and wholly despairing, for well they knew that no mercy could be expected at the hands of the tribunal into whose clutches they had fallen; Zero, utterly mad with rage, and sulky as a bear; whilst it almost made the beholder laugh to notice the striking faces of Amaxosa the Zulu, and Barad, the Chieftain of the Stick. The eyes of these men were positively like coals of fire, and were absolutely riveted on the hated countenance of the slaver-chief, who seemed almost uneasy under the burning intensity of their threatening gaze.
Grenville, chivalrous as ever, was busily endeavouring to infuse hope and comfort into the heart of poor Lady Drelincourt, who was the only person in the assembly allowed to sit in the presence of the judges.
When perfect silence had been obtained, the old Prophet rose to his feet and commenced a direct and startling indictment of Zero and his band of ruffians, who had, he said, robbed and pillaged the fraternity of the Elect in the most impudent and bare-faced manner, and had, moreover, murdered out of hand a number of messengers, who had been sent to them with positive instructions from head-quarters, to return at once to Salt Lake City, report themselves without delay to the Holy Mormon Trinity, and render a full account of their stewardship; and in consequence of Zero’s disregarding these definite and repeated commands, the Prophet had, he explained, been sent out with a very great array of the Saints by the Three Unsleeping Ones, who watched over the welfare of the one true faith, and whose written instructions he carried with him, to demolish the stronghold of these audacious rebels, and to execute fully retributive justice upon these men of sin, whose evil and wicked doings had come up, with very evil savour, into the nostrils of the Holy Ones who dwelt across the seas, whilst in Africa he had himself found that, owing to the outrageous conduct of these reprobates, the very name of Mormonism had become a by-word for all that was wholly and irredeemably bad.
The Prophet then brought forward a number of witnesses to prove unauthorised deeds of violence and of blood against Zero and his band, all being without exception classed in the one dreadful category, and the testimony of one of these not only proved the slaver-chief to have been guilty of countless murders in Africa, but deposed that, in the speaker’s own un-regenerate days, he had himself been an eye-witness of the shooting of Mr Harmsworth in New York—this diabolical and cold-blooded murder having, as Kenyon had opined, been committed by the hand of Zero, in revenge for what he considered to be a personal slight.
The aged Prophet then consulted briefly with the two elders who were his co-representatives in Africa of the Mormon Trinity, and, once again rising to his feet, briefly and clearly pronounced sentence of death.
The whole of the renegade band would die by the rifle at sundown that very night, and their carcases would be thrown to the wild beasts of prey, whilst Zero himself would be crucified at noon on the following day, and his body would be left to the vultures and the crows.
The sentence was evidently what all had foreseen; for, with the exception of a very few despairing shrieks from the women, there was neither voice nor sound.
The old Mormon concluded his harangue by saying that the women and children would be conveyed by his men to the nearest seaport town, and their passage paid to any civilised country they desired to reach, after which the Brotherhood of the Saints entirely washed their hands of them. For a brief instant one could have heard a pin drop, then from the poor creatures at the bottom of that living square there went up one mighty gasp of intense relief, followed by a babel of blessings upon their ancient judge, from which it was quite clear that the poor wretches, who were, most of them, more sinned against than sinning, had fully expected to find themselves and their little ones devoted to the same red grave as their wicked lords and masters.
As the old Prophet ceased speaking, Kenyon suddenly started to his feet, holding up his hand to attract the attention of the judges, and when silence again reigned supreme, and when every eye in that vast assemblage was curiously fixed upon him, quietly but clearly, he spoke out.
“Sir,” he said, “I know, and fully admit, your powers of judgment here, by the right of might; but you also are an American, as I am, and I, therefore, ask that, in courtesy to the Stars and Stripes, you will even yield to my prior claim upon the body of this scoundrel, Zero, and allow the executioner of the States, to end his sinful life.”
“Who art thou, and whence knowest thou me?” queried the astonished Mormon.
“I, sir,” was the cool reply, “am Stanforth Kenyon, of the New York Detective Force, and I have followed this fellow hither from the New World, just as you have done, and, having been the first to find him, I, therefore, think my claim the best, and my case, the Harmsworth murder, on American ground, being now indubitably proved by your own witness, this Zero can no longer now escape the law.”
“By repute, I know you well, Detective Kenyon,” came the answer, “but Uncle Sam, for once, goes empty-handed. The Elect, as you very well know, recognise no law outside themselves, and allow no interference with their affairs, on the part of the unbelieving and accursed Gentiles. Nay,” as Kenyon attempted to speak again, “I cannot hear you further. I sit here, with my colleagues, as the representatives of the heaven-taught Holy Three, and what I have said I have said.”
Then, after another short conference with his fellows, the old Mormon announced that the business of the meeting was now concluded, and that his decision with regard to the disposal of the remaining prisoners would be announced at noon next day.
All were at once returned to their prison in the common hall, with the exception of the wretched slavers, who, to the number of nearly three hundred, were immediately led out to execution, and were shot, like mad dogs, in accordance with the unchanging decree of the Mormon Holy Three, whilst Zero, heavily ironed, was forthwith consigned to the condemned cell in the public building, knowing that he must, in a few hours, suffer the extreme agonies of the awful death by torture, which he had himself often and often inflicted upon his helpless and unresisting fellow-creatures.