Chapter Twenty Seven.A Night in the Reeds.The day’s long march had tired them, and wanting the sociable aid of a fire, they soon fell asleep, each one on his own bed of reeds, lulled by the continuous ripple and murmur of the waving mass. The two blacks slept with their blankets completely drawn over their heads, so that no sound disturbed them, but the other three in turn would start, and with lifted head peer vainly into the blackness round them, and twice Laura reached out a hand on either side to feel if her protectors were there, and each time the hand instinctively was grasped in a strong palm.At a deep, low growl of some prowling animal, perchance the lion seen on the march, Hume sat up gently and cradled his gun on his knees, giving ear to the soft, mysterious creeping noises, as though a legion of elves were whispering in the reeds, and eyeing the stars for comfort. As he listened he heard the beast outside move off, uttering a deep-drawn sigh, and he was about to lie down again, when he fancied he heard the sound of another animal sniffing. The noise, however, was not repeated, or the heavy breathing of the sleepers prevented him from tracing it, but he was on his guard again, with every sense on the alert. He could feel that something was stealing in upon them, and the slight path they could not avoid making when they entered was no doubt being used. He had fixed his couch opposite the entrance, and held his rifle with the muzzle towards it; but if his suspicions were correct, and something was approaching, the movement was more stealthy than the advance of a footless serpent. Presently, however, raising his glance until he dimly outlined the waving heads of the reeds against the stars, he saw a reed bend slowly away, and then another, each one disappearing as though gently drawn down.There could only be one solution to that mystery. The reeds must have been cut at their base, and then gently lowered, and whose work could this be but that of a human foe, patient and cunning? At once he cocked the trigger, and the sharp click woke Webster with a start.“Ssh!” Hume hissed, while still keeping his eyes fixed on the reed tops.The click of the gun and the noise of the waking man had been heard, for the movement stopped. The moments went slowly by, and for the one who was in ignorance the suspense was keen.“What is it?” whispered Webster at last.Hume bent over to reply. “I think we have been tracked. Waken Sirayo.”Webster laid his hand on the chief’s blanket, and slowly drew it from his face.He saw the gleam of the fierce eyes as the cold night air at once awakened the sleeper; then there was a deep-drawn sniff, and without a sound, the Zulu was sitting up.Hume still kept his eyes fixed on the reeds, but noting no further movement, he rose gently to his feet, and slipping over the bundle of reeds, sank to the ground, and with his rifle held before him, with one hand crawled slowly to the edge without hint to anyone. On returning, however, he felt on either side, and found reeds carefully laid after being cut.He had made noise enough, and on his return to the enclosure he found all the party astir.“There is no doubt of it,” he said; “we have been followed.”“Yes,” said Sirayo; “there are people afoot.”“How do you know, chief, since you slept when this man stole in on us? and how he came, and when he went, is to me a mystery. He cut the reeds as he advanced, and lowered each one to the ground. Before he came I heard the sigh of a lion.”“Mawoh!” exclaimed the Gaika.“Well, Klaas, what is it?”“It is the wizard; the same who came to the kraal after the lion sprang over. They go in couples.”“It may be the same,” muttered Hume; “what do you say, Sirayo?”“I know not,” said the Zulu gloomily, “for the ways of those men are dark; but there are people afoot; I can hear them now.”There was a long spell of silence after this, as they listened, with a feeling at their hearts that if there were people moving it was in search of them.“Eweh! it is true!” broke in Klaas; “they are men on the war-trail, and they sing of battles.”“I hear nothing,” said Laura, trembling.“Nor I,” growled Webster.“Neither do I,” said Hume; “but these men do. If they sing, however, they must be halting round their fires, and if they are after us there is nothing to fear now; but we must shift our quarters before we are trapped. What do you say, Sirayo?”“Yebo, we must fly to the mountain and hide. No man can live long in these reeds, and a woman would be quickly struck down by the sickness.”“Yes, we must reach the mountains.”“What!” said Webster; “at first we fly to the reeds, to escape the people on the hills—people we cannot see; and now you ask us to fly to the mountains to escape people we cannot hear. It seems to me we are dodging shadows.”“You are right,” said Hume wearily; “for what but a shadow could have stolen in like this man did just now while I watched and listened? For all we know he may have returned.”“Don’t!” gasped Laura; “when I look round I see eyes staring at me, and in every noise I hear a footstep. It is horrible, this place, and the air seems heavy.”“Let us get out, then,” said Webster; “but it is a mystery to me why we should have entered a place which is now considered to be a trap.”“It is no use discussing the matter; let us quickly get our traps together;” and suiting the action to the word, Hume rolled up his blanket. Luckily the bundles containing the kits were still intact.Soon they were all ready, and then they followed Hume deeper into the reeds, until one of the numerous game tracks was crossed, upon which they followed it to the edge, coming out about two hundred yards below the spot where they entered. Then, treading softly to leave no spoor, they advanced for a considerable distance, when the pace was quickened up the rising and rock-strewn ground. And now they were out in the open they heard, unmistakably, the murmur of many voices, and caught, afar off, on the edge of the reeds, the reflection of fires. Their fears at once saw enemies seated about those fires, and gave them energy to pursue their way. Gradually the ground grew rougher, the incline more steep; but Sirayo unerringly kept to a ridge that wound tortuously up among valleys whose growing depth could only be felt. Up and up they went doggedly, with bodies bent forward to the incline, and the two friends took Laura each by an arm, and always spurring them on came the faint echo of that deep-throated war-chant.“I can go no further,” said Laura presently, with her hand to her side.“Rest awhile,” said Hume gently; and she sank to the ground, while the men stood near drawing deep breaths.“The sun is soon up,” said Sirayo, “and the watchers on the mountain will see us.”Webster thrust his gun into Hume’s hands, and, picking her up, went staggering on a few ineffectual yards.“Thank you,” she said, as she sank to the ground, and at the words Hume recalled the stinging rebuff he had received when he had lifted her in his arms on theSwift. Time and the alarms of many dangers had since then tamed her spirit to indifference as to the degree of respect due to her, and she would not have revolted had the Gaika carried her; but Hume read in her thanks a deeper meaning.“The horizon on the east is brightening, and in an hour there will be light. Let us find shelter, and rest the day,” he said.“Go on,” she said; “but as for me, I will stay here.”“And I, too,” said Webster.“Stay, Klaas,” said Hume quietly; then went off with Sirayo up the ridge.“He has left you to me,” murmured Webster.“I am content,” she said; “his energy tires me.”“I care not, if we are together.”“The baas has gone to find a hiding-place; he will return,” said Klaas.“Of course,” said Webster bitterly; “it is of our safety he is thinking, and the mischief is that I am completely helpless in my ignorance.”“I am too tired to talk,” she muttered; and he sat looking out over the dark expanse to a light in the eastern sky.In a few minutes Hume and Sirayo were back again.“There is a place above here where we can halt against the shelter of a precipice, which will screen us from any people above. It is but a short distance.”“It is so restful here,” she said.“Persuade her,” he said, turning to Webster.“I have not the will, even if I had the privilege,” he replied; “she is tired.”“Come,” said Hume harshly; “this is no time to be nice. We can take no risks, and must reach the shelter.”She rose up, and disdaining any offer of help, walked on; and so, in silence, they continued until the precipice was reached. Here among some huge boulders they spread their blankets, and in a minute Laura and the two blacks were in deep slumber.“Sleep, Frank,” said Webster; “you will wear yourself out.”“So much the better for you,” he said.“Look here, Frank, you are the leader, and I follow you with my eyes shut; but heavens above, man, my helplessness breeds in me a feeling of desperation, which finds vent now and again in bad humour. You must bear with me.”“Ay, and what of myself? I have brought you all here, and am answerable for your safety. That is anxiety enough without the additional weight of your ill humour and her dislike.”“It will be all right when the morning breaks; now sleep, my lad.”Frank stretched himself out and Webster remained on guard till the dawn broke in a red glory, and the heavy mists began to roll up from the river. Then Sirayo and Klaas arose and went away to a fountain, which gurgled from the rock, to wash the sleep from their eyes, and to polish their white teeth with bits of stick. Then one of them made a fire with dry sticks, trusting to the curling wraiths of mist to hide the slight smoke, and the other filled the kettle. They built up a screen of rocks to hide the blaze, then sat down to warm their hands and feet. Then Hume woke, and when the coffee was ready Laura stirred under her blanket and lifted her head to look around.“For heaven’s sake, Laura,” said Webster, “do go and wash that hideous mask from your face! It is a nightmare.”“Thank you,” she said stiffly, but, nevertheless, was prompt to take the hint, Webster leading her to the fountain, while Hume looked after them with a sigh. His face had a worn and anxious look, and his cheeks seemed to have suddenly hollowed.“Laura,” said Webster gravely; “we did not behave well to Frank last night, and he feels it deeply. Be kind to him.”She looked at him with a flash in her eyes. “You presume too much,” she said coldly; but, nevertheless, on returning to the fire, she took her place next to Hume, and treated him with a winning deference that soon smoothed the lines from his face.Then they sat and watched the mist fade and the country below appear suddenly fresh and brilliant in the soft light, and presently, as they looked, they saw a band of warriors move quickly along the edge of the reeds. In the clear light they were plainly seen even to the colour of their shields, and it was noticed that at intervals small bodies broke away to enter the reeds, while the rest followed the lead of a solitary warrior who went ahead.“They are hunting,” said Hume.“Yebo—they hunt us; and the men who enter the reeds are stationed in game tracks. It is good; they think we are still there.”“And if we had remained,” said Laura, “could we not have hidden?”“No, Inkosikasi; those men who continue will presently enter in the rear of our retreat. They will then spread out and advance. If we were there we should be driven ahead like game, and those stationed in the paths would see us sooner or later. Oh, ay, it is a good plan they have made, but we have made a better.”She put her hand on Hume’s shoulder.“You were right, Frank.”They watched in breathless interest, and it followed as Sirayo had said. When the main body of warriors reached the spot they entered the reeds, leaving half a dozen men on the outside, who turned and followed the line of beaters.“Two of those are white men,” said Klaas; “they carry guns.”“The devils,” growled Webster; “there is some mystery in the hate with which they pursue us.”“No mystery,” answered Laura; “they have the key to the Golden Rock, and know we are in search of it.”“I’m afraid it is so,” said Hume. “They do not shout as they would if they were after game; and, see, a buffalo has broken cover, and the men on the outside do not fire.”For an hour the man hunt went on, and from time to time game of all kinds broke out, circled round unnoticed, and re-entered the reeds. At last a gun was fired as a signal, and the men straggled out in twos and threes till the whole body had re-assembled about a mile below the point they had entered. They remained for some time, after which they lit fires, while half a dozen men again advanced, quartering the ground along the reeds, searching evidently for spoor.“It is well we were careful to leave no spoor when quitting the reeds,” muttered Hume, as he brushed his hand across his brow.Slowly the six men advanced until they were opposite the retreat, when they again entered the reeds, remaining hidden for some time, to emerge at last from the very game track followed by the fugitives.Hume grasped his rifle, while Sirayo’s hand felt for his assegai.The men stayed a few minutes gesticulating; then four of them started back for the main body, leaving two, who moved about for some time with their bodies bent. Then, straightening up, they advanced swiftly.“Good God!” muttered Hume; “they have hit off the spoor. Behind the rocks!”Sirayo said a word to the Gaika, and, slipping off their blankets, they each took an assegai and went down, one on each side of the ridge, taking so much advantage of the shelter, that, after a few moments, even Hume could not follow them.“Have they deserted?” said Laura, with a gasp.“No,” said Hume, in a suppressed whisper; “they are taking the only measure that will save us. They are brave men and faithful, and our lives depend on them.”“It is true,” she murmured, while her eyes grew large. “I said it when you first told me of the accursed Rock—it can only be reached through blood.”From the shelter of the rocks they saw the two men breast the ridge, following on the spoor like bloodhounds, and stopping at intervals to look over the ground ahead. Gradually their pace slackened, until, when they had reached the place where Laura had rested, they halted, and seemed reluctant to advance further; indeed, after looking long at the precipice which crossed the ridge, they turned to retreat.They were about four hundred yards off, and Hume raised his rifle.“If they escape,” he said, “the whole crowd will be about us, and if I fire it will also draw them.”At this moment the men sprang aside as though suddenly alarmed, and in the same breath the two concealed foes hurled themselves upon them. There was a shout, the sharp click of assegais, a death hug and tumble, and two men arose to continue their flight down the hill.The three spectators looked at each other horrified.“Our men are killed,” said Webster, moistening his lips.“This is the beginning of the end,” she whispered; “poor Klaas, who was so willing, and Sirayo so strong and brave.”Hume looked after the two men with despair in his eyes. They reached the bottom of the ridge, shouted after the four men, who were half-way to the main body, and then entered the reeds.
