Chapter Five.The Secret of the Pass.The secret of the place, as revealed by the tell-tale photograph, existed simply in the perfect natural “blind” provided by the presence of the roadthroughthe pass, whilst the slaver’s secret way was defined on the picture by a narrow wavy line, which absolutely wormed its way along the apparently unbroken face of the precipitous cliff itself, this way being primarily gained by climbing over the large, loose boulders which were freely strewed about just inside the entrance to the kloof. Gradually rising, and painfully zig-zagging up the giant wall of the rock, the narrow pathway could be clearly traced until it pierced the dark patch of brushwood which thickly crowned the summits of the towering cliffs, and was thenceforth lost to view. Deferring to Leigh’s anxiety regarding his cousin, the pair left the camp as soon as the moon rose that night, and found, to their surprise, that they could easily climb the slaver’s rocky road, and that what looked like a mere pathway for a goat, was in reality a well-worn track of a uniform width of from two and a half to three feet, and this being positively hollowed out to the depth of nearly a yard, made travelling perfectly safe, if not very fast. Human hands, at least in Central Africa, could never have accomplished such a stupendous task as this, and it was quickly evident to our friends that a small stream, running and zig-zagging down the cliff through the ages of bygone years, had gradually worn for itself a deep channel in the soft sandstone rock, and the lynx-eyed slaver had doubtless seen the value of the position, and on winning his way to the summit, in an abnormally dry season, had turned the stream into some other, and possibly more useful channel.Proceeding with the utmost caution, and expecting every instant to receive the contents of a rifle through his ribs, Kenyon led the way up this strange ascent and in about forty minutes’ time the pair had entered the dark and heavy patch of trees and brushwood which thickly crowned the cliffs, and which served, in some degree, to mask their true and enormous proportions. Arrived there, progress became of necessity slow, for it was only in places that the moonlight penetrated the interlaced tropic foliage, and threw ghostly patches of light and shade across the path of the adventurers, who drew nearer together as the painfully mysterious silence of the place impressed itself upon them.It is not an altogether pleasant experience to find yourself alone at night in an ordinary English coppice or plantation, a mile or two from anywhere; but transplant that plantation into equatorial Africa, and stand there with the knowledge that you are hundreds of miles from even the nearest native village, people the wood with bloodthirsty foes, lurking, keen-eyed, in every brake and covert, armed with the treacherous spear or the ready rifle, and you will understand why Leigh and Kenyon, ordinarily bold enough in the open, could only creep forward with their hearts in their mouths, and felt an access of fear when a great owl, disturbed by their cautious passage through the wood, rose from the trees above them, waking the hush of night with a weird, spirit-shaking hoot, and winged his way far off into the moonlight, which was everywhere flooding the outside world with its mellow glory.Soon, however, our friends again escaped from the lonely wooded path, and emerged into the brilliantly-lighted open, with a magnificent range of vision in every direction, except where the cliffs on the other side of the kloof shot upwards quite a hundred feet beyond the height of those now tenanted by themselves. This peculiarity, which the pair had not previously observed, of course effectually prevented them from seeing anything at all in the southern board, but in front and on each side of them the veldt could be seen sweeping clear away to the skyline, dotted here and there by clumps of bush and by moving herds of game. Behind them the mighty rocks frowned sternly down upon the adventurers, as if rebuking these weak creatures of an hour for disturbing with their puny presence the mist-beshrouded slumber of these mighty monarchs of all time.After a short conference our friends withdrew again into the shadow of the wood, and sat themselves down to wait patiently for the dawn, talking all the time in a busy undertone, Leigh urging one plan of action, whilst Kenyon was seemingly quite determined upon taking a diametrically opposite course. Leigh wished, in fact, to move on at once towards the north, so as to remove their persons from the tell-tale heights before daybreak, whilst Kenyon was obstinately and aggressively desirous to know what lay behind the frowning wall of rock in their immediate rear, and as this meant re-descending the pass, and apparently crawling up the other side on their hands and knees, without any really definite object in view, Leigh’s arguments certainly seemed the better.