Chapter Eight.

Chapter Eight.Zero.Though quietly settled down for the night, our friends had yet, however, to learn that they hod not altogether done with the Mormon-cum-Slaver fraternity, who evidently could not rest satisfied, or allow the day to close, without making a particularly abominable attempt to get even with the fugitives and their new-found friends.In the very dead of night, as Leigh and Amaxosa stood on guard at the mouth of the cave, conversing in an undertone, they were treated to a new and extremely objectionable sample of the qualities of their detested foes. The fire behind them inside the cavern had completely burnt itself out, and close to its ashes lay Grenville, sleeping heavily, whilst the other members of the party were scattered about the cave on beds of moss or dried grass. Not a sound of any kind betokening the presence of a foe had the anxious watchers heard, when all of a sudden both were startled into action by an angry hiss just behind them, followed by the well-known and universally dreaded “skirr” of a rattlesnake, and quickly lighting a torch of twisted grass, the pair saw the horrid reptile gliding down the cave towards them, evidently making for the entrance. Seizing a native sword, Amaxosa rushed at the snake with a wild shout. Instantly the reptile stopped in its tortuous course, and reared itself to strike, but the active Zulu was altogether too quick for it, and, with one fell sweep of his keen weapon, drove its head clean from its body, when something was heard to roll with a hollow, bell-like sound upon the rocky floor.As Amaxosa’s voice went ringing up the arches of the cavern, each occupant had sprung to his feet in an instant, with arms in his hands, and Grenville was himself the first to step forward and pick up the article, the fall of which had caused the ringing noise referred to. He gave but a single glance at this hollow, silver ring, for such it was, and then handed it to the Zulu chief, with the one word, “Apollyon!”“Ay! Inkoos,” was the answer, “I saw the shining circlet ere I struck, and the sight lent strength to my arm, for well I knew that if the blow did not go home I should not live to strike again. Glad am I, my father, that yon evil beast is dead, for I ever feared it more than I feared the evil ones themselves.”Grenville then explained to Kenyon and the wonder-stricken Leigh that this horrible reptile was a pet snake, kept by the white woman they had that day seen in the enclosure, and who, going by the name of Zero’s wife, was at this time the dominating female spirit of the Mormon Community in Equatoria, as the adjacent slave-town was called. This infernal nineteenth-century harpy had made the snake, “Apollyon,” her peculiar care, andby continual practice upon ailing or dying slaveshad trained it to follow a trail, and to fix itself upon any person of whom she gave it the scent, quite as surely, and infinitely more quietly and fatally, than even Zero’s own particular bloodhounds. It was self-evident that the reptile had been commissioned to destroy Grenville, and would most certainly have succeeded in doing so had not an all-merciful Providence willed otherwise. Unfortunately for the snake, it had drawn its loathsome coils right across the spot where the fire had recently been blazing, and, although the wood had quite burnt itself out, the floor of the cave was still absolutely red-hot, and the whole stomach of the snake was in consequence terribly scorched and blistered, and the sudden agony had no doubt caused it to emit the warning hiss which had put Amaxosa on his guard, whilst the severe nature of its injuries had probably contributed, in no small degree, to the success of his attack, by rendering the motions of the reptile unusually slow and extremely painful. Anyhow, it was a miraculous and providential escape, for which all felt uncommonly thankful, and Leigh heard with unconcealed satisfaction that the snake in question was positively the only one so trained which the vindictive Madame Zero had in her possession.This unpleasant adventure had fairly killed all chance of sleep for that night, so after our trio of friends had lighted their pipes, Kenyon drew Leigh and Grenville on one side out of earshot of the rest of the party. “And now,” said he, “let us seriously consider our position, for it is one of very great danger; but first, give me your attention, Leigh, whilst I fulfil my promise and relate to you the history of Zero so far as it is known to me, after which your cousin will doubtless cap my information with a few interesting and instructive details regarding the life and opinions of the greatest scoundrel on the face of the earth.“Zero, whose real name by the way is Monckton Bassett, is, I am ashamed to admit, an American by birth, and hails from New York, where his father originally figured as a respectable and a fairly successful foreign merchant. Master Bassett was an only and a precocious child, and having at the early age of twenty-three succeeded in breaking his poor mother’s heart by the wild wickedness of his ways, and ruining his foolishly indulgent father by wheedling him into bearing from time to time the expense of a systematic and unsuccessful gambling career, next threw in his lot with a villainous card-sharper named Weston Harper, through whose instrumentality he first came under the notice of the police, being, as I proved at the time, very nearly concerned in a burglary committed upon the house of a wealthy New Yorker, to whose daughter he had formerly been engaged. This gentleman, however, Mr Harmsworth by name, had abruptly put a stop to the embryo love affair when he accidentally learned the life that his would-be son-in-law was leading. The burglary was not the worst of it; for Mr Harmsworth was deliberately and unnecessarily shot dead in his bed, and there was every reason to believe that young Bassett’s hand had fired the fatal shot, though I could never absolutely bring the murder home to him. However, we fixed the burglary on this precious pair, and both got a ten-years’ sentence, but escaped by bribing the gaolers, and successfully made their way to Salt Lake City, after which, like a fool, I ceased to bother my head about them. This was six years ago you see,” added Kenyon, “and I wasn’t quite so well posted in the ways of criminals as I am now supposed to be. Well, gentlemen, about a couple of years after this I myself became affianced to a sweet young girl named Roxana Kenyon, my own cousin on the father’s side; and, as I was rapidly rising in my new profession, we had every prospect of being united at no distant date; but, to save time, I had better carry my story forward another two years—that is, bringing it to the year 1879, when our wedding-day was fixed for the 15th of April. Our house was taken and furnished throughout, and everything was duly arranged; but, on the night before the wedding, my bride disappeared as completely as if the very earth had opened and swallowed her.” For a moment the stern detective faltered, and, overcome by his conflicting emotions, buried his face in his bands, quickly, however, recovering himself and continuing his story. “There,” he said impatiently, “it was all over, and the rest is soon told. On Roxana’s bed, which had not been slept in, I discovered a scrap of white paper with a dead black circle skilfully drawn upon it—exactly similar, let me remark, to that hieroglyphic found upon the body of the late Lady Drelincourt, only that in my case, upon the reverse side of the paper, there appeared the words: ‘Zero gets even with Stanforth Kenyon over the Harmsworth burglary.’ I knew the writing well, and the hand that wrote it was the hand of Monckton Bassett. Without loss of time, I beat up his career subsequent to the burglary and prior to the abduction, and discovered through trusted agents that he had been absent from the New World for nearly three years, and after having returned to Utah, possessed of considerable property and accompanied by the woman he calls his wife, had again gone abroad, and was then believed to be somewhere in South Africa engaged upon business connected with the community of the Latter Day Saints.“I at once sent in my resignation to the Chief of Police, who, however, refused to accept it, giving me instead a three years’ holiday to prosecute my search, as well as many kindly offers of assistance both monetary and official. Declining the former, I sailed for Cape Town as soon as ever I could possibly get away, and finally worked round to Durban, where, in a lucky moment for all of us, I tumbled up against Leigh’s advertisement, and, recognising in Driffield an old friend of mine, professional instinct prompted me to call and pump him with regard to Grenville the missing; but it was only after the lawyer had made me a most generous offer with the object of inducing me to lead a search party into the Interior, and had given me the history of the adventures of you two in East Utah, that a sudden inspiration gave me the clue to Monckton Bassett’s whereabouts.“Zero, I said to myself, means just nothing at all: why then has this man—who, by the way, thinks no small beer of himself—adopted such an extraordinary name?“Next, is there any place or district in Africa bearing the name of Zero. No! Stop! then like a living ray of light upon my mental darkness was flashed the answer—the Line—the Equatorial Line—Number Nought—that is Zero. I wired New York at once, obtained the latest particulars of his known movements, and then, with complete faith in my good angel, I shut up my notebook, went right off to Driffield and engaged myself in the search both body and soul. And now, my friends, I am here, and you, Grenville, are free, and all I ask is that you will both wait long enough for me to settle my little account with this infernal scoundrel, and then Westward Ho! for all of us.”“One moment, Kenyon,” interjected Leigh; “I claim this fiend from hell as my personal property. Think, man, you have but lost one who, it is true, was almost your wife; but I, ah! God, he owes me everything—wife, child, my love, my life—my very trust in Heaven, and for this I hold my right to prove upon his vile body to be before the right of any living man;” and, strung to the highest pitch, by the very worst and strongest passions of human nature, these two firm friends fairly glared at one another in the thoughtless anger of this intense moment.“Peace! gentlemen,” said the attentive Grenville, “peace! Remember I too have a right to act in this matter, if aught of wrong received upon this earth can give the right of revenge upon a fellow-man. Nay, Alf, I am not seeking to enforce my claim. God’s hand rests upon this curse of Central Africa, as I told him to his face, and when his time comes he must go even as we; yet do I fervently pray that one of ourselves may be the fleshly instrument selected to cause his going.“And now, Kenyon, how called you your affianced wife?—Roxana, was it not?—Roxana—ay, an Asiatic name signifying, if I mistake not, the ‘Goddess of the Morning.’ It must be the same—hear me out, old fellow,” as Kenyon rose, fairly trembling with excitement. “A young white woman, known amongst the natives by a name signifying ‘The Star of the Morning,’ and reputed to be very fair to look upon, was brought over from Madagascar to Zanzibar by Zero and his so-called wife, and was a prisoner in their hands until just before the time that I and my men were taken captives by his band. He was then working his way up here from the coast—but during his absence from camp one day, his zareeba was stormed by a horde of Arabs, who swept out the best half of his property, including the white girl and upwards of one hundred repeating-rifles, the latter having been purchased and carefully smuggled in for the use of his men.“When Zero returned, he behaved, I heard, like a creature bereft of his senses; he had, of course, expected to make ‘big money’ out of the sale of the girl, and to reduce the Arabs themselves with the Winchesters, whereas the boot was now very much on the other leg. I also heard that he cautiously followed the tracks of the spoilers, but found that the girl had persuaded them to take her to Zanzibar, where she was quickly liberated through the kind agency of the British Consul, and was supposed to have left for America. Zero then made tracks for home, and came upon our hunting party in an evil hour, and the rest you know.”Kenyon gripped Grenville’s hand in silence, and the tears chased one another rapidly down his cheeks. “God bless you, old fellow,” he blurted out at last: “it was well worth saving your life, if only for this—I was fast becoming a brute, and you’ve given me back love and hope, and with them my faith in Heaven.” Grenville and his cousin rose quietly and left him alone with the cruel memories of the darksome past and the bright hopes of the near future, and nothing in all their lives became them better; but as they walked away Leigh put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder: “Good old Dick,” he said, in a tone of anguish, “you have no hope nor help forme.” Then his voice changing to a positive hiss—“You may talk till you’re black in the face, my boy, but I’ll never leave this spot until I’ve sent back yonder cursed scoundrel to the hell from whence he came.”Before Grenville could answer, however, Kenyon called to the twain to return, and, sitting down again, Grenville gave his companions a pretty full account of the abominable cruelties of Zero and his “wife,” and of the way they were devastating the country in almost every direction; and Kenyon now learnt, to his surprise, that an enormous slave-trade was done in the very heart of Africa, and that so far from trafficking in “Black Ivory” direct with the Coast, either east or west, the slavers’ market for human flesh and blood was found principally amongst tribes which lay to the west of Equatoria, and as the purchase money—when not provided in ivory—usually consisted of pure rock-gold or gold-dust packed in quills, the slaves were in all probability passed on to Dahomey or Asyanti, whence they no doubt gravitated northwards and ultimately found their way to Morocco, travelling incredible distances and constantly changing hands.Towards the rising sun Master Zero’s operations were of a restricted, and, to him, an extremely unsatisfactory nature, as his position was everywhere hemmed in by hostile Arabs, who kept with a strong hand the country they had originally secured by artifice, and to whom, as followers of “the one True Prophet,” Zero was doubly hateful, on account of his Mormon connections.The man was himself absent at the present time, personally conducting an important “slave-drive,” but might be expected back in the course of two or three days, when the whole of his captives would be passed on to the native King, whom the slavers were now busily entertaining, and who was, in fact, simply waiting for Zero’s return to “make his trade” and march westward with his purchases; and until this matter was satisfactorily disposed of, Grenville was inclined to believe that no serious attempt would be made to interfere with themselves, but once let this fiend in human form get clear of the pressing business in hand, and he would promptly turn his attention to their own little account and would give them no rest until the affair was settled, one way or the other.