The day’s long march had tired them, and wanting the sociable aid of a fire, they soon fell asleep, each one on his own bed of reeds, lulled by the continuous ripple and murmur of the waving mass. The two blacks slept with their blankets completely drawn over their heads, so that no sound disturbed them, but the other three in turn would start, and with lifted head peer vainly into the blackness round them, and twice Laura reached out a hand on either side to feel if her protectors were there, and each time the hand instinctively was grasped in a strong palm.
At a deep, low growl of some prowling animal, perchance the lion seen on the march, Hume sat up gently and cradled his gun on his knees, giving ear to the soft, mysterious creeping noises, as though a legion of elves were whispering in the reeds, and eyeing the stars for comfort. As he listened he heard the beast outside move off, uttering a deep-drawn sigh, and he was about to lie down again, when he fancied he heard the sound of another animal sniffing. The noise, however, was not repeated, or the heavy breathing of the sleepers prevented him from tracing it, but he was on his guard again, with every sense on the alert. He could feel that something was stealing in upon them, and the slight path they could not avoid making when they entered was no doubt being used. He had fixed his couch opposite the entrance, and held his rifle with the muzzle towards it; but if his suspicions were correct, and something was approaching, the movement was more stealthy than the advance of a footless serpent. Presently, however, raising his glance until he dimly outlined the waving heads of the reeds against the stars, he saw a reed bend slowly away, and then another, each one disappearing as though gently drawn down.
There could only be one solution to that mystery. The reeds must have been cut at their base, and then gently lowered, and whose work could this be but that of a human foe, patient and cunning? At once he cocked the trigger, and the sharp click woke Webster with a start.
“Ssh!” Hume hissed, while still keeping his eyes fixed on the reed tops.
The click of the gun and the noise of the waking man had been heard, for the movement stopped. The moments went slowly by, and for the one who was in ignorance the suspense was keen.
“What is it?” whispered Webster at last.
Hume bent over to reply. “I think we have been tracked. Waken Sirayo.”
Webster laid his hand on the chief’s blanket, and slowly drew it from his face.
He saw the gleam of the fierce eyes as the cold night air at once awakened the sleeper; then there was a deep-drawn sniff, and without a sound, the Zulu was sitting up.
Hume still kept his eyes fixed on the reeds, but noting no further movement, he rose gently to his feet, and slipping over the bundle of reeds, sank to the ground, and with his rifle held before him, with one hand crawled slowly to the edge without hint to anyone. On returning, however, he felt on either side, and found reeds carefully laid after being cut.
He had made noise enough, and on his return to the enclosure he found all the party astir.
“There is no doubt of it,” he said; “we have been followed.”
“Yes,” said Sirayo; “there are people afoot.”
“How do you know, chief, since you slept when this man stole in on us? and how he came, and when he went, is to me a mystery. He cut the reeds as he advanced, and lowered each one to the ground. Before he came I heard the sigh of a lion.”
“Mawoh!” exclaimed the Gaika.
“Well, Klaas, what is it?”
“It is the wizard; the same who came to the kraal after the lion sprang over. They go in couples.”
“It may be the same,” muttered Hume; “what do you say, Sirayo?”
“I know not,” said the Zulu gloomily, “for the ways of those men are dark; but there are people afoot; I can hear them now.”
There was a long spell of silence after this, as they listened, with a feeling at their hearts that if there were people moving it was in search of them.
“Eweh! it is true!” broke in Klaas; “they are men on the war-trail, and they sing of battles.”
“I hear nothing,” said Laura, trembling.
“Nor I,” growled Webster.
“Neither do I,” said Hume; “but these men do. If they sing, however, they must be halting round their fires, and if they are after us there is nothing to fear now; but we must shift our quarters before we are trapped. What do you say, Sirayo?”
“Yebo, we must fly to the mountain and hide. No man can live long in these reeds, and a woman would be quickly struck down by the sickness.”
“Yes, we must reach the mountains.”
“What!” said Webster; “at first we fly to the reeds, to escape the people on the hills—people we cannot see; and now you ask us to fly to the mountains to escape people we cannot hear. It seems to me we are dodging shadows.”
“You are right,” said Hume wearily; “for what but a shadow could have stolen in like this man did just now while I watched and listened? For all we know he may have returned.”
“Don’t!” gasped Laura; “when I look round I see eyes staring at me, and in every noise I hear a footstep. It is horrible, this place, and the air seems heavy.”
“Let us get out, then,” said Webster; “but it is a mystery to me why we should have entered a place which is now considered to be a trap.”
“It is no use discussing the matter; let us quickly get our traps together;” and suiting the action to the word, Hume rolled up his blanket. Luckily the bundles containing the kits were still intact.
Soon they were all ready, and then they followed Hume deeper into the reeds, until one of the numerous game tracks was crossed, upon which they followed it to the edge, coming out about two hundred yards below the spot where they entered. Then, treading softly to leave no spoor, they advanced for a considerable distance, when the pace was quickened up the rising and rock-strewn ground. And now they were out in the open they heard, unmistakably, the murmur of many voices, and caught, afar off, on the edge of the reeds, the reflection of fires. Their fears at once saw enemies seated about those fires, and gave them energy to pursue their way. Gradually the ground grew rougher, the incline more steep; but Sirayo unerringly kept to a ridge that wound tortuously up among valleys whose growing depth could only be felt. Up and up they went doggedly, with bodies bent forward to the incline, and the two friends took Laura each by an arm, and always spurring them on came the faint echo of that deep-throated war-chant.
“I can go no further,” said Laura presently, with her hand to her side.
“Rest awhile,” said Hume gently; and she sank to the ground, while the men stood near drawing deep breaths.
“The sun is soon up,” said Sirayo, “and the watchers on the mountain will see us.”
Webster thrust his gun into Hume’s hands, and, picking her up, went staggering on a few ineffectual yards.
“Thank you,” she said, as she sank to the ground, and at the words Hume recalled the stinging rebuff he had received when he had lifted her in his arms on theSwift. Time and the alarms of many dangers had since then tamed her spirit to indifference as to the degree of respect due to her, and she would not have revolted had the Gaika carried her; but Hume read in her thanks a deeper meaning.
“The horizon on the east is brightening, and in an hour there will be light. Let us find shelter, and rest the day,” he said.
“Go on,” she said; “but as for me, I will stay here.”
“And I, too,” said Webster.
“Stay, Klaas,” said Hume quietly; then went off with Sirayo up the ridge.
“He has left you to me,” murmured Webster.
“I am content,” she said; “his energy tires me.”
“I care not, if we are together.”
“The baas has gone to find a hiding-place; he will return,” said Klaas.
“Of course,” said Webster bitterly; “it is of our safety he is thinking, and the mischief is that I am completely helpless in my ignorance.”
“I am too tired to talk,” she muttered; and he sat looking out over the dark expanse to a light in the eastern sky.
In a few minutes Hume and Sirayo were back again.
“There is a place above here where we can halt against the shelter of a precipice, which will screen us from any people above. It is but a short distance.”
“It is so restful here,” she said.
“Persuade her,” he said, turning to Webster.
“I have not the will, even if I had the privilege,” he replied; “she is tired.”
“Come,” said Hume harshly; “this is no time to be nice. We can take no risks, and must reach the shelter.”
She rose up, and disdaining any offer of help, walked on; and so, in silence, they continued until the precipice was reached. Here among some huge boulders they spread their blankets, and in a minute Laura and the two blacks were in deep slumber.
“Sleep, Frank,” said Webster; “you will wear yourself out.”
“So much the better for you,” he said.
“Look here, Frank, you are the leader, and I follow you with my eyes shut; but heavens above, man, my helplessness breeds in me a feeling of desperation, which finds vent now and again in bad humour. You must bear with me.”
“Ay, and what of myself? I have brought you all here, and am answerable for your safety. That is anxiety enough without the additional weight of your ill humour and her dislike.”
“It will be all right when the morning breaks; now sleep, my lad.”
Frank stretched himself out and Webster remained on guard till the dawn broke in a red glory, and the heavy mists began to roll up from the river. Then Sirayo and Klaas arose and went away to a fountain, which gurgled from the rock, to wash the sleep from their eyes, and to polish their white teeth with bits of stick. Then one of them made a fire with dry sticks, trusting to the curling wraiths of mist to hide the slight smoke, and the other filled the kettle. They built up a screen of rocks to hide the blaze, then sat down to warm their hands and feet. Then Hume woke, and when the coffee was ready Laura stirred under her blanket and lifted her head to look around.
“For heaven’s sake, Laura,” said Webster, “do go and wash that hideous mask from your face! It is a nightmare.”