“Why, Kenyon,” he concluded, “do you want to change your mind? Formerly you were anxious to penetrate the swamp from an altogether impossible quarter in order to arrive at our present location, and now that you have a good open down-hill road before you, you are keen to turn your back upon it. At least, let me have your reason for this change of front.”“Simply this, Leigh,” was the reply. “The pass itself, I now find, lies somewhat to the north of the equator, and I am positively certain that the man we seek will be found in some place which lies absolutely on the equatorial line, consequently behind us, and therefore away on the other side of the kloof.”“But why, in the name of common-sense,” persisted Leigh, “shouldyour man live on the equator, or near it at all? That’s what I can’t understand.”“See here, Leigh,” was the cool answer; “that was my very first clue to this affair.He lives on latitude Number 0, otherwise Zero. Basing my whole theory and reasoning upon that, I have traced him to this spot, so I may fairly assume that my deductions are correct. However, sooner or later we shall have to investigate this side of the pass, so if you like we’ll toss up when daylight comes, and let the coin decide for us.”Still unconvinced, though admiring the shrewdness of his comrade in following up a mere piece of guess-work, and elaborating it into such a strikingly correct theory, Leigh continued to urge his view of the matter, and soon the dawn came gliding over the earth, waking all nature with a kiss of peace, and preparing her for the advent of the glorious orb of day.
The secret of the place, as revealed by the tell-tale photograph, existed simply in the perfect natural “blind” provided by the presence of the roadthroughthe pass, whilst the slaver’s secret way was defined on the picture by a narrow wavy line, which absolutely wormed its way along the apparently unbroken face of the precipitous cliff itself, this way being primarily gained by climbing over the large, loose boulders which were freely strewed about just inside the entrance to the kloof. Gradually rising, and painfully zig-zagging up the giant wall of the rock, the narrow pathway could be clearly traced until it pierced the dark patch of brushwood which thickly crowned the summits of the towering cliffs, and was thenceforth lost to view. Deferring to Leigh’s anxiety regarding his cousin, the pair left the camp as soon as the moon rose that night, and found, to their surprise, that they could easily climb the slaver’s rocky road, and that what looked like a mere pathway for a goat, was in reality a well-worn track of a uniform width of from two and a half to three feet, and this being positively hollowed out to the depth of nearly a yard, made travelling perfectly safe, if not very fast. Human hands, at least in Central Africa, could never have accomplished such a stupendous task as this, and it was quickly evident to our friends that a small stream, running and zig-zagging down the cliff through the ages of bygone years, had gradually worn for itself a deep channel in the soft sandstone rock, and the lynx-eyed slaver had doubtless seen the value of the position, and on winning his way to the summit, in an abnormally dry season, had turned the stream into some other, and possibly more useful channel.
Proceeding with the utmost caution, and expecting every instant to receive the contents of a rifle through his ribs, Kenyon led the way up this strange ascent and in about forty minutes’ time the pair had entered the dark and heavy patch of trees and brushwood which thickly crowned the cliffs, and which served, in some degree, to mask their true and enormous proportions. Arrived there, progress became of necessity slow, for it was only in places that the moonlight penetrated the interlaced tropic foliage, and threw ghostly patches of light and shade across the path of the adventurers, who drew nearer together as the painfully mysterious silence of the place impressed itself upon them.
It is not an altogether pleasant experience to find yourself alone at night in an ordinary English coppice or plantation, a mile or two from anywhere; but transplant that plantation into equatorial Africa, and stand there with the knowledge that you are hundreds of miles from even the nearest native village, people the wood with bloodthirsty foes, lurking, keen-eyed, in every brake and covert, armed with the treacherous spear or the ready rifle, and you will understand why Leigh and Kenyon, ordinarily bold enough in the open, could only creep forward with their hearts in their mouths, and felt an access of fear when a great owl, disturbed by their cautious passage through the wood, rose from the trees above them, waking the hush of night with a weird, spirit-shaking hoot, and winged his way far off into the moonlight, which was everywhere flooding the outside world with its mellow glory.