Though quietly settled down for the night, our friends had yet, however, to learn that they hod not altogether done with the Mormon-cum-Slaver fraternity, who evidently could not rest satisfied, or allow the day to close, without making a particularly abominable attempt to get even with the fugitives and their new-found friends.

In the very dead of night, as Leigh and Amaxosa stood on guard at the mouth of the cave, conversing in an undertone, they were treated to a new and extremely objectionable sample of the qualities of their detested foes. The fire behind them inside the cavern had completely burnt itself out, and close to its ashes lay Grenville, sleeping heavily, whilst the other members of the party were scattered about the cave on beds of moss or dried grass. Not a sound of any kind betokening the presence of a foe had the anxious watchers heard, when all of a sudden both were startled into action by an angry hiss just behind them, followed by the well-known and universally dreaded “skirr” of a rattlesnake, and quickly lighting a torch of twisted grass, the pair saw the horrid reptile gliding down the cave towards them, evidently making for the entrance. Seizing a native sword, Amaxosa rushed at the snake with a wild shout. Instantly the reptile stopped in its tortuous course, and reared itself to strike, but the active Zulu was altogether too quick for it, and, with one fell sweep of his keen weapon, drove its head clean from its body, when something was heard to roll with a hollow, bell-like sound upon the rocky floor.

As Amaxosa’s voice went ringing up the arches of the cavern, each occupant had sprung to his feet in an instant, with arms in his hands, and Grenville was himself the first to step forward and pick up the article, the fall of which had caused the ringing noise referred to. He gave but a single glance at this hollow, silver ring, for such it was, and then handed it to the Zulu chief, with the one word, “Apollyon!”

“Ay! Inkoos,” was the answer, “I saw the shining circlet ere I struck, and the sight lent strength to my arm, for well I knew that if the blow did not go home I should not live to strike again. Glad am I, my father, that yon evil beast is dead, for I ever feared it more than I feared the evil ones themselves.”

Grenville then explained to Kenyon and the wonder-stricken Leigh that this horrible reptile was a pet snake, kept by the white woman they had that day seen in the enclosure, and who, going by the name of Zero’s wife, was at this time the dominating female spirit of the Mormon Community in Equatoria, as the adjacent slave-town was called. This infernal nineteenth-century harpy had made the snake, “Apollyon,” her peculiar care, andby continual practice upon ailing or dying slaveshad trained it to follow a trail, and to fix itself upon any person of whom she gave it the scent, quite as surely, and infinitely more quietly and fatally, than even Zero’s own particular bloodhounds. It was self-evident that the reptile had been commissioned to destroy Grenville, and would most certainly have succeeded in doing so had not an all-merciful Providence willed otherwise. Unfortunately for the snake, it had drawn its loathsome coils right across the spot where the fire had recently been blazing, and, although the wood had quite burnt itself out, the floor of the cave was still absolutely red-hot, and the whole stomach of the snake was in consequence terribly scorched and blistered, and the sudden agony had no doubt caused it to emit the warning hiss which had put Amaxosa on his guard, whilst the severe nature of its injuries had probably contributed, in no small degree, to the success of his attack, by rendering the motions of the reptile unusually slow and extremely painful. Anyhow, it was a miraculous and providential escape, for which all felt uncommonly thankful, and Leigh heard with unconcealed satisfaction that the snake in question was positively the only one so trained which the vindictive Madame Zero had in her possession.

This unpleasant adventure had fairly killed all chance of sleep for that night, so after our trio of friends had lighted their pipes, Kenyon drew Leigh and Grenville on one side out of earshot of the rest of the party. “And now,” said he, “let us seriously consider our position, for it is one of very great danger; but first, give me your attention, Leigh, whilst I fulfil my promise and relate to you the history of Zero so far as it is known to me, after which your cousin will doubtless cap my information with a few interesting and instructive details regarding the life and opinions of the greatest scoundrel on the face of the earth.

“Zero, whose real name by the way is Monckton Bassett, is, I am ashamed to admit, an American by birth, and hails from New York, where his father originally figured as a respectable and a fairly successful foreign merchant. Master Bassett was an only and a precocious child, and having at the early age of twenty-three succeeded in breaking his poor mother’s heart by the wild wickedness of his ways, and ruining his foolishly indulgent father by wheedling him into bearing from time to time the expense of a systematic and unsuccessful gambling career, next threw in his lot with a villainous card-sharper named Weston Harper, through whose instrumentality he first came under the notice of the police, being, as I proved at the time, very nearly concerned in a burglary committed upon the house of a wealthy New Yorker, to whose daughter he had formerly been engaged. This gentleman, however, Mr Harmsworth by name, had abruptly put a stop to the embryo love affair when he accidentally learned the life that his would-be son-in-law was leading. The burglary was not the worst of it; for Mr Harmsworth was deliberately and unnecessarily shot dead in his bed, and there was every reason to believe that young Bassett’s hand had fired the fatal shot, though I could never absolutely bring the murder home to him. However, we fixed the burglary on this precious pair, and both got a ten-years’ sentence, but escaped by bribing the gaolers, and successfully made their way to Salt Lake City, after which, like a fool, I ceased to bother my head about them. This was six years ago you see,” added Kenyon, “and I wasn’t quite so well posted in the ways of criminals as I am now supposed to be. Well, gentlemen, about a couple of years after this I myself became affianced to a sweet young girl named Roxana Kenyon, my own cousin on the father’s side; and, as I was rapidly rising in my new profession, we had every prospect of being united at no distant date; but, to save time, I had better carry my story forward another two years—that is, bringing it to the year 1879, when our wedding-day was fixed for the 15th of April. Our house was taken and furnished throughout, and everything was duly arranged; but, on the night before the wedding, my bride disappeared as completely as if the very earth had opened and swallowed her.” For a moment the stern detective faltered, and, overcome by his conflicting emotions, buried his face in his bands, quickly, however, recovering himself and continuing his story. “There,” he said impatiently, “it was all over, and the rest is soon told. On Roxana’s bed, which had not been slept in, I discovered a scrap of white paper with a dead black circle skilfully drawn upon it—exactly similar, let me remark, to that hieroglyphic found upon the body of the late Lady Drelincourt, only that in my case, upon the reverse side of the paper, there appeared the words: ‘Zero gets even with Stanforth Kenyon over the Harmsworth burglary.’ I knew the writing well, and the hand that wrote it was the hand of Monckton Bassett. Without loss of time, I beat up his career subsequent to the burglary and prior to the abduction, and discovered through trusted agents that he had been absent from the New World for nearly three years, and after having returned to Utah, possessed of considerable property and accompanied by the woman he calls his wife, had again gone abroad, and was then believed to be somewhere in South Africa engaged upon business connected with the community of the Latter Day Saints.

“I at once sent in my resignation to the Chief of Police, who, however, refused to accept it, giving me instead a three years’ holiday to prosecute my search, as well as many kindly offers of assistance both monetary and official. Declining the former, I sailed for Cape Town as soon as ever I could possibly get away, and finally worked round to Durban, where, in a lucky moment for all of us, I tumbled up against Leigh’s advertisement, and, recognising in Driffield an old friend of mine, professional instinct prompted me to call and pump him with regard to Grenville the missing; but it was only after the lawyer had made me a most generous offer with the object of inducing me to lead a search party into the Interior, and had given me the history of the adventures of you two in East Utah, that a sudden inspiration gave me the clue to Monckton Bassett’s whereabouts.