“Thank you,” she said stiffly, but, nevertheless, was prompt to take the hint, Webster leading her to the fountain, while Hume looked after them with a sigh. His face had a worn and anxious look, and his cheeks seemed to have suddenly hollowed.
“Laura,” said Webster gravely; “we did not behave well to Frank last night, and he feels it deeply. Be kind to him.”
She looked at him with a flash in her eyes. “You presume too much,” she said coldly; but, nevertheless, on returning to the fire, she took her place next to Hume, and treated him with a winning deference that soon smoothed the lines from his face.
Then they sat and watched the mist fade and the country below appear suddenly fresh and brilliant in the soft light, and presently, as they looked, they saw a band of warriors move quickly along the edge of the reeds. In the clear light they were plainly seen even to the colour of their shields, and it was noticed that at intervals small bodies broke away to enter the reeds, while the rest followed the lead of a solitary warrior who went ahead.
“They are hunting,” said Hume.
“Yebo—they hunt us; and the men who enter the reeds are stationed in game tracks. It is good; they think we are still there.”
“And if we had remained,” said Laura, “could we not have hidden?”
“No, Inkosikasi; those men who continue will presently enter in the rear of our retreat. They will then spread out and advance. If we were there we should be driven ahead like game, and those stationed in the paths would see us sooner or later. Oh, ay, it is a good plan they have made, but we have made a better.”
She put her hand on Hume’s shoulder.
“You were right, Frank.”
They watched in breathless interest, and it followed as Sirayo had said. When the main body of warriors reached the spot they entered the reeds, leaving half a dozen men on the outside, who turned and followed the line of beaters.
“Two of those are white men,” said Klaas; “they carry guns.”
“The devils,” growled Webster; “there is some mystery in the hate with which they pursue us.”
“No mystery,” answered Laura; “they have the key to the Golden Rock, and know we are in search of it.”
“I’m afraid it is so,” said Hume. “They do not shout as they would if they were after game; and, see, a buffalo has broken cover, and the men on the outside do not fire.”
For an hour the man hunt went on, and from time to time game of all kinds broke out, circled round unnoticed, and re-entered the reeds. At last a gun was fired as a signal, and the men straggled out in twos and threes till the whole body had re-assembled about a mile below the point they had entered. They remained for some time, after which they lit fires, while half a dozen men again advanced, quartering the ground along the reeds, searching evidently for spoor.
“It is well we were careful to leave no spoor when quitting the reeds,” muttered Hume, as he brushed his hand across his brow.
Slowly the six men advanced until they were opposite the retreat, when they again entered the reeds, remaining hidden for some time, to emerge at last from the very game track followed by the fugitives.
Hume grasped his rifle, while Sirayo’s hand felt for his assegai.
The men stayed a few minutes gesticulating; then four of them started back for the main body, leaving two, who moved about for some time with their bodies bent. Then, straightening up, they advanced swiftly.
“Good God!” muttered Hume; “they have hit off the spoor. Behind the rocks!”
Sirayo said a word to the Gaika, and, slipping off their blankets, they each took an assegai and went down, one on each side of the ridge, taking so much advantage of the shelter, that, after a few moments, even Hume could not follow them.
“Have they deserted?” said Laura, with a gasp.
“No,” said Hume, in a suppressed whisper; “they are taking the only measure that will save us. They are brave men and faithful, and our lives depend on them.”
“It is true,” she murmured, while her eyes grew large. “I said it when you first told me of the accursed Rock—it can only be reached through blood.”
From the shelter of the rocks they saw the two men breast the ridge, following on the spoor like bloodhounds, and stopping at intervals to look over the ground ahead. Gradually their pace slackened, until, when they had reached the place where Laura had rested, they halted, and seemed reluctant to advance further; indeed, after looking long at the precipice which crossed the ridge, they turned to retreat.
They were about four hundred yards off, and Hume raised his rifle.
“If they escape,” he said, “the whole crowd will be about us, and if I fire it will also draw them.”
At this moment the men sprang aside as though suddenly alarmed, and in the same breath the two concealed foes hurled themselves upon them. There was a shout, the sharp click of assegais, a death hug and tumble, and two men arose to continue their flight down the hill.
The three spectators looked at each other horrified.
“Our men are killed,” said Webster, moistening his lips.
“This is the beginning of the end,” she whispered; “poor Klaas, who was so willing, and Sirayo so strong and brave.”
Hume looked after the two men with despair in his eyes. They reached the bottom of the ridge, shouted after the four men, who were half-way to the main body, and then entered the reeds.
Chapter Twenty Eight.The Face of Rock.“It won’t be long before they attack us, will it?” asked Webster quietly; “the main body may be two miles away, or perhaps three, allowing for the roughness of the ground. They will learn where we are in half an hour. We’ve got an hour—plenty of time to build a circular wall from the base of the cliff.”“We three are left,” murmured Laura; “and if we are to die, let us die together.”“Don’t let us talk of dying,” said Hume, who had been in a brown study.“We’ve beaten them off before, and we’ll do it again,” continued Webster; “but we must have our bulwarks high and stanch. Let us begin.”“There is no necessity; at least, I hope so. Wait until I return,” and he cautiously went down the ridge.“What’s in the wind now?” muttered Webster, as the two looked anxiously at each other, and then stood waiting in silence while they searched the ground in vain for any sign of him. At last, after a torturing interval, they saw him reach the scene of the fight, saw him a moment, and then underwent the same suspense. It might have been an hour after he left them that he suddenly appeared below them from behind a bush, and his face told its tale before he cried, “It is all right.”“How,” they said, “can it be right? Surely there were two men killed, and the others escaped?”“Yes,” said Hume, rubbing his knees, for he had crawled for many a yard; “but the two men killed were our enemies.”“But why, then, did our men leave us?”“Be sure they have some good reason. When I saw the two retreat after the fight, I thought, with you, that Sirayo and Klaas had been killed; but I could not understand how a man like Sirayo could fall before a foe not armed with a gun, and something in their walk aroused my hopes. When they entered the reeds, I was convinced they were our men; for, naturally, the others, if they had escaped, would have run on at once to the main body.”“Shake, old man,” said Webster; “you’ve put me in good heart again;” and the two brown and sinewy hands came together in an iron grasp.“Don’t leave me out,” she whispered, and with the first laugh that had left their lips for some time, the three crossed hands. Then, seating themselves on the long grass between the rocks, they watched the Zulus right through the morning, and into the afternoon. There was no movement until the sun was on the downward slope, and the shadow of the mountain had lengthened out, when, the warriors fell into four companies, and entered upon what, from the deep-throated shouts that marked time to their antics, was evidently a war-dance.“See!” said Hume anxiously, “they are preparing to attack; there can be no doubting that dance. Can it be possible that they know we are here?”“If our men have told them,” said Webster gloomily. “But,” he added grimly, “let them come, and have done with this suspense.”“They are moving now!”“And coming this way!”“Yes, by heavens!”“Hark,” said Laura, “what booming noise is that?”The two men looked at her, at the wild gleam in her eyes, at the parted lips and heaving breast, and the dew stood in beads on their foreheads at the awful thought that her mind had given way.“Why do you look at me so? Do you not hear it—there!”Hume started, and bent his eyes to the top of the krantz.“I have it!” he almost shouted, “they are not coming to attack us; that noise you hear is made by the people above sounding the alarm with their horns.”“But the Zulus are coming this way,” said Webster.“They may turn off before they reach the ridge.”On came the band of warriors, walking in column of six abreast, with their Indunas on their left. A ribbon of white ran down the dark line, made by the mark on their shields, and presently the nodding plumes could be seen. Suddenly they wheeled to the left and wound their way up to a spur of the mountain, until the long column of about six hundred men was marching parallel to the ridge where the fugitives hid, and bars of light shone between the ranks. As the shadows darkened the column was hidden by the rising ground, and, except for an occasional horn blast echoing from the mountain, there was nothing to tell of the presence of savages near.So the long day drew to its close, leaving the three uneasy and wearied in spirit from the recurring strains, and they waited with fresh suspense for the return of Sirayo and Klaas. Happily, however, they were not kept long waiting, for soon after the night had fallen a low whistle sounded below them, and Hume responding, the two suddenly appeared out of the darkness.They were overwhelmed with questions, for the joy of the three at their safe return broke down the barriers of reserve observed in intercourse between them.“We have not eaten,” said Klaas practically.“We may build a fire,” said Sirayo, and throwing down their assegais, they were about to bring in wood and water.“Rest,” said Hume; “we will do this,” and very soon a fire was made under the shelter of a rock, the kettle was put on, and the food brought out.The two natives were left to their repast, and when at last they filled their pipes they were again questioned.“We went into the reeds,” said Sirayo, “as you saw.”“We thought at first you had been killed.”“Yoh! we each smote our man, for they were startled; then we took their shields, called to the other four to throw them off their guard, and entered the reeds. We went through them till we came abreast of the impi. Then we lay and watched. There were four Indunas and two white men. They ate and slept, and in the afternoon took medicine from theamapakati, a big man whom the Gaika had seen before.”“Eweh,” interposed Klaas, whose eyes gleamed through the dark, “the same who came to the kraal, and who last night crept in upon us.”“They took medicine and danced. Then they marched, and we thought at first they were going to eat you up. I saw the people on the mountain. They took alarm; the horns sounded, and I knew the impi was not on your spoor. They have made their fires high up, and in the morning will ascend. It is well. Our path will be clear.”“And the white men?”“One I have seen before,” said Klaas, “a small man with a yellow skin. The other I know not, but his arm is hurt. It was he the baas hit when we were at the waggon.”“You have done good service, and we will remember. They will have their hands full with the mountain people.”“Oh, ayi, and with the people beyond if they enter the valley.”“Then our chances improve,” said Hume, turning to Webster, “for while they are fighting we may slip through undetected.”“I suppose there can be little doubt that this is Lieutenant Gobo, and that he has somehow possessed himself of the secret of the Rock.”“And he has lost much time in his efforts to put us out of the way. We’ll be before him yet, unless we take this opportunity of escaping.”“No, no,” cried Laura; “we have already undergone in imagination the terror of violent death, and we must continue. I have watched you to-day, and saw how anxiety has left its mark on your faces. Imagine how it has been with me. I can feel that there are grey hairs on my forehead, that my cheeks have thinned, my mind is stored with the memory of alarms, and if we retired there would be nothing for me but the bitterness of disappointment and of failure. I must reach this Golden Rock, and then the future will once more brighten before me. This mission stands for me in place of everything I have lost, and you know what that loss has been.”“Do you recall how theSwiftleapt at the great sides of the cruiser through a fury of shot?” asked Webster slowly, his mind going back to that one great tragedy of their lives.“Yes,” said Hume softly, “and I think we said we would do something for the relatives of the gallant fellows who went to their death with Captain Pardoe.”