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?”