“Zero, I said to myself, means just nothing at all: why then has this man—who, by the way, thinks no small beer of himself—adopted such an extraordinary name?

“Next, is there any place or district in Africa bearing the name of Zero. No! Stop! then like a living ray of light upon my mental darkness was flashed the answer—the Line—the Equatorial Line—Number Nought—that is Zero. I wired New York at once, obtained the latest particulars of his known movements, and then, with complete faith in my good angel, I shut up my notebook, went right off to Driffield and engaged myself in the search both body and soul. And now, my friends, I am here, and you, Grenville, are free, and all I ask is that you will both wait long enough for me to settle my little account with this infernal scoundrel, and then Westward Ho! for all of us.”

“One moment, Kenyon,” interjected Leigh; “I claim this fiend from hell as my personal property. Think, man, you have but lost one who, it is true, was almost your wife; but I, ah! God, he owes me everything—wife, child, my love, my life—my very trust in Heaven, and for this I hold my right to prove upon his vile body to be before the right of any living man;” and, strung to the highest pitch, by the very worst and strongest passions of human nature, these two firm friends fairly glared at one another in the thoughtless anger of this intense moment.

“Peace! gentlemen,” said the attentive Grenville, “peace! Remember I too have a right to act in this matter, if aught of wrong received upon this earth can give the right of revenge upon a fellow-man. Nay, Alf, I am not seeking to enforce my claim. God’s hand rests upon this curse of Central Africa, as I told him to his face, and when his time comes he must go even as we; yet do I fervently pray that one of ourselves may be the fleshly instrument selected to cause his going.

“And now, Kenyon, how called you your affianced wife?—Roxana, was it not?—Roxana—ay, an Asiatic name signifying, if I mistake not, the ‘Goddess of the Morning.’ It must be the same—hear me out, old fellow,” as Kenyon rose, fairly trembling with excitement. “A young white woman, known amongst the natives by a name signifying ‘The Star of the Morning,’ and reputed to be very fair to look upon, was brought over from Madagascar to Zanzibar by Zero and his so-called wife, and was a prisoner in their hands until just before the time that I and my men were taken captives by his band. He was then working his way up here from the coast—but during his absence from camp one day, his zareeba was stormed by a horde of Arabs, who swept out the best half of his property, including the white girl and upwards of one hundred repeating-rifles, the latter having been purchased and carefully smuggled in for the use of his men.

“When Zero returned, he behaved, I heard, like a creature bereft of his senses; he had, of course, expected to make ‘big money’ out of the sale of the girl, and to reduce the Arabs themselves with the Winchesters, whereas the boot was now very much on the other leg. I also heard that he cautiously followed the tracks of the spoilers, but found that the girl had persuaded them to take her to Zanzibar, where she was quickly liberated through the kind agency of the British Consul, and was supposed to have left for America. Zero then made tracks for home, and came upon our hunting party in an evil hour, and the rest you know.”

Kenyon gripped Grenville’s hand in silence, and the tears chased one another rapidly down his cheeks. “God bless you, old fellow,” he blurted out at last: “it was well worth saving your life, if only for this—I was fast becoming a brute, and you’ve given me back love and hope, and with them my faith in Heaven.” Grenville and his cousin rose quietly and left him alone with the cruel memories of the darksome past and the bright hopes of the near future, and nothing in all their lives became them better; but as they walked away Leigh put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder: “Good old Dick,” he said, in a tone of anguish, “you have no hope nor help forme.” Then his voice changing to a positive hiss—“You may talk till you’re black in the face, my boy, but I’ll never leave this spot until I’ve sent back yonder cursed scoundrel to the hell from whence he came.”

Before Grenville could answer, however, Kenyon called to the twain to return, and, sitting down again, Grenville gave his companions a pretty full account of the abominable cruelties of Zero and his “wife,” and of the way they were devastating the country in almost every direction; and Kenyon now learnt, to his surprise, that an enormous slave-trade was done in the very heart of Africa, and that so far from trafficking in “Black Ivory” direct with the Coast, either east or west, the slavers’ market for human flesh and blood was found principally amongst tribes which lay to the west of Equatoria, and as the purchase money—when not provided in ivory—usually consisted of pure rock-gold or gold-dust packed in quills, the slaves were in all probability passed on to Dahomey or Asyanti, whence they no doubt gravitated northwards and ultimately found their way to Morocco, travelling incredible distances and constantly changing hands.

Towards the rising sun Master Zero’s operations were of a restricted, and, to him, an extremely unsatisfactory nature, as his position was everywhere hemmed in by hostile Arabs, who kept with a strong hand the country they had originally secured by artifice, and to whom, as followers of “the one True Prophet,” Zero was doubly hateful, on account of his Mormon connections.

The man was himself absent at the present time, personally conducting an important “slave-drive,” but might be expected back in the course of two or three days, when the whole of his captives would be passed on to the native King, whom the slavers were now busily entertaining, and who was, in fact, simply waiting for Zero’s return to “make his trade” and march westward with his purchases; and until this matter was satisfactorily disposed of, Grenville was inclined to believe that no serious attempt would be made to interfere with themselves, but once let this fiend in human form get clear of the pressing business in hand, and he would promptly turn his attention to their own little account and would give them no rest until the affair was settled, one way or the other.

Chapter Nine.The War Trail.As the question had now purely resolved into one of warfare, offensive or defensive, Amaxosa was called into council, in order that a definite and feasible plan of action might be formulated.Leigh and Kenyon were disposed to stay just where they were, as the place seemed well-adapted for defence, had an ample supply of water, and was, at the same time, sufficiently close to Equatoria to be handy in the event of their party finding it desirable to sally out upon Zero’s position.Grenville, however, was distrustful with regard to the cave itself, as he half-suspected that Muzi Zimba the hermit had a secret method of entering the Mormon Town without going all round by the forest; and if such a way existed, Zero would be quite certain to know of it, although his followers might be kept, in ignorance for a purpose; and, of course, it would never do for our friends to get themselves fixed between two fires.The Zulu chief listened intently to all the argumentsproandcon, but never opened his mouth until Grenville, addressing him in the Zulu tongue, asked him to express his opinion upon the matter under notice.“Can my father,” he said, “tell his son Amaxosa, whither the Black One (Zero) has journeyed?”“Surely, my brother,” answered Grenville, “didst thou not hear when but yesterday we stood yonder tethered like oxen for the slaughter that he had compassed thrice three days’ travel towards the east, and that his bloodhounds could not return in time to gnaw the flesh from our broken bones?”“Ay, Inkoos,” was the reply, “I heard the words, but yet believed them not. Hearken! my father, when the Black One went forth, he went at dead of night, and with him went the savage dogs and but one hundred men with guns. Think, then, my father, for well thou knowest that did the Black One journey but one day towards the rising sun without a full impi at his back, he would be eaten up by the Arab tribes, who dwell outside this land of witchcraft, and who hate him even as we do. More, my father, I know that the men lied when they spoke, for only yester morn did I see two of the snow-white message birds arrive, and they came from the mountains of the distant southern lands.“Hearken to my words, oh, chiefs! and if ye follow them, doubt not that all shall yet go well.“To-morrow night, when the moon rises, will the Black One rest beneath the cool shadow of yon distant peak; let us be there, oh! chiefs, and he shall sleep the sleep that never wakes in life.“Thus shall the matter go—thou knowest well the place, my father—the evil ones will come in from the southern lands—the Lands of Lakes and Rivers—and will set their kraal beneath the great white mountain, and towards the setting sun, at the spot in the deep hollow where there ever flows a spring of clear, sweet water, where is a mighty wall of rock on this side and on that side, and a hill hard to be climbed towards the further north; and it shall be, my father, that when the evil ones, filled with food and worn with the toil of the day, have entered into the trap, and have lain them down to rest, that we will turn from its course the flowing waters of the great river which runs on the path of the rising sun, and will fill the place with weeping, and with the bodies of dead men.“With ten of these low black fellows (Zanzibaris) will I turn the river, and with those that remain, and with the spears and guns, shalt thou, my father, safely keep the northern hill, and it shall be that ere the arrows of the dawn glance upon the snows of the great white mountain, the evil ones shall be stamped flat and eaten up, and the foul carcase of the Black Master of Evil himself, shall be but food for the vultures and the wolves. I have spoken.”The Zulu’s idea was, unquestionably, a very fine one, and promised to rid our friends of their arch-enemy, together with a hundred of the very vilest of his following at one fell swoop, and it was therefore determined that the plan should be adopted in its entirety, their own party thus taking the initiative.If the scheme failed, the little band would be really no worse off than they were at the present time, whilst if it succeeded—and with the cunning of the Zulu at its back, it certainly had every chance of success—the campaign would be capitally inaugurated by drawing the lion’s teeth at the very first attempt. Zero, it was conceded upon all sides, was the one man to be feared, and could they but dispose of him out of hand, the Mormon-cum-Slaver fraternity would be like a ship without a helm, and would very soon find itself in unpleasantly rough water.Our friends calculated that the slavers, on discovering the near approach of the water, would first drive their black captives up the hill, and after Grenville’s party had allowed these to pass and save themselves, his men would keep the road against the slavers and fiercely contest the narrow passage hand to hand, with axe and spear, rifle and pistol. It would be a stubborn fight; that was certain, for, granting that the slavers had expended a few men on their distant foray, they would still be in the proportion of two to one; and if they once penetrated the ranks of our friends, it would be all up with the little band, as they would instantly be driven back by sheer weight of numbers, into a ready-made watery grave of their own providing.At dawn, therefore, the entire party breakfasted hastily, and, after leaving in the outer cave a few articles likely to be of service to the friendly old hermit, made their way quickly down the hill, and striking well into the fog-banks at its foot, steered a straight course for the distant mountains; Grenville and the other rescued white men, who were extremely feeble, being carried by the Zanzibaris in hammocks, so as to husband, as far as possible, what little strength they possessed.The Zulu knew his ground thoroughly, and ere the mist had been completely sucked up by the sun, had got his followers some miles on their way, and travelling smoothly along the shallow bed of a small stream, whose overhanging banks provided a capital safeguard against prying eyes.Naught of interest occurred that day, and by keeping the men hard at it, so as to shorten the next day’s journey, a good forty miles was knocked off before the tired wayfarers lay down to snatch a brief spell of rest until the tardy appearance of the moon provided them with sufficient light to proceed by, when the little band again took the road and kept moving until the waning light put a welcome period to their labours, and sleeping a heavy, dreamless sleep until the sun once more awoke them to the weary toil and travel of another burning tropic day.A glorious sight now met the wondering eyes of our friends, for right before them and distant perhaps a score of miles across the veldt, rose the giant fabric of the wished-for mountain, now sharply defined in every detail of its vast and massive grandeur. Straight up into the very heavens themselves shot one glorious, glittering peak, whose perfect beauty was beyond all earthly praise: around its lofty summit the everlasting snows had grouped themselves like gleaming, flashing jewels in the radiant crown of this mighty cloud-clad monarch of the equator. Wreaths of filmy, fleecy mist drifted slowly here and there across his distorted shoulders, which were seamed in every direction with yawning fissures, whose awful blackness was rendered even more striking by contrast with the unmatched, glittering glory of this solitary inland peak, whilst the green and rolling veldt, sweeping away unbroken to the horizon on every hand, formed a fit setting for this lovely, lonely diadem of God’s own fashioning.Soon, however, the heat-clouds settled down upon the mountain, veiling from sight all but its lower vast proportions, upon whose rugged sides no vestige of vegetation could as yet be seen.With but a short rest at mid-day, our adventurers pressed on, in spite of the stifling heat, and reached the spring of which Amaxosa had spoken, about three o’clock in the afternoon, when the fighting brigade instantly threw themselves down to rest and sleep in the grateful shade cast by the giant walls of overhanging rock, which stretched grimly upwards on either hand, their barren wildness relieved only here and there by a few odd patches of trees and bush.Grenville himself kept guard, and Kenyon at once proceeded down the pass and climbed some way up the mountain side to keep a sharp look-out over the southern veldt, whilst Leigh and Amaxosa turned their faces towards the river, and closely scrutinised its banks for quite half a mile beyond the further exit of the pass ere they discovered a species of creek, or inlet, only two score yards from the edge of the track, and in every way eminently suited to their requirements. Leigh then returned to the spring, and promptly dispatched ten of the Zanzibaris, with their implements, to join the Zulu chief, and to lie hidden until they received his further orders.The scheme, artfully as it hod been planned, had one weak spot in it, which gave both Grenville and Kenyon much serious thought, and that anxiety was caused by the certain knowledge that Zero had with him his three magnificent bloodhounds, which, token in conjunction with their vile master—who was, perhaps, more of a brute than the noble animals themselves—composed the most formidable quartette in Equatoria. Grenville had already warned his friends not to waste their bullets on the dogs, but to leave the brutes to him, as should the slavers once get within range, he would not raise a hand against them until he had first settled with the canine element His great fear was, however, that the hounds would warn their masters of the presence of the little band the moment they struck the scent. The way through the pass being, however, mostly composed of rock, and a heavy gang of slaves going on in front, it was, of course, more than possible that the scent would be rendered too faint to attract anything but a mere passing whimper from the great dogs.When the party had had perhaps three hours’ rest, a shrill whistle was suddenly heard from Kenyon, and looking upwards Grenville saw him making the agreed danger signal.Half-an-hour later the American rejoined his friends, and reported that a vast mob of human beings had come within range of his field-glass during the last hour, and were now a score of miles away and heading direct for their own position in the pass. News was quickly sent round to Amaxosa, who, however, soon appeared and carried off the chief, who, next to himself, stood highest among his own men. Him he carefully inducted into the mysteries of the “Zulu irrigation scheme,” as Kenyon styled it, and then returned to the main body, where he considered “his father would need his arm”—the fact, of course, being, that the splendid fellow was simply spoiling for a good fight with his late tormentors.