“Then we advance,” said Laura. “When?”“Well, we must wait until the Zulus have broken camp, then we must strike across their line of march, and continue south, about six miles, I should say, from my recollection of the map, to bring us opposite that bend in the mountain where the Rock may be seen from. I cannot understand why Gobo, if he is in search of the treasure, should approach the mountain at the spot selected.”They continued to discuss this absorbing subject for some time before seeking rest. In the morning a sharp outlook was kept on the movements of the Zulus from the top of the krantz, and they were seen to be afoot soon after dawn; and as the clouds lifted later on it was also seen that the people on the mountain had gathered in small bodies. When the last of the Zulus had been swallowed up in the deep gorges which scarred the face of the granite mass, the little party set out on a course parallel with the base of the mountain. This presently took them across the wide track beaten down in the grass by the naked feet of the warriors, and, taking advantage of the shelter, they pushed on until noon, when the mountain dipped round to the south. Before this they had heard the sound of firing reverberating from the deep ravines, but the shoulder of the mountain now concealed them. They paused now for a rest after their sharp burst, and to prepare for the arduous labour of the ascent in search of the Eye in the face of rock.Above them towered the great mass, bare of trees, and grim with scars and fissures cut by the sharp teeth of the wind and rain. As is the case with many African mountains, the summit was rimmed with a sheer precipice that seemed from far below quite impassable. They traced the contour of the upper rim for sign of profiles, which are often fantastically outlined by the rock, but without success, and, having sufficiently rested, began the ascent.They had carefully marked off their position by the map, and, in the excitement of nearing their goal, had completely forgotten the neighbourhood of rivals and enemies in the field. They went on from spur to spur, and whenever they topped a ridge the face of the mountain took fresh shape, and they would pause to scan its rugged front.At last, after one of these halts, there suddenly opened before them, and above, a narrow fissure in the mountain; and at the very top, sharply defined against the sky, stood out the profile of a human face, the forehead sloping back to the very sky-line of the mountain, the nose straight and clear-cut, the lips full, the chin with a bold and sweeping curve, and the neck clearly defined before it joined the parent rock. This profile would have been accounted something curious, but not unusual, if it had not been for the marvel of the eye, which seemed actually to sparkle with a look of mortal intelligence. The eyebrow was clearly marked—the lines beneath as well; but what gave to the feature its magic touch of realism was a spark of light from the retina. This lent majesty to the face. The eye seemed to follow them as they moved, and they could not suppress a feeling that there was some living and awful power bending its gaze in severe displeasure upon them.Hume drew a long breath, and then began, in his excitement, to fill his pipe, while, with a smile of triumph, he stood looking at the face.“By Jove,” he said, “the old man was right after all!”“It is wonderful,” said Laura, with a shiver; “but I wish it had not such a human look.”“There is something in it,” said Webster, in a low voice, “that reminds me of an eye shining through a layer of still clouds.”After an exclamation that broke from their lips at the first shock of startled surprise, the two natives turned their backs to this mysterious and threatening portent.Hume alone was not oppressed. Whether because he was free from superstition, and had little imagination, he regarded the face as merely a natural curiosity, and was moved only because it did exist.“Come,” he said cheerily, “let us reach it before nightfall. See, the ravine before us leads right up, and though the mountain rises to the face apparently in a straight wall, there is no doubt a way up. Take your bearings, Webster.”They looked at the face, and then at the points around that were most conspicuous, and then they looked at each other, startled and dismayed.When their gaze again returned to the face, the eye was no longer there, and the face itself, deprived of that living spark, seemed not the same.“Never mind,” said Hume, with a strange laugh, “we have seen it. Forward!”Somewhat reluctantly, they moved on, casting questioning glances above; but when presently the face was hidden by an intervening ridge, they shook off their fear, to be revived again when they entered the ravine. This cut deeply into the heart of a mountain, a vast and gloomy fissure where the sun scarcely entered, the haunt of the owl, but of no other living creature. Lofty walls towered above them, and the bottom was covered with a litter of loose stones and gigantic boulders. At each step the stones clattered away, and the sounds echoed and re-echoed.They did not speak above a whisper, for a loudly uttered word was tossed back from side to side and rolled up in deep mutterings. And then the gloom was so deep, especially when a slight bend to the left shut out the opening behind, that it seemed as if night had already fallen, and one of them looking up, saw pale stars appear out of the blue. Still they plodded on, with many rests, as the incline grew rapidly steeper, and Hume affirmed that in an hour they would reach the top.“It only wants that time to sunset,” said Webster, “and before then it will be too dark in this wolfs throat to see a yard.”“At any rate, let us get as near the top as we can, so that we can reach the face before sunrise.”“If it is there still,” muttered Webster gloomily.Again they advanced, the darkness deepening, and the walls narrowing in upon them, until Hume, who was leading, uttered a sharp cry.“What is it now, in Heaven’s name?”“The way is barred. We’re in acul-de-sac!”They went up to Hume and stood against a great wall, which, as they could dimly see, stretched right across.All sank to the ground with a first feeling of relief that they had to go no further, except Hume, and he went from side to side, feeling with his hands for some way over this obstacle.“It is no good,” he cried; “we must halt here and try again to-morrow.”His words were met by a sound of weeping as Laura, tired out, for the first time gave way to a spasm of sobs which shook her frame and awoke echoes the most melancholy in that profound abyss. This sign of womanly weakness at once restored to the men courage to face this new trouble with cheerfulness, and, deeming it best to leave her to the relief of tears, they busied themselves in making for her a comfortable couch, finding material in a mass of fern which grew at one spot where water oozed from the rock. The dried ferns also served for fuel, and presently the flames flickered up, casting fantastic shadows. They made light of their position, being rewarded by seeing Laura take her coffee, and tasteless damper and tough biltong, with the relish of hunger. Pipes were lit, she rolled a cigarette, and they leant back to gaze up at the stars, now out in all their brilliancy, increased by the darkness from which they looked.Then, rolling themselves in their blankets, they fell into a profound sleep, in spite of the hard rocks, and were not disturbed until far into the night, when they were aroused by the sound of the wind moaning down the ravine. They drew their covering tighter to shut out the cold, but the noise coming and going in a manner weird beyond the power of words to express, they sat up to listen. Then they found there was no breath of air stirring about them, and that the noise came intermittently in blasts from one direction, being caught up by the echoes and sent booming from side to side. When the echoes rolled away there would be a fresh blast, a wailing note, a gasp as if the wind were struggling in some long funnel, and, mingled with this sound, they fancied there was some human note.“There is a mystery here,” said Hume, rising.“It is the wizard of the mountain,” said Klaas, shivering. “His breath will wither your flesh.”“Oh, hang the wizard!” growled Hume, as he moved off away from the barrier; but the sound came again, rising from a moan to a shrill screech.They stood to their arms, driven to a pitch of fury by the disturbing noise, until there was light enough to reveal objects at hand, when they peered up at the walls above.Suddenly the Gaika yelled aloud, and covered his eyes.“What do you see?” asked Hume sternly.“The white breath of the wizard, sieur!”Hume stood by Klaas, and looked up just as from a point about fifty feet above a puff of white darted from the rock, followed by the now familiar wail. He laughed at the sight.“Here is our tormentor,” he cried; “a blast of wind blowing through a natural funnel,” and he pointed to the spot.They gathered near him, and Webster, with a quick glance at the rock, began to climb. From point to point he went with seeming ease, until, reaching a ledge, he stood before the aperture.“By Jove,” he cried, “there’s a gale of wind blowing through!” then, after a pause, while his face was at the opening: “A light! I can see through. Hume, suppose this is the way after all.”“Is the opening large enough for a man to pass through?”“I will see.”They saw dimly his body disappear, and waited anxiously while the moments slipped swiftly by.“He is a long time,” muttered Hume.“He is in danger,” said Laura, in a low voice, coming close to his side; “I feel it.”“I will see,” he said.“Yes,” she whispered; “I suppose you must,” but she laid a trembling hand on his arm, while her face looked ghastly white.Sirayo let slip the blanket from his shoulders, and with a piece of fat rubbed his skin until it shone. Then quickly he scaled the rock and disappeared.And the three left behind stood there looking up at the hole, while across the cleft above struck a broad fan of light, making a silver track along the rocks on their right, and by the pale reflection they saw the opening more clearly, and were startled by the sudden appearance of the chief. Hume placed his hand on Laura’s shoulder.“Have you found him?” asked Hume quietly.“Yebo. But it is bad. He is dead!”“Dead!” they muttered; “dead!”“He lies here in the passage.”“Let us go to him,” said Laura, shaking off her fears at once.“Is the way easy?” asked Hume.“It is easy.”She sprang to the rock, and Sirayo came down to help her, while Hume saw that her footing was secure. They entered a tunnel, which for some distance was quite round, and through which, one at a time, they crawled. Then there was more room, and, guided by the light of day ahead, they went on where the tunnel opened out on a wide ledge. Here lay their comrade with his face to the sky, and blood oozing from a wound on his head.About fifty yards to their right and above them was the Face!
“It won’t be long before they attack us, will it?” asked Webster quietly; “the main body may be two miles away, or perhaps three, allowing for the roughness of the ground. They will learn where we are in half an hour. We’ve got an hour—plenty of time to build a circular wall from the base of the cliff.”
“We three are left,” murmured Laura; “and if we are to die, let us die together.”
“Don’t let us talk of dying,” said Hume, who had been in a brown study.
“We’ve beaten them off before, and we’ll do it again,” continued Webster; “but we must have our bulwarks high and stanch. Let us begin.”
“There is no necessity; at least, I hope so. Wait until I return,” and he cautiously went down the ridge.
“What’s in the wind now?” muttered Webster, as the two looked anxiously at each other, and then stood waiting in silence while they searched the ground in vain for any sign of him. At last, after a torturing interval, they saw him reach the scene of the fight, saw him a moment, and then underwent the same suspense. It might have been an hour after he left them that he suddenly appeared below them from behind a bush, and his face told its tale before he cried, “It is all right.”
“How,” they said, “can it be right? Surely there were two men killed, and the others escaped?”
“Yes,” said Hume, rubbing his knees, for he had crawled for many a yard; “but the two men killed were our enemies.”
“But why, then, did our men leave us?”
“Be sure they have some good reason. When I saw the two retreat after the fight, I thought, with you, that Sirayo and Klaas had been killed; but I could not understand how a man like Sirayo could fall before a foe not armed with a gun, and something in their walk aroused my hopes. When they entered the reeds, I was convinced they were our men; for, naturally, the others, if they had escaped, would have run on at once to the main body.”
