Chapter Eighteen.
More Dark Days.
We must now return perforce to the little party at the plateau, and observe the actions of its members which led up to the awful dénouement portrayed in the preceding chapter. After the departure of the Zulus, Leigh had spent a dreadful night of it, the suspense and anxiety of these long silent hours almost driving him mad.
It was the last cast of the dice, and he well knew that if his beloved cousin was not rescued now, he never would be, for the failure of one such audacious attempt as this would put the Mormons strictly on their guard, and any further trials would simply lead to battle and murder and sudden death for all his party.
His state, therefore, may be better imagined than described, when Amaxosa returned alone in the grey dawn with lagging steps and dejected mien, and without even raising his head to look Leigh in the face, quietly said, “All is lost, Inkoos.” Then with an exceeding bitter cry, “Alas! my father, why did I leave thee? Alas! my brother, the people of the Undi has lost its leader, the oak-tree has lost its strongest branch, and I, Amaxosa, am the last surviving chief of the ancient race. Ow, my brother, why didst thou leave me? Thou, Myzukulwa, the chief of the Undi, wast a man after my own heart; thou wast swifter than an eagle, and stronger than a lion. Pride of the Undi, why hast thou left us? Thou art gone, my brother, though thy glory has been even as the sun in his noonday brightness; who that saw thee yesternight would have believed that thou couldst thus have died? Yet hast thou fallen like a warrior, and thrice one hundred foes of the evil men, the witch-finders, have gone before to do thee service and to clear thy path to the shades. The face of the sun is hidden by storm clouds, and the heart of Amaxosa is very heavy. Pride of the Undi, how art thou fallen!”
The Zulu then sat himself down, with his face between his knees, and never moved until the girls, who had been awakened by his arrival, put in their hurried appearance and tearfully begged him to tell them all.
Pulling himself together, the Zulu related the events of the night, adding his own account of his arrival at the glade with the quagga, only to find Myzukulwa lying in a great lake of gore, surrounded by the Mormons he had killed.
Leaving the animal tied to a tree, he had hurried after the party, but could not overtake it; he had, however, seen Grenville’s returning footprints on the grass, and knew he had been retaken and carried off to the Mormon stronghold, whence it would be hopeless to again try and rescue him.
Amaxosa had then returned and buried his brother, taking good care to leave the Mormons lying where they had fallen; and having performed the last kind offices to his dead, he had at once returned to the plateau with the news.