As the question had now purely resolved into one of warfare, offensive or defensive, Amaxosa was called into council, in order that a definite and feasible plan of action might be formulated.

Leigh and Kenyon were disposed to stay just where they were, as the place seemed well-adapted for defence, had an ample supply of water, and was, at the same time, sufficiently close to Equatoria to be handy in the event of their party finding it desirable to sally out upon Zero’s position.

Grenville, however, was distrustful with regard to the cave itself, as he half-suspected that Muzi Zimba the hermit had a secret method of entering the Mormon Town without going all round by the forest; and if such a way existed, Zero would be quite certain to know of it, although his followers might be kept, in ignorance for a purpose; and, of course, it would never do for our friends to get themselves fixed between two fires.

The Zulu chief listened intently to all the argumentsproandcon, but never opened his mouth until Grenville, addressing him in the Zulu tongue, asked him to express his opinion upon the matter under notice.

“Can my father,” he said, “tell his son Amaxosa, whither the Black One (Zero) has journeyed?”

“Surely, my brother,” answered Grenville, “didst thou not hear when but yesterday we stood yonder tethered like oxen for the slaughter that he had compassed thrice three days’ travel towards the east, and that his bloodhounds could not return in time to gnaw the flesh from our broken bones?”

“Ay, Inkoos,” was the reply, “I heard the words, but yet believed them not. Hearken! my father, when the Black One went forth, he went at dead of night, and with him went the savage dogs and but one hundred men with guns. Think, then, my father, for well thou knowest that did the Black One journey but one day towards the rising sun without a full impi at his back, he would be eaten up by the Arab tribes, who dwell outside this land of witchcraft, and who hate him even as we do. More, my father, I know that the men lied when they spoke, for only yester morn did I see two of the snow-white message birds arrive, and they came from the mountains of the distant southern lands.

“Hearken to my words, oh, chiefs! and if ye follow them, doubt not that all shall yet go well.

“To-morrow night, when the moon rises, will the Black One rest beneath the cool shadow of yon distant peak; let us be there, oh! chiefs, and he shall sleep the sleep that never wakes in life.

“Thus shall the matter go—thou knowest well the place, my father—the evil ones will come in from the southern lands—the Lands of Lakes and Rivers—and will set their kraal beneath the great white mountain, and towards the setting sun, at the spot in the deep hollow where there ever flows a spring of clear, sweet water, where is a mighty wall of rock on this side and on that side, and a hill hard to be climbed towards the further north; and it shall be, my father, that when the evil ones, filled with food and worn with the toil of the day, have entered into the trap, and have lain them down to rest, that we will turn from its course the flowing waters of the great river which runs on the path of the rising sun, and will fill the place with weeping, and with the bodies of dead men.

“With ten of these low black fellows (Zanzibaris) will I turn the river, and with those that remain, and with the spears and guns, shalt thou, my father, safely keep the northern hill, and it shall be that ere the arrows of the dawn glance upon the snows of the great white mountain, the evil ones shall be stamped flat and eaten up, and the foul carcase of the Black Master of Evil himself, shall be but food for the vultures and the wolves. I have spoken.”

The Zulu’s idea was, unquestionably, a very fine one, and promised to rid our friends of their arch-enemy, together with a hundred of the very vilest of his following at one fell swoop, and it was therefore determined that the plan should be adopted in its entirety, their own party thus taking the initiative.

If the scheme failed, the little band would be really no worse off than they were at the present time, whilst if it succeeded—and with the cunning of the Zulu at its back, it certainly had every chance of success—the campaign would be capitally inaugurated by drawing the lion’s teeth at the very first attempt. Zero, it was conceded upon all sides, was the one man to be feared, and could they but dispose of him out of hand, the Mormon-cum-Slaver fraternity would be like a ship without a helm, and would very soon find itself in unpleasantly rough water.

Our friends calculated that the slavers, on discovering the near approach of the water, would first drive their black captives up the hill, and after Grenville’s party had allowed these to pass and save themselves, his men would keep the road against the slavers and fiercely contest the narrow passage hand to hand, with axe and spear, rifle and pistol. It would be a stubborn fight; that was certain, for, granting that the slavers had expended a few men on their distant foray, they would still be in the proportion of two to one; and if they once penetrated the ranks of our friends, it would be all up with the little band, as they would instantly be driven back by sheer weight of numbers, into a ready-made watery grave of their own providing.

At dawn, therefore, the entire party breakfasted hastily, and, after leaving in the outer cave a few articles likely to be of service to the friendly old hermit, made their way quickly down the hill, and striking well into the fog-banks at its foot, steered a straight course for the distant mountains; Grenville and the other rescued white men, who were extremely feeble, being carried by the Zanzibaris in hammocks, so as to husband, as far as possible, what little strength they possessed.

The Zulu knew his ground thoroughly, and ere the mist had been completely sucked up by the sun, had got his followers some miles on their way, and travelling smoothly along the shallow bed of a small stream, whose overhanging banks provided a capital safeguard against prying eyes.

Naught of interest occurred that day, and by keeping the men hard at it, so as to shorten the next day’s journey, a good forty miles was knocked off before the tired wayfarers lay down to snatch a brief spell of rest until the tardy appearance of the moon provided them with sufficient light to proceed by, when the little band again took the road and kept moving until the waning light put a welcome period to their labours, and sleeping a heavy, dreamless sleep until the sun once more awoke them to the weary toil and travel of another burning tropic day.

A glorious sight now met the wondering eyes of our friends, for right before them and distant perhaps a score of miles across the veldt, rose the giant fabric of the wished-for mountain, now sharply defined in every detail of its vast and massive grandeur. Straight up into the very heavens themselves shot one glorious, glittering peak, whose perfect beauty was beyond all earthly praise: around its lofty summit the everlasting snows had grouped themselves like gleaming, flashing jewels in the radiant crown of this mighty cloud-clad monarch of the equator. Wreaths of filmy, fleecy mist drifted slowly here and there across his distorted shoulders, which were seamed in every direction with yawning fissures, whose awful blackness was rendered even more striking by contrast with the unmatched, glittering glory of this solitary inland peak, whilst the green and rolling veldt, sweeping away unbroken to the horizon on every hand, formed a fit setting for this lovely, lonely diadem of God’s own fashioning.