“Shake, old man,” said Webster; “you’ve put me in good heart again;” and the two brown and sinewy hands came together in an iron grasp.
“Don’t leave me out,” she whispered, and with the first laugh that had left their lips for some time, the three crossed hands. Then, seating themselves on the long grass between the rocks, they watched the Zulus right through the morning, and into the afternoon. There was no movement until the sun was on the downward slope, and the shadow of the mountain had lengthened out, when, the warriors fell into four companies, and entered upon what, from the deep-throated shouts that marked time to their antics, was evidently a war-dance.
“See!” said Hume anxiously, “they are preparing to attack; there can be no doubting that dance. Can it be possible that they know we are here?”
“If our men have told them,” said Webster gloomily. “But,” he added grimly, “let them come, and have done with this suspense.”
“They are moving now!”
“And coming this way!”
“Yes, by heavens!”
“Hark,” said Laura, “what booming noise is that?”
The two men looked at her, at the wild gleam in her eyes, at the parted lips and heaving breast, and the dew stood in beads on their foreheads at the awful thought that her mind had given way.
“Why do you look at me so? Do you not hear it—there!”
Hume started, and bent his eyes to the top of the krantz.
“I have it!” he almost shouted, “they are not coming to attack us; that noise you hear is made by the people above sounding the alarm with their horns.”
“But the Zulus are coming this way,” said Webster.
“They may turn off before they reach the ridge.”
On came the band of warriors, walking in column of six abreast, with their Indunas on their left. A ribbon of white ran down the dark line, made by the mark on their shields, and presently the nodding plumes could be seen. Suddenly they wheeled to the left and wound their way up to a spur of the mountain, until the long column of about six hundred men was marching parallel to the ridge where the fugitives hid, and bars of light shone between the ranks. As the shadows darkened the column was hidden by the rising ground, and, except for an occasional horn blast echoing from the mountain, there was nothing to tell of the presence of savages near.
So the long day drew to its close, leaving the three uneasy and wearied in spirit from the recurring strains, and they waited with fresh suspense for the return of Sirayo and Klaas. Happily, however, they were not kept long waiting, for soon after the night had fallen a low whistle sounded below them, and Hume responding, the two suddenly appeared out of the darkness.
They were overwhelmed with questions, for the joy of the three at their safe return broke down the barriers of reserve observed in intercourse between them.
“We have not eaten,” said Klaas practically.
“We may build a fire,” said Sirayo, and throwing down their assegais, they were about to bring in wood and water.
“Rest,” said Hume; “we will do this,” and very soon a fire was made under the shelter of a rock, the kettle was put on, and the food brought out.
The two natives were left to their repast, and when at last they filled their pipes they were again questioned.
“We went into the reeds,” said Sirayo, “as you saw.”
“We thought at first you had been killed.”
“Yoh! we each smote our man, for they were startled; then we took their shields, called to the other four to throw them off their guard, and entered the reeds. We went through them till we came abreast of the impi. Then we lay and watched. There were four Indunas and two white men. They ate and slept, and in the afternoon took medicine from theamapakati, a big man whom the Gaika had seen before.”
“Eweh,” interposed Klaas, whose eyes gleamed through the dark, “the same who came to the kraal, and who last night crept in upon us.”
“They took medicine and danced. Then they marched, and we thought at first they were going to eat you up. I saw the people on the mountain. They took alarm; the horns sounded, and I knew the impi was not on your spoor. They have made their fires high up, and in the morning will ascend. It is well. Our path will be clear.”
“And the white men?”
“One I have seen before,” said Klaas, “a small man with a yellow skin. The other I know not, but his arm is hurt. It was he the baas hit when we were at the waggon.”
“You have done good service, and we will remember. They will have their hands full with the mountain people.”
“Oh, ayi, and with the people beyond if they enter the valley.”
“Then our chances improve,” said Hume, turning to Webster, “for while they are fighting we may slip through undetected.”
“I suppose there can be little doubt that this is Lieutenant Gobo, and that he has somehow possessed himself of the secret of the Rock.”
“And he has lost much time in his efforts to put us out of the way. We’ll be before him yet, unless we take this opportunity of escaping.”
“No, no,” cried Laura; “we have already undergone in imagination the terror of violent death, and we must continue. I have watched you to-day, and saw how anxiety has left its mark on your faces. Imagine how it has been with me. I can feel that there are grey hairs on my forehead, that my cheeks have thinned, my mind is stored with the memory of alarms, and if we retired there would be nothing for me but the bitterness of disappointment and of failure. I must reach this Golden Rock, and then the future will once more brighten before me. This mission stands for me in place of everything I have lost, and you know what that loss has been.”
“Do you recall how theSwiftleapt at the great sides of the cruiser through a fury of shot?” asked Webster slowly, his mind going back to that one great tragedy of their lives.
“Yes,” said Hume softly, “and I think we said we would do something for the relatives of the gallant fellows who went to their death with Captain Pardoe.”
“Then we advance,” said Laura. “When?”
“Well, we must wait until the Zulus have broken camp, then we must strike across their line of march, and continue south, about six miles, I should say, from my recollection of the map, to bring us opposite that bend in the mountain where the Rock may be seen from. I cannot understand why Gobo, if he is in search of the treasure, should approach the mountain at the spot selected.”
They continued to discuss this absorbing subject for some time before seeking rest. In the morning a sharp outlook was kept on the movements of the Zulus from the top of the krantz, and they were seen to be afoot soon after dawn; and as the clouds lifted later on it was also seen that the people on the mountain had gathered in small bodies. When the last of the Zulus had been swallowed up in the deep gorges which scarred the face of the granite mass, the little party set out on a course parallel with the base of the mountain. This presently took them across the wide track beaten down in the grass by the naked feet of the warriors, and, taking advantage of the shelter, they pushed on until noon, when the mountain dipped round to the south. Before this they had heard the sound of firing reverberating from the deep ravines, but the shoulder of the mountain now concealed them. They paused now for a rest after their sharp burst, and to prepare for the arduous labour of the ascent in search of the Eye in the face of rock.
Above them towered the great mass, bare of trees, and grim with scars and fissures cut by the sharp teeth of the wind and rain. As is the case with many African mountains, the summit was rimmed with a sheer precipice that seemed from far below quite impassable. They traced the contour of the upper rim for sign of profiles, which are often fantastically outlined by the rock, but without success, and, having sufficiently rested, began the ascent.
They had carefully marked off their position by the map, and, in the excitement of nearing their goal, had completely forgotten the neighbourhood of rivals and enemies in the field. They went on from spur to spur, and whenever they topped a ridge the face of the mountain took fresh shape, and they would pause to scan its rugged front.
At last, after one of these halts, there suddenly opened before them, and above, a narrow fissure in the mountain; and at the very top, sharply defined against the sky, stood out the profile of a human face, the forehead sloping back to the very sky-line of the mountain, the nose straight and clear-cut, the lips full, the chin with a bold and sweeping curve, and the neck clearly defined before it joined the parent rock. This profile would have been accounted something curious, but not unusual, if it had not been for the marvel of the eye, which seemed actually to sparkle with a look of mortal intelligence. The eyebrow was clearly marked—the lines beneath as well; but what gave to the feature its magic touch of realism was a spark of light from the retina. This lent majesty to the face. The eye seemed to follow them as they moved, and they could not suppress a feeling that there was some living and awful power bending its gaze in severe displeasure upon them.
Hume drew a long breath, and then began, in his excitement, to fill his pipe, while, with a smile of triumph, he stood looking at the face.
“By Jove,” he said, “the old man was right after all!”
“It is wonderful,” said Laura, with a shiver; “but I wish it had not such a human look.”
“There is something in it,” said Webster, in a low voice, “that reminds me of an eye shining through a layer of still clouds.”
After an exclamation that broke from their lips at the first shock of startled surprise, the two natives turned their backs to this mysterious and threatening portent.
Hume alone was not oppressed. Whether because he was free from superstition, and had little imagination, he regarded the face as merely a natural curiosity, and was moved only because it did exist.
“Come,” he said cheerily, “let us reach it before nightfall. See, the ravine before us leads right up, and though the mountain rises to the face apparently in a straight wall, there is no doubt a way up. Take your bearings, Webster.”
They looked at the face, and then at the points around that were most conspicuous, and then they looked at each other, startled and dismayed.
When their gaze again returned to the face, the eye was no longer there, and the face itself, deprived of that living spark, seemed not the same.
“Never mind,” said Hume, with a strange laugh, “we have seen it. Forward!”
Somewhat reluctantly, they moved on, casting questioning glances above; but when presently the face was hidden by an intervening ridge, they shook off their fear, to be revived again when they entered the ravine. This cut deeply into the heart of a mountain, a vast and gloomy fissure where the sun scarcely entered, the haunt of the owl, but of no other living creature. Lofty walls towered above them, and the bottom was covered with a litter of loose stones and gigantic boulders. At each step the stones clattered away, and the sounds echoed and re-echoed.
They did not speak above a whisper, for a loudly uttered word was tossed back from side to side and rolled up in deep mutterings. And then the gloom was so deep, especially when a slight bend to the left shut out the opening behind, that it seemed as if night had already fallen, and one of them looking up, saw pale stars appear out of the blue. Still they plodded on, with many rests, as the incline grew rapidly steeper, and Hume affirmed that in an hour they would reach the top.
“It only wants that time to sunset,” said Webster, “and before then it will be too dark in this wolfs throat to see a yard.”
“At any rate, let us get as near the top as we can, so that we can reach the face before sunrise.”
“If it is there still,” muttered Webster gloomily.
Again they advanced, the darkness deepening, and the walls narrowing in upon them, until Hume, who was leading, uttered a sharp cry.
“What is it now, in Heaven’s name?”
“The way is barred. We’re in acul-de-sac!”
They went up to Hume and stood against a great wall, which, as they could dimly see, stretched right across.
All sank to the ground with a first feeling of relief that they had to go no further, except Hume, and he went from side to side, feeling with his hands for some way over this obstacle.
“It is no good,” he cried; “we must halt here and try again to-morrow.”
His words were met by a sound of weeping as Laura, tired out, for the first time gave way to a spasm of sobs which shook her frame and awoke echoes the most melancholy in that profound abyss. This sign of womanly weakness at once restored to the men courage to face this new trouble with cheerfulness, and, deeming it best to leave her to the relief of tears, they busied themselves in making for her a comfortable couch, finding material in a mass of fern which grew at one spot where water oozed from the rock. The dried ferns also served for fuel, and presently the flames flickered up, casting fantastic shadows. They made light of their position, being rewarded by seeing Laura take her coffee, and tasteless damper and tough biltong, with the relish of hunger. Pipes were lit, she rolled a cigarette, and they leant back to gaze up at the stars, now out in all their brilliancy, increased by the darkness from which they looked.
