“I think so, Alf; for if we can only anger them into making an attack and coming into easy range, we’ll treat them to another dose such as we gave them at the Table Rock.”
The Mormons, however, were not to be drawn, and when darkness came down, they had made no further hostile movement. The Zulus now begged leave to slip down to the spring with their spears, and before they had been gone many minutes a fearful shriek was heard, announcing the death of another Mormon. A discharge of fire-arms followed, and by the flashes of the guns those on the plateau could see that a number of Mormons were quickly falling back to their own encampment, and upon these Grenville and Leigh opened fire with their Winchesters, doing considerable execution.
The Zulus were soon back again, bringing three more rifles and ammunition, of which they had forcibly despoiled the late owners.
Soon after this the moon rose, and the little party on the plateau found that the war was only about to begin according to the Mormon calculations.
The great tent was fully lighted up, and near to it the defenders of the rock could see what looked like a stand of arms. On this head they were quickly undeceived, for all at once a rocket rose from its rest and came directly at their position, striking the wall above their heads and falling upon the plateau, where it hissed about quite harmlessly, but alarmed the girls very much indeed.
Grenville ordered them into the cave, and had all the ammunition carefully stored away, and before half-a-dozen of these fiery messengers had reached them, sent two or three of the Mormons’ own bridge signal rockets into the very midst of the mob, the last one setting fire to the tent and causing several people—presumably the wondrous Holy Three and their iniquitous satellites—to scuttle about in a most undignified fashion.
The little band then sent a few shell-bullets into the enemy’s camp, where it was evident they caused fearful damage and confusion, the whole crowd promptly rushing off until they were nearly a mile distant from the Rock.
Our friends now lay down to rest again, as if nothing had happened, Grenville still keeping guard. The night passed away, however, without further disturbance, and when morning came, there was not a single enemy in sight.
After breakfast Winfield elected to go hunting with Amaxosa; his wrist was now practically well, he said, and he felt as if a little exercise would do him good. Grenville, whilst lazily smoking his pipe, was watching the motions of the pair, who were endeavouring, a quarter of a mile away, to stalk several head of game, when he sprang to his feet with a hurried exclamation of fear, and seizing his rifle, pitched it forward, and apparently taking aim at Winfield, fired quickly. Even as he did so a puff of white smoke shot up, apparently from the ground, within forty yards of Winfield’s position, and throwing up his hands he fell prone upon his face. The Zulu promptly sprang forward, and lifting the body in his arms commenced to carry it away, whilst two more shots spirted out from the ground, both fortunately being wide of the mark.
In another instant Leigh was down the rugged path and helping Amaxosa to carry Winfield up to the plateau. Grenville anxiously came forward as they reached their destination and laid down their ghastly burden. “Is he dead?” he asked in broken tones.