Soon, however, the heat-clouds settled down upon the mountain, veiling from sight all but its lower vast proportions, upon whose rugged sides no vestige of vegetation could as yet be seen.

With but a short rest at mid-day, our adventurers pressed on, in spite of the stifling heat, and reached the spring of which Amaxosa had spoken, about three o’clock in the afternoon, when the fighting brigade instantly threw themselves down to rest and sleep in the grateful shade cast by the giant walls of overhanging rock, which stretched grimly upwards on either hand, their barren wildness relieved only here and there by a few odd patches of trees and bush.

Grenville himself kept guard, and Kenyon at once proceeded down the pass and climbed some way up the mountain side to keep a sharp look-out over the southern veldt, whilst Leigh and Amaxosa turned their faces towards the river, and closely scrutinised its banks for quite half a mile beyond the further exit of the pass ere they discovered a species of creek, or inlet, only two score yards from the edge of the track, and in every way eminently suited to their requirements. Leigh then returned to the spring, and promptly dispatched ten of the Zanzibaris, with their implements, to join the Zulu chief, and to lie hidden until they received his further orders.

The scheme, artfully as it hod been planned, had one weak spot in it, which gave both Grenville and Kenyon much serious thought, and that anxiety was caused by the certain knowledge that Zero had with him his three magnificent bloodhounds, which, token in conjunction with their vile master—who was, perhaps, more of a brute than the noble animals themselves—composed the most formidable quartette in Equatoria. Grenville had already warned his friends not to waste their bullets on the dogs, but to leave the brutes to him, as should the slavers once get within range, he would not raise a hand against them until he had first settled with the canine element His great fear was, however, that the hounds would warn their masters of the presence of the little band the moment they struck the scent. The way through the pass being, however, mostly composed of rock, and a heavy gang of slaves going on in front, it was, of course, more than possible that the scent would be rendered too faint to attract anything but a mere passing whimper from the great dogs.

When the party had had perhaps three hours’ rest, a shrill whistle was suddenly heard from Kenyon, and looking upwards Grenville saw him making the agreed danger signal.

Half-an-hour later the American rejoined his friends, and reported that a vast mob of human beings had come within range of his field-glass during the last hour, and were now a score of miles away and heading direct for their own position in the pass. News was quickly sent round to Amaxosa, who, however, soon appeared and carried off the chief, who, next to himself, stood highest among his own men. Him he carefully inducted into the mysteries of the “Zulu irrigation scheme,” as Kenyon styled it, and then returned to the main body, where he considered “his father would need his arm”—the fact, of course, being, that the splendid fellow was simply spoiling for a good fight with his late tormentors.

Chapter Ten.“No Quarter.”Hardly had our friends perfected the details of their scheme for surprising the slavers, than darkness rushed upon them like a tangible thing. All, however, were much too excited to sleep, and, as soon as the rising moon gave sufficient light, the whole party removed itself beyond the steep crest of the northern hill, and impatiently awaited developments, or, as the Zulus have it, “fought the fight of sit down.”It had been agreed amongst them, that the slavers were to have a clear hour allowed them from the time of entering the pass, to permit of their settling down quietly for the night, and this hour would of course, be employed to advantage by the men in charge of the “water department,” whilst the defenders of the hill had of necessity to take their cue from the movements of the enemy as occasion might arise.For once in a way, matters fell out even better than the most sanguine had dared to hope. The slavers trooped quietly in, the dogs failing to show the slightest sign of uneasiness, and as soon as the slaves had been watered at the spring, the wretched creatures, to the number of about three hundred, all carefully manacled, were mercilessly driven on towards Equatoria, guarded by half a score of heavily-armed and powerful-looking ruffians, whilst Zero and the rest of his following encamped for the night beside the spring, taking no precautions whatever against surprise, and obviously considering themselves perfectly safe in their own happy hunting-grounds, relying, no doubt, upon the dogs to give them timely notice of any hostile approach. Nothing could have been better than this arrangement; for had the miserable slaves been detained in the hollow of the pass, it would have caused our friends very considerable difficulty to separate the poor unoffending creatures, from their sworn vengeance upon Zero and his host of scoundrels, whereas now, every shot would have a definite and decided aim.After the dismal procession had filed out of sight, the time hung very heavily on the hands of the anxious watchers on the hill, and none seemed to feel it more keenly than did Leigh. He fidgeted first with his rifle, and then with his revolvers, until Grenville and Kenyon made sure that one or other of the weapons would explode, and prematurely unmask the whole affair, when matters would in all likelihood get uncomfortably warm for their little party.Leigh was possessed of but one desire, and that was to get sight of Zero, when none who watched his face as Grenville did, could doubt that there would be bloodshed.Slowly an hour dragged out its weary length. Below all was still as death, the slavers were fast asleep round their fire, and as a gentle zephyr was breezing in from the south, there was no scent to disturb the repose of the great dogs, who seemed to appreciate the warmth of the fire, equally with their tired masters.All at once the death-like silence was rent by a thundering explosion, which seemed to fairly shake the mighty fabric of the mountain, and to rend the very vault of heaven itself, whilst in the twinkling of an eye, every man amongst the slavers was on his feet, gun in hand, and gazing inquiringly at his nearest comrade.Hardly had the Titanic echoes ceased to answer one another amongst the mountain fastnesses, than a wild cry went up from the wretched men beside the spring, as they saw the angry river come foaming and dancing towards them—a frothing, bubbling sea of glancing foam—as it flew along down the narrow pass under the weird rays of the ivory moonlight.But a single look the slavers gave; then, turning as one man, the whole band rushed blindly for the hill, but scarcely had they commenced to climb, when the crown of the ascent seemed to fairly open before their astonished eyes in a glancing sheet of flame, as Grenville gave the word, and two score angry rifles poured their deadly contents into the surging mob of humanity but fifty yards below, whilst a chorus of shrieks and imprecations went up to heaven, and men rolled over in every direction, dead and dying, thus testifying to the fatal results of the discharge.The slavers paused aghast; but, with a wild, deep-throated bay, the noble hounds sprang forward, undaunted by the presence of the foe—useless bravery, for Grenville kept his word: the moonlight was good enough to shoot by, and three shots from his Winchester accounted for the three great dogs in much less time than it takes to tell.Meantime the water was rushing forward like a living thing, and the slavers, forced onwards by it, dashed up the hill in a positive frenzy of fear, paying no attention to their leader, who vainly shouted to them to keep their heads, as the water would take some time to rise the height of the steep ascent. On they came in spite of another blinding discharge, which absolutely singed their faces and thinned their ranks by quite one-half, and then, hand to hand, the combatants met with a mighty roar. Hither and thither swung the fight in all its ghastly details, the crash of the axes, and the rapid detonations of the revolver-pistols, almost drowning the war-cries of the Zulus as they wreaked their righteous vengeance upon their late tormentors. Soon, however, friend and foe were so closely blent together that even Grenville—who kept out of a scrimmage in which he was yet too weak to take his accustomed part—found it extremely difficult work to get in a single shot without danger to his own people.The Slaver-Chief was unquestionably a brave man, and in his fighting cry there was inspiration for his band; but what could he do when three such men as Leigh, Kenyon, and Amaxosa would, if they could help it, fight neither with small nor great but with himself only; whilst Grenville, meantime, watched, lynx-eyed, for a chance of putting a bullet through him?Four times did this determined trio charge the slavers, axe in hand, and Zero himself at last fell upon a heap of his companions, whose living bodies had lately been his only rampart against these vindictive and invincible foes.Upon the fall of the Slaver-Chief a mighty shout went up from the little band of friends, and the few remaining slavers immediately threw down their arms and begged for mercy. Mercy! Fools! What could they expect?A Zulu shows no mercy to a beaten foe, and if beaten himself he asks none. Moreover, the foe in this case richly deserved all he got, for he had been guilty of every species of senseless and abominable cruelty under heaven, and merited to the full a far more dreadfully retributive justice than the sudden and almost painless death which he received at the hands of his relentless executioners.So much for one side, now for the other. Four of the white men rescued from the Mormons by Leigh and Kenyon, were stone dead, as were three Zanzibaris, who had stayed on the spot in an unaccustomed and ill-fated excess of valour or curiosity. The remaining white man, a sturdy young Highlander, named Duncan Ewan, had received a nasty scalp wound, whilst five of the Zulus were lying about very severely cut up, though all would recover with careful treatment. Of the three champions, Amaxosa was the only one who had received any hurt, and that was superficial, a bullet having grazed and laid open one side of his face. Hastily our friends shook hands with one another—and with themselves, so to speak—and then Leigh and Amaxosa, supported by all the available Zulus, started off at speed upon the trail of the departed slave-gang, leaving Grenville and Kenyon (together with the frightened Zanzibaris, who were cautiously returning by twos and threes from the four winds of heaven, whither they had fled when the first shot was fired) to get the wounded into a place of safety; for the water was still rapidly rising, and once over the crest of the hill, it would simply sweep the whole plain towards the north, unless something could be done to stop its wild career. Quickly getting the wounded men out of the pass, and some little way up the mountain side, Grenville and Kenyon next made a careful examination of the old course, of the river beyond the pass, and found that if they could blow up one mighty piece of rock, the river would immediately descend through the medium of a waterfall into its own original bed. The pair, accordingly, returned to the scene of the fight in order to collect all the gunpowder belonging to the deceased slavers; but hardly had they reached the spot than Kenyon, to Grenville’s utter astonishment, let out a bitter curse. “Fooled,” he cried, “as I’m a living sinner—fooled again by that cursed fox!” and turning quickly, as a mocking laugh grated upon their ears, Zero was seen by the pair standing upon a rock at the northern outlet of the pass, perhaps a hundred yards away, and taking aim at them with his rifle. Grenville’s Winchester went up like a flash, and the two reports blended into one. The slaver’s bullet whistled harmlessly past their ears, and at the same instant he was seen to drop his gun, and clap his hand upon his left shoulder, and then, shaking his fist angrily at Grenville, he hurled a vile curse at the two friends, and, springing down from the rock, was at once lost to view amidst the gloomy shadows of the mountain.Whilst Grenville collected the powder, Kenyon promptly set out in pursuit of the slaver, but could find no trace of his whereabouts. The fellow’s claws were, however, cut for the nonce, as there was blood upon the rock where he had been standing, and his rifle was still lying there, the hammer having been cut clean away by Grenville’s bullet. So that wounded, unarmed, and unsupported, it was a shrewd count that they would easily get him when daylight came, and get him they must, for he clearly was a dangerous, as well as a very slippery, villain.Our friends soon succeeded in blowing up the rock, and preparing a new outlet for the water, and this was not accomplished any too soon, as by the time they had collected the arms, which were everywhere strewed about the confined field of battle, the water was already lapping gently against the upper edges of the steep ascent, and in another ten minutes it was racing down the track, and shooting clear over the beetling wall of rock, thus returning to its own natural bed in the shape of a magnificent waterfall, whose enormous volume, as it fell, waked a mighty echo, which would henceforward cause a perpetual and thundering murmur amongst the rocky glens of the mountains, as if nature were herself complaining of this irremediable mischief, wrought by the puny hand of careless and unthinking man.Hardly had Grenville and Kenyon regained the mountain side, than the report of firearms was heard away across the veldt, and the quick flashes of Leigh’s repeating-rifle could be distinctly seen. In a few short minutes all was again as quiet as death, and the twain looked anxiously at one another, yearning to know with whom the victory rested, when all at once, through the still night air, and right across the rolling veldt was wafted the wild war-cry of the children of the Undi, proclaiming the successful accomplishment of another act of retribution, and the absolutely triumphant success of Amaxosa’s daring scheme for the destruction of the foe—a success which was marred only by the single detail of the temporary escape from their vengeance, of the Slaver-Chief himself.Grenville and Kenyon next lighted a large fire to apprise the detachment out upon the veldt, of the exact position of the party upon the mountain side; and this having been done, Kenyon, who never travelled without a complete surgeon’s “kit,” proceeded to attend to the injuries of the wounded men, and soon had the poor fellows as comfortable as circumstances permitted.Shortly after this, the Zulu, Umbulanzi, in charge of the “water department,” and to whom belonged no small share of the credit of this successful affair, made his appearance, accompanied by all but two of the Zanzibaris, who, under his direction, had acted in the capacity of sappers.It seemed that Amaxosa had fortunately foreseen the possibility of this detachment hitting upon a bed of rock, and thus having their work stopped, and the whole scheme completely ruined, and he had, therefore, supplied hisconfrèrewith a 56 pound keg of powder out of Leigh’s ample stores, and finding that a great slab of broken ironstone rock was spoiling his little game, this Zulu had coolly slappedthe whole kegunder the edge of this obstruction, and blown the entire affair sky-high, and along with it two of the Zanzibaris, whose unfortunate curiosity had prevailed over their accustomed discretion.“Haow Inkoos,” he said, speaking rapidly to Grenville in the Zulu tongue, “it was indeed a very great sight, and never will Umbulanzi see the like again. The rock shot up to the heavens on high, and with it went the low black fellows. The great stone came down again, my father; but, though I waited long for the low fellows, they came not, and as the cowards must have run away for good, Umbulanzi did not stay.”The moon was waning fast, but the stars still held the curtains of night over the wide-stretched whispering veldt, when the victorious party of Amaxosa, accompanied by the slave-gang, was heard approaching from the north, and upon their arrival it was found that the little band had not suffered further in any way, having satisfactorily “rushed” the remaining slavers, and disposed of them every one.The anger of Leigh and Amaxosa, however, knew no bounds when the cunning escape of the arch-enemy was made known to them, and both bitterly repented that they had not made sure of the fox by knocking him on the head, and registered a solemn vow to commit no further mistakes of the kind, should Zero fall into their hands again. Clearly, however, nothing could be done until dawn of day, and it was decided, therefore, to let the rescued slaves sleep in their irons, and to wait for daylight, in order that their captors might gain some little insight into the character of their new charges. So, having set a watch of Zanzibaris, overlooked by Grenville himself, the tired army laid itself down, and was soon fast asleep, whilst the rescued slaves, who had been told the good news that they would be liberated in the morning, chattered to one another throughout the livelong night, like a troop of monkeys in the forest. With the first gleam of daylight, Leigh and Amaxosa were afoot, and without even staying to dispatch a mouthful of food, threw themselves upon the bloodstained trail of the Slaver-Chief, and were almost instantly lost to sight amongst the dense fog-banks which overhung the surrounding veldt in every direction.