Then, rolling themselves in their blankets, they fell into a profound sleep, in spite of the hard rocks, and were not disturbed until far into the night, when they were aroused by the sound of the wind moaning down the ravine. They drew their covering tighter to shut out the cold, but the noise coming and going in a manner weird beyond the power of words to express, they sat up to listen. Then they found there was no breath of air stirring about them, and that the noise came intermittently in blasts from one direction, being caught up by the echoes and sent booming from side to side. When the echoes rolled away there would be a fresh blast, a wailing note, a gasp as if the wind were struggling in some long funnel, and, mingled with this sound, they fancied there was some human note.
“There is a mystery here,” said Hume, rising.
“It is the wizard of the mountain,” said Klaas, shivering. “His breath will wither your flesh.”
“Oh, hang the wizard!” growled Hume, as he moved off away from the barrier; but the sound came again, rising from a moan to a shrill screech.
They stood to their arms, driven to a pitch of fury by the disturbing noise, until there was light enough to reveal objects at hand, when they peered up at the walls above.
Suddenly the Gaika yelled aloud, and covered his eyes.
“What do you see?” asked Hume sternly.
“The white breath of the wizard, sieur!”
Hume stood by Klaas, and looked up just as from a point about fifty feet above a puff of white darted from the rock, followed by the now familiar wail. He laughed at the sight.
“Here is our tormentor,” he cried; “a blast of wind blowing through a natural funnel,” and he pointed to the spot.
They gathered near him, and Webster, with a quick glance at the rock, began to climb. From point to point he went with seeming ease, until, reaching a ledge, he stood before the aperture.
“By Jove,” he cried, “there’s a gale of wind blowing through!” then, after a pause, while his face was at the opening: “A light! I can see through. Hume, suppose this is the way after all.”
“Is the opening large enough for a man to pass through?”
“I will see.”
They saw dimly his body disappear, and waited anxiously while the moments slipped swiftly by.
“He is a long time,” muttered Hume.
“He is in danger,” said Laura, in a low voice, coming close to his side; “I feel it.”
“I will see,” he said.
“Yes,” she whispered; “I suppose you must,” but she laid a trembling hand on his arm, while her face looked ghastly white.
Sirayo let slip the blanket from his shoulders, and with a piece of fat rubbed his skin until it shone. Then quickly he scaled the rock and disappeared.
And the three left behind stood there looking up at the hole, while across the cleft above struck a broad fan of light, making a silver track along the rocks on their right, and by the pale reflection they saw the opening more clearly, and were startled by the sudden appearance of the chief. Hume placed his hand on Laura’s shoulder.
“Have you found him?” asked Hume quietly.
“Yebo. But it is bad. He is dead!”
“Dead!” they muttered; “dead!”
“He lies here in the passage.”
“Let us go to him,” said Laura, shaking off her fears at once.
“Is the way easy?” asked Hume.
“It is easy.”
She sprang to the rock, and Sirayo came down to help her, while Hume saw that her footing was secure. They entered a tunnel, which for some distance was quite round, and through which, one at a time, they crawled. Then there was more room, and, guided by the light of day ahead, they went on where the tunnel opened out on a wide ledge. Here lay their comrade with his face to the sky, and blood oozing from a wound on his head.
About fifty yards to their right and above them was the Face!
Chapter Twenty Nine.A Fearful Position.“He is not dead,” said Hume, as he earnestly studied the white face.“Oh, thank Heaven! Quick! bring him in here out of the sun;” and, sitting down in the shadow of the opening, she took the wounded head upon her lap, and, with a firm, yet soft touch, parted the matted hairs. “Now get water and brandy.”Hume went swiftly back to the place they had just left, and on his return with water he found she had cut away the hair with her scissors, which she always carried.“It is only a surface wound. I think we have some maize meal left; give me some.”Hume unbound a small bundle, and produced a packet of meal, of which she grasped a handful and laid it on the wound, pressing it with her hand till the oozing blood caked it into an impervious plaster.“That will stop the bleeding. Now a drop of brandy,” and, taking a pannikin handed to her, she poured a few drops into his mouth, bathing his forehead with the rest. “Make a couch there with the blankets.” This was done, and the insensible form laid softly down.Then she sat by his side, bathing his forehead at intervals, and watching with an absorbed look, while Hume stood near pale and silent, and the two natives crouched in the cave.“Don’t stand there,” she said, without removing her gaze; “it irritates me. Find out how it happened.”Hume stepped out on to a broad ledge and stood in a maze, looking without seeing anything, until the rush of an eagle before his face made him recoil and restored his faculties. Then he keenly noted the surroundings. The ledge terminated at the cave, and from its lip a frightful precipice sank down and down into the rock-strewn depths. On his right the ledge swept up the face of the krantz to where the Face stood out from the rock, about two hundred feet above. He noted that the outline was not so clear, the smoothness observable from a distance being broken up by cracks and inequalities, while the neck was detached, and in the eye was a jagged opening without design. Slowly he mounted towards the profile, scanning the ledge for a sign of human presence, but finding nothing but a certain polish on the rock, which might have been caused by the passage of human feet. Without difficulty, and without emotion, he stepped into the socket of the eye; but no sooner was he there, with one hand holding to the rock to support him, than he thrilled to the thought that at last the mysterious Golden Rock was in the range of his vision. He drew a deep breath, and, forgetting everything, stood looking at the scene spread in noble beauty at his feet. There it lay, calm, beautiful and peaceful, the valley of the shining rock; the place where no white man had entered; whose secret had been jealously protected for centuries, to find its way at last through those gloomy ravines to the solitary hunter, and from him to the three who had been so strangely thrown together, and who were risking all to win it. Far and wide stretched the valley, flanked on the east and south by the frowning battlement of rocky mountains; on the north and west by deep forests, whose dark and sombre mantle stretched without a break, a valley of gentle grassy undulations, with clusters of trees scattered about, and with a broad and shining river running through its centre. On the further side large herds of cattle grazed, the slopes leading to the river showed green in patches, where the mealies grew, while dozens of native kraals were visible, and diminutive figures moved about in the fields, about the huts, or along the winding paths. On the nearer side there were no cattle, neither people nor villages, nor the criss-cross of trodden paths, but only an irregular structure overgrown with bush, which marked, no doubt, the site of the ruins referred to in the map. Long he stood drinking in the scene, and making many guesses as to the place where the rock should be, until he remembered that there was no one with him to share this pleasure. Then he examined the rock about him, and saw that a ledge ran from his feet along the front of the mountain facing the valley, to disappear round a projecting shoulder about one hundred yards away. Returning to the cave, he found Laura still sitting by the still figure. She looked up with a smile as he entered.“He is breathing regularly now, and the bleeding has stopped.”“You have saved his life, then,” he said warmly; and added softly, “his life is yours.”A deep flush suffused her face, and her lips trembled.“Did you find anything?” she asked absently.“No,” he answered, with a sigh; “but I have seen the casket that holds our treasure. I have looked on the valley from the eye. We are very near it at last. Will you come and see?”“I will wait till he can join us. It is at sunrise only—is it not?—we can see the Golden Rock. And to-morrow, then, let us stand together and watch for the ray that is to guide us.”Hume looked at Webster, and he remembered the silent mysterious foe who had dogged their footsteps. “If to-morrow’s sun shines for us,” he murmured.At last, in the afternoon, Webster suddenly sat up, and with a wild glare in his eyes, stared around him.“We are here, Jim,” she whispered softly.The bloodshot eyes sought her pale face. “And Frank?” he asked. She drew aside, showing Hume standing there.“Look out!” he cried hoarsely, “there is danger here. I was struck down just now by some unseen hand. Give me my rifle.”“There is no fear at present,” she said gently. “Several hours have gone since we found you here.”“And Laura has nursed you all that time;” and Hume placed her hand in that of the wounded man.Then he stepped out again to keep guard, while Klaas, who had been very subdued, took infinite pains to make the kettle boil out of such scanty fuel as he could find. When night closed down Webster was able to sit up, but was still too dizzy to stand, and could not, much to his concern, take his turn at guard. Klaas was stationed at the back of the cave, Sirayo at its mouth, while Hume went forward to seat himself in the eye itself.There was a profound silence up in that lofty eyrie, and the long-continued strain they had been subjected to made them more liable to the sad influence of the surroundings. In the dim light Laura could see the blanketed figure of the Zulu chief, seated like a stone image on the ledge overhanging the deep ravine, and as she watched the blurred outline minute after minute without seeing any movement, she began at first to speculate on his reflections; but this train of thought rapidly melted into a vague uneasiness, giving way again to a feeling of superstition. Her breath came quicker, and to still her fears she moved softly out on to the ledge and laid a timid hand on the bowed shoulder of the immovable savage.He turned his head quickly at the touch, his eyes gleaming.“I was afraid,” she whispered, shuddering, and sat down near him, while he, after a steady look around, gravely took snuff.“Much dark,” he growled in broken English. “Inkosikasi not like. Sit here; sleep—no!” and leaning over, he gently touched the lip of the precipice with his assegai.“It is very deep,” she whispered. “What did you see down there in the dark that you looked so steadily.”He shook his head. “Still,” he said; “listen.”Drawing his blanket more closely round him, he became motionless as before, his sombre eyes fixed on the gloomy depths and his ears alert, while she, feeling a little comforted by the presence of this watchful figure, turned her white face to the brilliant stars.In the cave Webster was recovering his strength in a profound sleep, while behind him the lean Gaika, stretched at length in the narrow tunnel, kept doggedly on guard, his position being the safest but the most trying, from the cramped surroundings and intense gloom.The post of danger, however, was on the eye, where Hume sat barring the only possible way of approach to the unknown enemy who had struck down Webster. Fully two thousand feet below him was the wide valley, hidden now by the blackness of night, and showing its depth only by one tiny point of red where a fire blazed in some kraal. To him there rose soft sounds, the lowing of cattle, the cry of wild animals, a song of natives, intermingled, and subdued by distance. There was a sense of companionship in the sounds, showing as they did the presence of living creatures near that lonely height; but they did not appeal to his stern nature. He sat with a grim purpose, his rifle cocked, his ears bent to detect some other noise, and his mind fixed only on the one purpose of defending his position. In this mysterious being, who had dogged their footsteps, whose every visit had put them to a severe trial, he knew he had to deal with someone not only possessed of extraordinary cunning, but who had a secret knowledge of his name and his mission. He would not sound the dangerous depth of speculation about the identity of the unknown, but sat on, determined and watchful.So they continued at their several posts well into the night until the wind rose, poured into the ravine, and as on the previous night, went moaning into the ear of the cave, and through the narrow tunnel.Hume stirred in his seat, and placed his finger on the trigger. The moment, he thought, had come. Then the faint crack of a rifle broke on his ear, followed by a confused murmur of voices, and almost at his feet, though far down, a circle of fires pierced the darkness with their red points. The fires were evidently on the deserted right side of the valley, and, as he judged, in the neighbourhood of the ruins.Bringing the rifle to his shoulder, and with his elbow resting on his knee, he idly sighted at one of these gleaming points. While his finger played with a come-and-go touch in the curve of the trigger, his nerves suddenly tightened at a slight sound. It was a sound made by a man expanding his nostrils, the noise he had heard at the reeds—and slowly bringing the muzzle round, he fired into the night. There was the vivid flash, the crashing report suddenly breaking the silence, and a startled cry from his rear, where Laura still sat dreaming near the still figure of the chief.Then a deeper silence than before, save that the wind wailed down the ravine; and Hume, softly rising to his feet, slipped in another cartridge.In a moment Sirayo was by his side, having come without a sound, and the two stood intently listening, without a whisper even of what had occurred.