Hardly had our friends perfected the details of their scheme for surprising the slavers, than darkness rushed upon them like a tangible thing. All, however, were much too excited to sleep, and, as soon as the rising moon gave sufficient light, the whole party removed itself beyond the steep crest of the northern hill, and impatiently awaited developments, or, as the Zulus have it, “fought the fight of sit down.”

It had been agreed amongst them, that the slavers were to have a clear hour allowed them from the time of entering the pass, to permit of their settling down quietly for the night, and this hour would of course, be employed to advantage by the men in charge of the “water department,” whilst the defenders of the hill had of necessity to take their cue from the movements of the enemy as occasion might arise.

For once in a way, matters fell out even better than the most sanguine had dared to hope. The slavers trooped quietly in, the dogs failing to show the slightest sign of uneasiness, and as soon as the slaves had been watered at the spring, the wretched creatures, to the number of about three hundred, all carefully manacled, were mercilessly driven on towards Equatoria, guarded by half a score of heavily-armed and powerful-looking ruffians, whilst Zero and the rest of his following encamped for the night beside the spring, taking no precautions whatever against surprise, and obviously considering themselves perfectly safe in their own happy hunting-grounds, relying, no doubt, upon the dogs to give them timely notice of any hostile approach. Nothing could have been better than this arrangement; for had the miserable slaves been detained in the hollow of the pass, it would have caused our friends very considerable difficulty to separate the poor unoffending creatures, from their sworn vengeance upon Zero and his host of scoundrels, whereas now, every shot would have a definite and decided aim.

After the dismal procession had filed out of sight, the time hung very heavily on the hands of the anxious watchers on the hill, and none seemed to feel it more keenly than did Leigh. He fidgeted first with his rifle, and then with his revolvers, until Grenville and Kenyon made sure that one or other of the weapons would explode, and prematurely unmask the whole affair, when matters would in all likelihood get uncomfortably warm for their little party.

Leigh was possessed of but one desire, and that was to get sight of Zero, when none who watched his face as Grenville did, could doubt that there would be bloodshed.

Slowly an hour dragged out its weary length. Below all was still as death, the slavers were fast asleep round their fire, and as a gentle zephyr was breezing in from the south, there was no scent to disturb the repose of the great dogs, who seemed to appreciate the warmth of the fire, equally with their tired masters.

All at once the death-like silence was rent by a thundering explosion, which seemed to fairly shake the mighty fabric of the mountain, and to rend the very vault of heaven itself, whilst in the twinkling of an eye, every man amongst the slavers was on his feet, gun in hand, and gazing inquiringly at his nearest comrade.

Hardly had the Titanic echoes ceased to answer one another amongst the mountain fastnesses, than a wild cry went up from the wretched men beside the spring, as they saw the angry river come foaming and dancing towards them—a frothing, bubbling sea of glancing foam—as it flew along down the narrow pass under the weird rays of the ivory moonlight.

But a single look the slavers gave; then, turning as one man, the whole band rushed blindly for the hill, but scarcely had they commenced to climb, when the crown of the ascent seemed to fairly open before their astonished eyes in a glancing sheet of flame, as Grenville gave the word, and two score angry rifles poured their deadly contents into the surging mob of humanity but fifty yards below, whilst a chorus of shrieks and imprecations went up to heaven, and men rolled over in every direction, dead and dying, thus testifying to the fatal results of the discharge.

The slavers paused aghast; but, with a wild, deep-throated bay, the noble hounds sprang forward, undaunted by the presence of the foe—useless bravery, for Grenville kept his word: the moonlight was good enough to shoot by, and three shots from his Winchester accounted for the three great dogs in much less time than it takes to tell.

Meantime the water was rushing forward like a living thing, and the slavers, forced onwards by it, dashed up the hill in a positive frenzy of fear, paying no attention to their leader, who vainly shouted to them to keep their heads, as the water would take some time to rise the height of the steep ascent. On they came in spite of another blinding discharge, which absolutely singed their faces and thinned their ranks by quite one-half, and then, hand to hand, the combatants met with a mighty roar. Hither and thither swung the fight in all its ghastly details, the crash of the axes, and the rapid detonations of the revolver-pistols, almost drowning the war-cries of the Zulus as they wreaked their righteous vengeance upon their late tormentors. Soon, however, friend and foe were so closely blent together that even Grenville—who kept out of a scrimmage in which he was yet too weak to take his accustomed part—found it extremely difficult work to get in a single shot without danger to his own people.

The Slaver-Chief was unquestionably a brave man, and in his fighting cry there was inspiration for his band; but what could he do when three such men as Leigh, Kenyon, and Amaxosa would, if they could help it, fight neither with small nor great but with himself only; whilst Grenville, meantime, watched, lynx-eyed, for a chance of putting a bullet through him?

Four times did this determined trio charge the slavers, axe in hand, and Zero himself at last fell upon a heap of his companions, whose living bodies had lately been his only rampart against these vindictive and invincible foes.

Upon the fall of the Slaver-Chief a mighty shout went up from the little band of friends, and the few remaining slavers immediately threw down their arms and begged for mercy. Mercy! Fools! What could they expect?A Zulu shows no mercy to a beaten foe, and if beaten himself he asks none. Moreover, the foe in this case richly deserved all he got, for he had been guilty of every species of senseless and abominable cruelty under heaven, and merited to the full a far more dreadfully retributive justice than the sudden and almost painless death which he received at the hands of his relentless executioners.