“Are you safe? Oh! what is it?” It was Laura’s frightened voice hailing.Sirayo clicked with his tongue at the interruption, and Hume half turned his head.“Frank,” she cried again, nearer at hand. “Frank; oh, how dark!”Hume thought of the narrow ledge, of the fearful precipice, of the danger of one false step in the dark, and cried out:“Stand where you are. I am coming.”Immediately the darkness below was pierced by lurid flashes, and bullets smacked against the rock or whistled fiercely overhead.Hume fired both barrels, and then swung behind the projecting rock which formed the ear of the face.“Oh, merciful Lady!” came in a gasp from behind.“Take her to the cave, chief,” said Hume quickly, “and return with the other gun.”Sirayo slipped away, and Hume, taking a heavy Colt’s revolver from his belt in his left hand, swung himself round and fired along the ledge on the further face of the mountain. The first shot was swiftly answered, and as quick as lightning, he emptied the remaining barrels, guided by the flashes.Sirayo returned, and Hume explained to him that the enemy must be advancing along a ledge which sloped away to their right for about one hundred paces, to disappear around a projecting rock.“We should hold this place against a hundred. The only danger is lest two or three should crawl up while their companions fire to attract our attention.”“It is easy to shoot wide in the dark,” muttered Sirayo, “but when a man gets close enough to thrust an assegai it is different.” He felt about with his naked feet to find the nature of the foothold.Hume fired again, drawing as before an instant reply, the bullets singing viciously overhead.“They fire high,” said Hume.“How wide is the ledge?”“It will take two men, crawling side by side.”“Soh! Here is a plan. Let one of us get out flat on the ledge. The other will stand here and fire. Then the other will hear if any advance on their bellies, and shoot.”“It is good; I will take the ledge.”“Nay, the plan is mine; I will take the ledge, and if the bullet misses, the assegai will not.”“No, chief; your assegai is good against one or two, but this little gun holds six lives.”“Go, then,” said Sirayo, with a grim chuckle; “but when your little gun has spoken let me try my assegai.”Hume took off his boots, laid his rifle and cartridge-belt aside, and then, feeling his way with his hands, he crept out, inch by inch, several yards, until he was well out on the ledge.Then he sat close against the wall of rock, with his revolver ready—waiting. It was a dangerous position, and his life depended on the keenness of his hearing and steadiness of nerve. Before him were cunning foes stealthily advancing, and within a yard was the lip of the sheer precipice.No sooner had he sat down than Sirayo, standing well out in the eye, fired, and the bullet, striking the side of the mountain, went humming into the darkness. A solitary shot replied; then another nearer, and a third still nearer; and immediately after the third report a shout rolled out, deep and fierce, thundering taunts.“Look out!” hissed Sirayo, and fired again.The shouting increased, and Hume’s grasp tightened on his revolver, while his breathing came quicker. What was that? The sound of metal touching the rock—just touching it—but the faint tinkle was enough. There were men crawling up, then! That soft noise—it must be made by naked men creeping. His arm stiffened—his eyes were riveted—he now scarcely breathed. Was that a darker shadow before him?—almost within reach—his finger closed on the trigger. There was a groan—the rattle of a spear falling—the flash of a gun almost in his face, so that the burning powder scorched his eyes, and he emptied his remaining barrels before covering his eyes with his hand. As he did so he heard at his side the double report as Sirayo, advancing, fired; heard the terrible Zulu war-cry, the clash of blades, the fierce grunting of men in a death struggle. But he sat helpless, blinded, in an agony of pain and apprehension. The sound of the fighting retreated, grew more fitful, died away, and with trembling fingers he refilled the empty chambers of his pistol, and waited, with his hand over his throbbing eyeballs. But the enemy did not come; instead he heard the voice of Sirayo calling:“Eh, Hu-em—Inkose!”—calling surely in some strangely unfamiliar tone of fear.“Hu-em, my friend, do not desert me.”“What is it, chief?”“Come; I cling to the rock.”“Good God!” cried Hume; “wait,” and painfully he groped his blind way along, grinding his teeth.“Quick, my friend!” cried the chief hoarsely.“Yes, yes; oh, God, for one moment’s strength!”“Frank, oh, Frank, where are you?”He turned his head at the sound. “Laura!” he cried.“Oh, thank Heaven!”“Listen,” he cried, steadying his voice by a supreme effort. “You will find a ledge on your right. Keep your right hand, to the rock and come on quickly, quickly, for God’s sake!”There was a sobbing reply, but he heard her come.“Where are you?”“Here; but go on quickly to the chief. He is in danger.”“But you—you are hurt?”“Go on,” he cried fiercely; and he felt the touch of her dress and heard her voice go out in a quivering cry for Sirayo.“Inkosikasi,” came the faint reply.She gave a shriek of terror as, guided by the heavy breathing of the chief, she felt his wrist, and slipping her hand over the straining muscles of the arm, found that he was hanging from the ledge.“Your other hand,” she said.“Broken!” he growled. “Woman weak—where Hu-em?”She stretched herself on the ledge, and, reaching over, grasped the shoulder-strap from which his bag was suspended.“No good,” he panted; then, in Zulu, he muttered: “It is a far drop, and every bone will be broken. To die like this. Inkosikasi!”“Well!” she gasped.“A gun is near. Find it and shoot! So Sirayo dies! Go—find.”“Hold on—help comes. If you fall you drag me. Frank!”There was a movement by her side, fingers felt along her outstretched hands, then closed upon the warrior’s wrist in a grasp of iron, and Hume, shutting his teeth, put forth all his strength.There was a scramble, a sob, the sound of deep panting breaths, and Sirayo was saved. Hume, with a cold sweat on his brow, fell back, almost swooning from the fierce throbbing of his eyes. Laura gave way to a fit of crying, and Sirayo, crawling along the ledge, lay at full length, breathing deeply.If the enemy had come now, not one of them could have lifted a finger in defence.
“He is not dead,” said Hume, as he earnestly studied the white face.
“Oh, thank Heaven! Quick! bring him in here out of the sun;” and, sitting down in the shadow of the opening, she took the wounded head upon her lap, and, with a firm, yet soft touch, parted the matted hairs. “Now get water and brandy.”
Hume went swiftly back to the place they had just left, and on his return with water he found she had cut away the hair with her scissors, which she always carried.
“It is only a surface wound. I think we have some maize meal left; give me some.”
Hume unbound a small bundle, and produced a packet of meal, of which she grasped a handful and laid it on the wound, pressing it with her hand till the oozing blood caked it into an impervious plaster.
“That will stop the bleeding. Now a drop of brandy,” and, taking a pannikin handed to her, she poured a few drops into his mouth, bathing his forehead with the rest. “Make a couch there with the blankets.” This was done, and the insensible form laid softly down.
Then she sat by his side, bathing his forehead at intervals, and watching with an absorbed look, while Hume stood near pale and silent, and the two natives crouched in the cave.
“Don’t stand there,” she said, without removing her gaze; “it irritates me. Find out how it happened.”
Hume stepped out on to a broad ledge and stood in a maze, looking without seeing anything, until the rush of an eagle before his face made him recoil and restored his faculties. Then he keenly noted the surroundings. The ledge terminated at the cave, and from its lip a frightful precipice sank down and down into the rock-strewn depths. On his right the ledge swept up the face of the krantz to where the Face stood out from the rock, about two hundred feet above. He noted that the outline was not so clear, the smoothness observable from a distance being broken up by cracks and inequalities, while the neck was detached, and in the eye was a jagged opening without design. Slowly he mounted towards the profile, scanning the ledge for a sign of human presence, but finding nothing but a certain polish on the rock, which might have been caused by the passage of human feet. Without difficulty, and without emotion, he stepped into the socket of the eye; but no sooner was he there, with one hand holding to the rock to support him, than he thrilled to the thought that at last the mysterious Golden Rock was in the range of his vision. He drew a deep breath, and, forgetting everything, stood looking at the scene spread in noble beauty at his feet. There it lay, calm, beautiful and peaceful, the valley of the shining rock; the place where no white man had entered; whose secret had been jealously protected for centuries, to find its way at last through those gloomy ravines to the solitary hunter, and from him to the three who had been so strangely thrown together, and who were risking all to win it. Far and wide stretched the valley, flanked on the east and south by the frowning battlement of rocky mountains; on the north and west by deep forests, whose dark and sombre mantle stretched without a break, a valley of gentle grassy undulations, with clusters of trees scattered about, and with a broad and shining river running through its centre. On the further side large herds of cattle grazed, the slopes leading to the river showed green in patches, where the mealies grew, while dozens of native kraals were visible, and diminutive figures moved about in the fields, about the huts, or along the winding paths. On the nearer side there were no cattle, neither people nor villages, nor the criss-cross of trodden paths, but only an irregular structure overgrown with bush, which marked, no doubt, the site of the ruins referred to in the map. Long he stood drinking in the scene, and making many guesses as to the place where the rock should be, until he remembered that there was no one with him to share this pleasure. Then he examined the rock about him, and saw that a ledge ran from his feet along the front of the mountain facing the valley, to disappear round a projecting shoulder about one hundred yards away. Returning to the cave, he found Laura still sitting by the still figure. She looked up with a smile as he entered.
“He is breathing regularly now, and the bleeding has stopped.”
“You have saved his life, then,” he said warmly; and added softly, “his life is yours.”
A deep flush suffused her face, and her lips trembled.
“Did you find anything?” she asked absently.
“No,” he answered, with a sigh; “but I have seen the casket that holds our treasure. I have looked on the valley from the eye. We are very near it at last. Will you come and see?”