So much for one side, now for the other. Four of the white men rescued from the Mormons by Leigh and Kenyon, were stone dead, as were three Zanzibaris, who had stayed on the spot in an unaccustomed and ill-fated excess of valour or curiosity. The remaining white man, a sturdy young Highlander, named Duncan Ewan, had received a nasty scalp wound, whilst five of the Zulus were lying about very severely cut up, though all would recover with careful treatment. Of the three champions, Amaxosa was the only one who had received any hurt, and that was superficial, a bullet having grazed and laid open one side of his face. Hastily our friends shook hands with one another—and with themselves, so to speak—and then Leigh and Amaxosa, supported by all the available Zulus, started off at speed upon the trail of the departed slave-gang, leaving Grenville and Kenyon (together with the frightened Zanzibaris, who were cautiously returning by twos and threes from the four winds of heaven, whither they had fled when the first shot was fired) to get the wounded into a place of safety; for the water was still rapidly rising, and once over the crest of the hill, it would simply sweep the whole plain towards the north, unless something could be done to stop its wild career. Quickly getting the wounded men out of the pass, and some little way up the mountain side, Grenville and Kenyon next made a careful examination of the old course, of the river beyond the pass, and found that if they could blow up one mighty piece of rock, the river would immediately descend through the medium of a waterfall into its own original bed. The pair, accordingly, returned to the scene of the fight in order to collect all the gunpowder belonging to the deceased slavers; but hardly had they reached the spot than Kenyon, to Grenville’s utter astonishment, let out a bitter curse. “Fooled,” he cried, “as I’m a living sinner—fooled again by that cursed fox!” and turning quickly, as a mocking laugh grated upon their ears, Zero was seen by the pair standing upon a rock at the northern outlet of the pass, perhaps a hundred yards away, and taking aim at them with his rifle. Grenville’s Winchester went up like a flash, and the two reports blended into one. The slaver’s bullet whistled harmlessly past their ears, and at the same instant he was seen to drop his gun, and clap his hand upon his left shoulder, and then, shaking his fist angrily at Grenville, he hurled a vile curse at the two friends, and, springing down from the rock, was at once lost to view amidst the gloomy shadows of the mountain.

Whilst Grenville collected the powder, Kenyon promptly set out in pursuit of the slaver, but could find no trace of his whereabouts. The fellow’s claws were, however, cut for the nonce, as there was blood upon the rock where he had been standing, and his rifle was still lying there, the hammer having been cut clean away by Grenville’s bullet. So that wounded, unarmed, and unsupported, it was a shrewd count that they would easily get him when daylight came, and get him they must, for he clearly was a dangerous, as well as a very slippery, villain.

Our friends soon succeeded in blowing up the rock, and preparing a new outlet for the water, and this was not accomplished any too soon, as by the time they had collected the arms, which were everywhere strewed about the confined field of battle, the water was already lapping gently against the upper edges of the steep ascent, and in another ten minutes it was racing down the track, and shooting clear over the beetling wall of rock, thus returning to its own natural bed in the shape of a magnificent waterfall, whose enormous volume, as it fell, waked a mighty echo, which would henceforward cause a perpetual and thundering murmur amongst the rocky glens of the mountains, as if nature were herself complaining of this irremediable mischief, wrought by the puny hand of careless and unthinking man.

Hardly had Grenville and Kenyon regained the mountain side, than the report of firearms was heard away across the veldt, and the quick flashes of Leigh’s repeating-rifle could be distinctly seen. In a few short minutes all was again as quiet as death, and the twain looked anxiously at one another, yearning to know with whom the victory rested, when all at once, through the still night air, and right across the rolling veldt was wafted the wild war-cry of the children of the Undi, proclaiming the successful accomplishment of another act of retribution, and the absolutely triumphant success of Amaxosa’s daring scheme for the destruction of the foe—a success which was marred only by the single detail of the temporary escape from their vengeance, of the Slaver-Chief himself.

Grenville and Kenyon next lighted a large fire to apprise the detachment out upon the veldt, of the exact position of the party upon the mountain side; and this having been done, Kenyon, who never travelled without a complete surgeon’s “kit,” proceeded to attend to the injuries of the wounded men, and soon had the poor fellows as comfortable as circumstances permitted.

Shortly after this, the Zulu, Umbulanzi, in charge of the “water department,” and to whom belonged no small share of the credit of this successful affair, made his appearance, accompanied by all but two of the Zanzibaris, who, under his direction, had acted in the capacity of sappers.

It seemed that Amaxosa had fortunately foreseen the possibility of this detachment hitting upon a bed of rock, and thus having their work stopped, and the whole scheme completely ruined, and he had, therefore, supplied hisconfrèrewith a 56 pound keg of powder out of Leigh’s ample stores, and finding that a great slab of broken ironstone rock was spoiling his little game, this Zulu had coolly slappedthe whole kegunder the edge of this obstruction, and blown the entire affair sky-high, and along with it two of the Zanzibaris, whose unfortunate curiosity had prevailed over their accustomed discretion.

“Haow Inkoos,” he said, speaking rapidly to Grenville in the Zulu tongue, “it was indeed a very great sight, and never will Umbulanzi see the like again. The rock shot up to the heavens on high, and with it went the low black fellows. The great stone came down again, my father; but, though I waited long for the low fellows, they came not, and as the cowards must have run away for good, Umbulanzi did not stay.”

The moon was waning fast, but the stars still held the curtains of night over the wide-stretched whispering veldt, when the victorious party of Amaxosa, accompanied by the slave-gang, was heard approaching from the north, and upon their arrival it was found that the little band had not suffered further in any way, having satisfactorily “rushed” the remaining slavers, and disposed of them every one.

The anger of Leigh and Amaxosa, however, knew no bounds when the cunning escape of the arch-enemy was made known to them, and both bitterly repented that they had not made sure of the fox by knocking him on the head, and registered a solemn vow to commit no further mistakes of the kind, should Zero fall into their hands again. Clearly, however, nothing could be done until dawn of day, and it was decided, therefore, to let the rescued slaves sleep in their irons, and to wait for daylight, in order that their captors might gain some little insight into the character of their new charges. So, having set a watch of Zanzibaris, overlooked by Grenville himself, the tired army laid itself down, and was soon fast asleep, whilst the rescued slaves, who had been told the good news that they would be liberated in the morning, chattered to one another throughout the livelong night, like a troop of monkeys in the forest. With the first gleam of daylight, Leigh and Amaxosa were afoot, and without even staying to dispatch a mouthful of food, threw themselves upon the bloodstained trail of the Slaver-Chief, and were almost instantly lost to sight amongst the dense fog-banks which overhung the surrounding veldt in every direction.

Chapter Eleven.“The People of the Stick.”First thing in the morning the slaves were unshackled, and, after all had breakfasted, they were interviewed through the medium of one of the native “guides,” and our friends found to their horror that Zero and his band of fiends had fallen upon this people, in the night, and after picking out 300 of the finest among the men, had effectually stamped out the remainder of the tribe, both root and branch, byfastening them all, young men and maidens, old men and children, in their huts, and then setting fire to the village, lining the palisades with their rifles meantime, lest any should break out and escape, to bring down upon the murderers swift and unsparing vengeance at the hands of a great and warlike native people, who lived near at hand, and who were closely related to the stricken tribe.They seemed an intelligent and brave people, and would no doubt have given a good account of themselves if Zero had not taken them utterly unawares in their huts by night; and the men, who were as a rule fine, athletic-looking fellows, declared that they would follow the white men to the death, if they would but lead their party on and entirely eat up these slavers, whom they denounced as monsters of cruelty—one man stating that the great bloodhounds had been deliberately fed by Zero himselfwith the flesh of several baby boys, who had been roasted alive, and he added that, if the white men would not go with them, his own people would carry on the war, even if they had to fight with empty hands.This was so far good, but our friends were utterly at their wits’ end regarding arms for their new allies, who clearly did not understand the use of guns, whilst the few spears and axes saved from the slavers deceased in the fight of the previous day, would not equip one-fourth of their number.On being asked, however, what weapons they would prefer to use, the men replied proudly that they were called “Atagbondo” or “the People of the Stick,” in consequence of their habit of fighting only with long-handled clubs, which they could cut for themselves as soon as forest land, similar to their own, was reached by the party.These clubs, it appeared, formed their sole weapon of offence, but they also used—as our friends found at a later date—an instrument of a most peculiar nature, and of which their white leaders could not at first comprehend the utility.The instrument referred to, was a neatly-fashioned piece of extremely hard wood, from a yard to a yard and a half in length, thick in the centre, where it contained a cavity to protect the hand, and tapering to both of its slender-looking extremities. At its widest part it was but some few inches broad, was fitted with a thong in which to slip the hand, and generally gave one the idea of a modified quarter-staff with an elongated bulb in the middle. The instrument was called a “quayre;” and when this people went into battle the warriors tapped the quayre against the shaft of the club and produced a rattling volume of sound, which could be heard a mile away, and was supposed to strike terror into the heart of the foe; whilst the quayre itself, which they handled in a most expert fashion, was used not only to ward off blows struck at the persons of the men with native axes, clubs, or similar weapons, but even in parrying spear-thrusts—a difficult operation, which they performed, however, with no little dexterity, whilst the quayre was at the same time less than one-third of the weight of a very ordinary fighting shield.On being informed that the white men were about to hold a council of war, and would like them to be represented, the chief of the Atagbondo stepped forward. Probably forty years of age, this man was a magnificent specimen of his race, who are all very much above the average height of Englishmen. He stood, probably, six feet two inches, but whilst he was not quite so tall as Amaxosa he possessed a more heavily built frame, being broader and deeper in the chest, and more massive in his appearance generally. Taken all through, he was, perhaps, the more powerful of the two men, but what the Zulu lacked in point of muscle was more than compensated for by the symmetry of his build, and his consequently superior activity; besides, this was relatively speaking, a man of peace, whilst the fierce Zulu was a man of war from his youth up, trained in every art and artifice, and inured to hardships and dangers by the experiences of many a well-fought field.The Chieftain of the Stick had an intensely “Negro” face, but without its ordinary stolidity, and, in common with his warriors, had his head shaved with the exception of a sort of central tuft, which somewhat resembled the “scalp lock” of the North American Indians, and through this tuft was thrust, in the case of every man, a miniature quayre, beautifully carved in ivory, standing, in point of fact, for the “totem” of his tribe, and proudly indicating the race from which he sprang.The chief—whose name, by the way, was “Barad,” or “The Hailstorm”—in a few well-chosen words, thanked the white men for releasing himself and his people, and then declared his intention of putting his party entirely into the hands of our friends, until vengeance had been taken upon the wicked men “who dwelt on the frontier of the far north, and amongst the mountains of Muzi Zimba the Ancient.” Our friends were more than surprised to find that their new allies both knew and reverenced the friendly hermit who overlooked Zero’s location, but found that beyond sending the old man a yearly “hongo,” or tribute, they knew nothing of him, but regarded him as a “very big fetish.”Amaxosa and Leigh now returning empty-handed and disgusted from their search after Zero, a council was called to receive their report. This was as short as it was unsatisfactory. The slaver had been unquestionably wounded by Grenville’s bullet, but it was, unfortunately, one of those wounds which act upon a flying foe as they do upon a running deer, and simply make him leap the faster.The pair had followed the track of the fugitive for close upon ten miles, beyond which it was useless to go, as they now knew positively from the “sign” that Zero had unearthed a canoe from its hiding-place amongst some rocks near the river, and had gone off down stream, and was, therefore, completely out of reach for the time being.Smarting with fury at the crushing defeat he had sustained, and maddened by the loss of both friends and plunder, the party might safely reckon upon the slaver delivering a crushing attack upon their position at no distant date, and it only now became a question as to whether they were sufficiently strong to go out and meet him in the open, or had better choose out a likely place on the mountain side, and make it good, until the loss on the side of the foe provided them with a chance of wiping him out “one time,” as the natives say, with a well-delivered sortie.True, the little band had now the not-to-be-despised support of three hundred able-bodied men, all thirsting for vengeance upon the common foe; but then, these men were entirely unarmed, whilst Zero, besides mustering close upon a thousand of his own rogues, well supplied with guns, would in all probability be supported by the native King already referred to, backed by several thousands of his followers, all armed with bow and spear, in the use of which they were said to be both bold and skilful.Ultimately, therefore, our friends decided to stay where they were, or, rather, to select a strong position on the mountain capable of a sustained defence, and in the interval which they might calculate upon prior to an attack, they determined to employ themselves in an endeavour to arm, after their own peculiar fashion, the warlike People of the Stick, and to induct the most intelligent amongst them into the mysteries of the rifle. This last would necessitate some little expenditure in the way of ammunition; but, as the party had abundance of powder taken from the vanquished slavers, they were fortunately in a position to afford this outlay.Towards evening, the indefatigable Amaxosa, who had gone out on a tour of inspection, returned with an exceptionally favourable report, and the first thing on the morrow the whole band removed to the rocky fastness selected for their occupation by the keen-eyed Zulu chief, and all hands were at once set to work to excavate, to build earthworks, and in many other ways to amplify the already considerable natural defences of the place, whilst the Atagbondo flayed every bush and tree within a scoro of miles, to furnish themselves with offensive clubs and defensive quayres.

First thing in the morning the slaves were unshackled, and, after all had breakfasted, they were interviewed through the medium of one of the native “guides,” and our friends found to their horror that Zero and his band of fiends had fallen upon this people, in the night, and after picking out 300 of the finest among the men, had effectually stamped out the remainder of the tribe, both root and branch, byfastening them all, young men and maidens, old men and children, in their huts, and then setting fire to the village, lining the palisades with their rifles meantime, lest any should break out and escape, to bring down upon the murderers swift and unsparing vengeance at the hands of a great and warlike native people, who lived near at hand, and who were closely related to the stricken tribe.

They seemed an intelligent and brave people, and would no doubt have given a good account of themselves if Zero had not taken them utterly unawares in their huts by night; and the men, who were as a rule fine, athletic-looking fellows, declared that they would follow the white men to the death, if they would but lead their party on and entirely eat up these slavers, whom they denounced as monsters of cruelty—one man stating that the great bloodhounds had been deliberately fed by Zero himselfwith the flesh of several baby boys, who had been roasted alive, and he added that, if the white men would not go with them, his own people would carry on the war, even if they had to fight with empty hands.

This was so far good, but our friends were utterly at their wits’ end regarding arms for their new allies, who clearly did not understand the use of guns, whilst the few spears and axes saved from the slavers deceased in the fight of the previous day, would not equip one-fourth of their number.

On being asked, however, what weapons they would prefer to use, the men replied proudly that they were called “Atagbondo” or “the People of the Stick,” in consequence of their habit of fighting only with long-handled clubs, which they could cut for themselves as soon as forest land, similar to their own, was reached by the party.

These clubs, it appeared, formed their sole weapon of offence, but they also used—as our friends found at a later date—an instrument of a most peculiar nature, and of which their white leaders could not at first comprehend the utility.

The instrument referred to, was a neatly-fashioned piece of extremely hard wood, from a yard to a yard and a half in length, thick in the centre, where it contained a cavity to protect the hand, and tapering to both of its slender-looking extremities. At its widest part it was but some few inches broad, was fitted with a thong in which to slip the hand, and generally gave one the idea of a modified quarter-staff with an elongated bulb in the middle. The instrument was called a “quayre;” and when this people went into battle the warriors tapped the quayre against the shaft of the club and produced a rattling volume of sound, which could be heard a mile away, and was supposed to strike terror into the heart of the foe; whilst the quayre itself, which they handled in a most expert fashion, was used not only to ward off blows struck at the persons of the men with native axes, clubs, or similar weapons, but even in parrying spear-thrusts—a difficult operation, which they performed, however, with no little dexterity, whilst the quayre was at the same time less than one-third of the weight of a very ordinary fighting shield.

On being informed that the white men were about to hold a council of war, and would like them to be represented, the chief of the Atagbondo stepped forward. Probably forty years of age, this man was a magnificent specimen of his race, who are all very much above the average height of Englishmen. He stood, probably, six feet two inches, but whilst he was not quite so tall as Amaxosa he possessed a more heavily built frame, being broader and deeper in the chest, and more massive in his appearance generally. Taken all through, he was, perhaps, the more powerful of the two men, but what the Zulu lacked in point of muscle was more than compensated for by the symmetry of his build, and his consequently superior activity; besides, this was relatively speaking, a man of peace, whilst the fierce Zulu was a man of war from his youth up, trained in every art and artifice, and inured to hardships and dangers by the experiences of many a well-fought field.

The Chieftain of the Stick had an intensely “Negro” face, but without its ordinary stolidity, and, in common with his warriors, had his head shaved with the exception of a sort of central tuft, which somewhat resembled the “scalp lock” of the North American Indians, and through this tuft was thrust, in the case of every man, a miniature quayre, beautifully carved in ivory, standing, in point of fact, for the “totem” of his tribe, and proudly indicating the race from which he sprang.

The chief—whose name, by the way, was “Barad,” or “The Hailstorm”—in a few well-chosen words, thanked the white men for releasing himself and his people, and then declared his intention of putting his party entirely into the hands of our friends, until vengeance had been taken upon the wicked men “who dwelt on the frontier of the far north, and amongst the mountains of Muzi Zimba the Ancient.” Our friends were more than surprised to find that their new allies both knew and reverenced the friendly hermit who overlooked Zero’s location, but found that beyond sending the old man a yearly “hongo,” or tribute, they knew nothing of him, but regarded him as a “very big fetish.”

Amaxosa and Leigh now returning empty-handed and disgusted from their search after Zero, a council was called to receive their report. This was as short as it was unsatisfactory. The slaver had been unquestionably wounded by Grenville’s bullet, but it was, unfortunately, one of those wounds which act upon a flying foe as they do upon a running deer, and simply make him leap the faster.

The pair had followed the track of the fugitive for close upon ten miles, beyond which it was useless to go, as they now knew positively from the “sign” that Zero had unearthed a canoe from its hiding-place amongst some rocks near the river, and had gone off down stream, and was, therefore, completely out of reach for the time being.

Smarting with fury at the crushing defeat he had sustained, and maddened by the loss of both friends and plunder, the party might safely reckon upon the slaver delivering a crushing attack upon their position at no distant date, and it only now became a question as to whether they were sufficiently strong to go out and meet him in the open, or had better choose out a likely place on the mountain side, and make it good, until the loss on the side of the foe provided them with a chance of wiping him out “one time,” as the natives say, with a well-delivered sortie.

True, the little band had now the not-to-be-despised support of three hundred able-bodied men, all thirsting for vengeance upon the common foe; but then, these men were entirely unarmed, whilst Zero, besides mustering close upon a thousand of his own rogues, well supplied with guns, would in all probability be supported by the native King already referred to, backed by several thousands of his followers, all armed with bow and spear, in the use of which they were said to be both bold and skilful.

Ultimately, therefore, our friends decided to stay where they were, or, rather, to select a strong position on the mountain capable of a sustained defence, and in the interval which they might calculate upon prior to an attack, they determined to employ themselves in an endeavour to arm, after their own peculiar fashion, the warlike People of the Stick, and to induct the most intelligent amongst them into the mysteries of the rifle. This last would necessitate some little expenditure in the way of ammunition; but, as the party had abundance of powder taken from the vanquished slavers, they were fortunately in a position to afford this outlay.

Towards evening, the indefatigable Amaxosa, who had gone out on a tour of inspection, returned with an exceptionally favourable report, and the first thing on the morrow the whole band removed to the rocky fastness selected for their occupation by the keen-eyed Zulu chief, and all hands were at once set to work to excavate, to build earthworks, and in many other ways to amplify the already considerable natural defences of the place, whilst the Atagbondo flayed every bush and tree within a scoro of miles, to furnish themselves with offensive clubs and defensive quayres.

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