“I will wait till he can join us. It is at sunrise only—is it not?—we can see the Golden Rock. And to-morrow, then, let us stand together and watch for the ray that is to guide us.”
Hume looked at Webster, and he remembered the silent mysterious foe who had dogged their footsteps. “If to-morrow’s sun shines for us,” he murmured.
At last, in the afternoon, Webster suddenly sat up, and with a wild glare in his eyes, stared around him.
“We are here, Jim,” she whispered softly.
The bloodshot eyes sought her pale face. “And Frank?” he asked. She drew aside, showing Hume standing there.
“Look out!” he cried hoarsely, “there is danger here. I was struck down just now by some unseen hand. Give me my rifle.”
“There is no fear at present,” she said gently. “Several hours have gone since we found you here.”
“And Laura has nursed you all that time;” and Hume placed her hand in that of the wounded man.
Then he stepped out again to keep guard, while Klaas, who had been very subdued, took infinite pains to make the kettle boil out of such scanty fuel as he could find. When night closed down Webster was able to sit up, but was still too dizzy to stand, and could not, much to his concern, take his turn at guard. Klaas was stationed at the back of the cave, Sirayo at its mouth, while Hume went forward to seat himself in the eye itself.
There was a profound silence up in that lofty eyrie, and the long-continued strain they had been subjected to made them more liable to the sad influence of the surroundings. In the dim light Laura could see the blanketed figure of the Zulu chief, seated like a stone image on the ledge overhanging the deep ravine, and as she watched the blurred outline minute after minute without seeing any movement, she began at first to speculate on his reflections; but this train of thought rapidly melted into a vague uneasiness, giving way again to a feeling of superstition. Her breath came quicker, and to still her fears she moved softly out on to the ledge and laid a timid hand on the bowed shoulder of the immovable savage.
He turned his head quickly at the touch, his eyes gleaming.
“I was afraid,” she whispered, shuddering, and sat down near him, while he, after a steady look around, gravely took snuff.
“Much dark,” he growled in broken English. “Inkosikasi not like. Sit here; sleep—no!” and leaning over, he gently touched the lip of the precipice with his assegai.
“It is very deep,” she whispered. “What did you see down there in the dark that you looked so steadily.”
He shook his head. “Still,” he said; “listen.”
Drawing his blanket more closely round him, he became motionless as before, his sombre eyes fixed on the gloomy depths and his ears alert, while she, feeling a little comforted by the presence of this watchful figure, turned her white face to the brilliant stars.
In the cave Webster was recovering his strength in a profound sleep, while behind him the lean Gaika, stretched at length in the narrow tunnel, kept doggedly on guard, his position being the safest but the most trying, from the cramped surroundings and intense gloom.
The post of danger, however, was on the eye, where Hume sat barring the only possible way of approach to the unknown enemy who had struck down Webster. Fully two thousand feet below him was the wide valley, hidden now by the blackness of night, and showing its depth only by one tiny point of red where a fire blazed in some kraal. To him there rose soft sounds, the lowing of cattle, the cry of wild animals, a song of natives, intermingled, and subdued by distance. There was a sense of companionship in the sounds, showing as they did the presence of living creatures near that lonely height; but they did not appeal to his stern nature. He sat with a grim purpose, his rifle cocked, his ears bent to detect some other noise, and his mind fixed only on the one purpose of defending his position. In this mysterious being, who had dogged their footsteps, whose every visit had put them to a severe trial, he knew he had to deal with someone not only possessed of extraordinary cunning, but who had a secret knowledge of his name and his mission. He would not sound the dangerous depth of speculation about the identity of the unknown, but sat on, determined and watchful.
So they continued at their several posts well into the night until the wind rose, poured into the ravine, and as on the previous night, went moaning into the ear of the cave, and through the narrow tunnel.
Hume stirred in his seat, and placed his finger on the trigger. The moment, he thought, had come. Then the faint crack of a rifle broke on his ear, followed by a confused murmur of voices, and almost at his feet, though far down, a circle of fires pierced the darkness with their red points. The fires were evidently on the deserted right side of the valley, and, as he judged, in the neighbourhood of the ruins.
Bringing the rifle to his shoulder, and with his elbow resting on his knee, he idly sighted at one of these gleaming points. While his finger played with a come-and-go touch in the curve of the trigger, his nerves suddenly tightened at a slight sound. It was a sound made by a man expanding his nostrils, the noise he had heard at the reeds—and slowly bringing the muzzle round, he fired into the night. There was the vivid flash, the crashing report suddenly breaking the silence, and a startled cry from his rear, where Laura still sat dreaming near the still figure of the chief.
Then a deeper silence than before, save that the wind wailed down the ravine; and Hume, softly rising to his feet, slipped in another cartridge.
In a moment Sirayo was by his side, having come without a sound, and the two stood intently listening, without a whisper even of what had occurred.
“Are you safe? Oh! what is it?” It was Laura’s frightened voice hailing.
Sirayo clicked with his tongue at the interruption, and Hume half turned his head.
“Frank,” she cried again, nearer at hand. “Frank; oh, how dark!”
Hume thought of the narrow ledge, of the fearful precipice, of the danger of one false step in the dark, and cried out:
“Stand where you are. I am coming.”
Immediately the darkness below was pierced by lurid flashes, and bullets smacked against the rock or whistled fiercely overhead.
Hume fired both barrels, and then swung behind the projecting rock which formed the ear of the face.
“Oh, merciful Lady!” came in a gasp from behind.
“Take her to the cave, chief,” said Hume quickly, “and return with the other gun.”
Sirayo slipped away, and Hume, taking a heavy Colt’s revolver from his belt in his left hand, swung himself round and fired along the ledge on the further face of the mountain. The first shot was swiftly answered, and as quick as lightning, he emptied the remaining barrels, guided by the flashes.
Sirayo returned, and Hume explained to him that the enemy must be advancing along a ledge which sloped away to their right for about one hundred paces, to disappear around a projecting rock.
“We should hold this place against a hundred. The only danger is lest two or three should crawl up while their companions fire to attract our attention.”
“It is easy to shoot wide in the dark,” muttered Sirayo, “but when a man gets close enough to thrust an assegai it is different.” He felt about with his naked feet to find the nature of the foothold.
Hume fired again, drawing as before an instant reply, the bullets singing viciously overhead.
“They fire high,” said Hume.
“How wide is the ledge?”
“It will take two men, crawling side by side.”
“Soh! Here is a plan. Let one of us get out flat on the ledge. The other will stand here and fire. Then the other will hear if any advance on their bellies, and shoot.”
“It is good; I will take the ledge.”
“Nay, the plan is mine; I will take the ledge, and if the bullet misses, the assegai will not.”
“No, chief; your assegai is good against one or two, but this little gun holds six lives.”
“Go, then,” said Sirayo, with a grim chuckle; “but when your little gun has spoken let me try my assegai.”
Hume took off his boots, laid his rifle and cartridge-belt aside, and then, feeling his way with his hands, he crept out, inch by inch, several yards, until he was well out on the ledge.
Then he sat close against the wall of rock, with his revolver ready—waiting. It was a dangerous position, and his life depended on the keenness of his hearing and steadiness of nerve. Before him were cunning foes stealthily advancing, and within a yard was the lip of the sheer precipice.
No sooner had he sat down than Sirayo, standing well out in the eye, fired, and the bullet, striking the side of the mountain, went humming into the darkness. A solitary shot replied; then another nearer, and a third still nearer; and immediately after the third report a shout rolled out, deep and fierce, thundering taunts.
“Look out!” hissed Sirayo, and fired again.
The shouting increased, and Hume’s grasp tightened on his revolver, while his breathing came quicker. What was that? The sound of metal touching the rock—just touching it—but the faint tinkle was enough. There were men crawling up, then! That soft noise—it must be made by naked men creeping. His arm stiffened—his eyes were riveted—he now scarcely breathed. Was that a darker shadow before him?—almost within reach—his finger closed on the trigger. There was a groan—the rattle of a spear falling—the flash of a gun almost in his face, so that the burning powder scorched his eyes, and he emptied his remaining barrels before covering his eyes with his hand. As he did so he heard at his side the double report as Sirayo, advancing, fired; heard the terrible Zulu war-cry, the clash of blades, the fierce grunting of men in a death struggle. But he sat helpless, blinded, in an agony of pain and apprehension. The sound of the fighting retreated, grew more fitful, died away, and with trembling fingers he refilled the empty chambers of his pistol, and waited, with his hand over his throbbing eyeballs. But the enemy did not come; instead he heard the voice of Sirayo calling:
“Eh, Hu-em—Inkose!”—calling surely in some strangely unfamiliar tone of fear.
“Hu-em, my friend, do not desert me.”
“What is it, chief?”
“Come; I cling to the rock.”
“Good God!” cried Hume; “wait,” and painfully he groped his blind way along, grinding his teeth.
“Quick, my friend!” cried the chief hoarsely.
“Yes, yes; oh, God, for one moment’s strength!”
“Frank, oh, Frank, where are you?”
He turned his head at the sound. “Laura!” he cried.
“Oh, thank Heaven!”
“Listen,” he cried, steadying his voice by a supreme effort. “You will find a ledge on your right. Keep your right hand, to the rock and come on quickly, quickly, for God’s sake!”
There was a sobbing reply, but he heard her come.
“Where are you?”
“Here; but go on quickly to the chief. He is in danger.”
“But you—you are hurt?”
“Go on,” he cried fiercely; and he felt the touch of her dress and heard her voice go out in a quivering cry for Sirayo.
“Inkosikasi,” came the faint reply.
She gave a shriek of terror as, guided by the heavy breathing of the chief, she felt his wrist, and slipping her hand over the straining muscles of the arm, found that he was hanging from the ledge.
“Your other hand,” she said.
“Broken!” he growled. “Woman weak—where Hu-em?”
She stretched herself on the ledge, and, reaching over, grasped the shoulder-strap from which his bag was suspended.
“No good,” he panted; then, in Zulu, he muttered: “It is a far drop, and every bone will be broken. To die like this. Inkosikasi!”
“Well!” she gasped.
“A gun is near. Find it and shoot! So Sirayo dies! Go—find.”
“Hold on—help comes. If you fall you drag me. Frank!”
There was a movement by her side, fingers felt along her outstretched hands, then closed upon the warrior’s wrist in a grasp of iron, and Hume, shutting his teeth, put forth all his strength.
There was a scramble, a sob, the sound of deep panting breaths, and Sirayo was saved. Hume, with a cold sweat on his brow, fell back, almost swooning from the fierce throbbing of his eyes. Laura gave way to a fit of crying, and Sirayo, crawling along the ledge, lay at full length, breathing deeply.
If the enemy had come now, not one of them could have lifted a finger in defence.