Soon, however, our friends again escaped from the lonely wooded path, and emerged into the brilliantly-lighted open, with a magnificent range of vision in every direction, except where the cliffs on the other side of the kloof shot upwards quite a hundred feet beyond the height of those now tenanted by themselves. This peculiarity, which the pair had not previously observed, of course effectually prevented them from seeing anything at all in the southern board, but in front and on each side of them the veldt could be seen sweeping clear away to the skyline, dotted here and there by clumps of bush and by moving herds of game. Behind them the mighty rocks frowned sternly down upon the adventurers, as if rebuking these weak creatures of an hour for disturbing with their puny presence the mist-beshrouded slumber of these mighty monarchs of all time.
After a short conference our friends withdrew again into the shadow of the wood, and sat themselves down to wait patiently for the dawn, talking all the time in a busy undertone, Leigh urging one plan of action, whilst Kenyon was seemingly quite determined upon taking a diametrically opposite course. Leigh wished, in fact, to move on at once towards the north, so as to remove their persons from the tell-tale heights before daybreak, whilst Kenyon was obstinately and aggressively desirous to know what lay behind the frowning wall of rock in their immediate rear, and as this meant re-descending the pass, and apparently crawling up the other side on their hands and knees, without any really definite object in view, Leigh’s arguments certainly seemed the better.
“Why, Kenyon,” he concluded, “do you want to change your mind? Formerly you were anxious to penetrate the swamp from an altogether impossible quarter in order to arrive at our present location, and now that you have a good open down-hill road before you, you are keen to turn your back upon it. At least, let me have your reason for this change of front.”
“Simply this, Leigh,” was the reply. “The pass itself, I now find, lies somewhat to the north of the equator, and I am positively certain that the man we seek will be found in some place which lies absolutely on the equatorial line, consequently behind us, and therefore away on the other side of the kloof.”
“But why, in the name of common-sense,” persisted Leigh, “shouldyour man live on the equator, or near it at all? That’s what I can’t understand.”
“See here, Leigh,” was the cool answer; “that was my very first clue to this affair.He lives on latitude Number 0, otherwise Zero. Basing my whole theory and reasoning upon that, I have traced him to this spot, so I may fairly assume that my deductions are correct. However, sooner or later we shall have to investigate this side of the pass, so if you like we’ll toss up when daylight comes, and let the coin decide for us.”
Still unconvinced, though admiring the shrewdness of his comrade in following up a mere piece of guess-work, and elaborating it into such a strikingly correct theory, Leigh continued to urge his view of the matter, and soon the dawn came gliding over the earth, waking all nature with a kiss of peace, and preparing her for the advent of the glorious orb of day.
Chapter Six.Richard Grenville, his Mark.The daylight, however, told our friends nothing very new, only Kenyon hinted to Leigh that where the rocks below them levelled down to, and impinged upon, the veldt, everything was most suspiciously green and verdant, from which he inferred the presence of their old enemy, the marsh, in the immediate vicinity; then, turning round to examine the opposite cliff, his eye was caught by what seemed to be a curious kind of diagram engraved upon the face of the rock, perhaps two or three yards from the upper edge of one of its platforms, and scarce fifty feet away from them across the intervening chasm. The appearance it presented was as undernoted, the characters being some eighteen to twenty inches in length, and cut deeply into the soft sandstone with some apparently blunt instrument.“Now,” said Kenyon, calling his companion’s attention to this, “what the deuce does yonder curious hieroglyphic signify? I’ve no knowledge of Arabic, but I think I’m right in saying that those signs belong to the calligraphy of no known language. To my professional eye they rather resemble a rough gibbet with three bodies hanging from it.”It so happened that, as soon as daylight had satisfied the pair that their foes were not hanging about in the immediate vicinity, Leigh had quietly laid himself down to enjoy a comfortable smoke, and was at the moment in question lying on the broad of his back, gazing at the wide vista of country below him, and puffing away in perfect tranquillity, with the apex of his skull pointing towards the chasm. To save himself the trouble of rising, he lazily elevated his chin, and performed the interesting occupation of looking, so to speak, over the top of his own head, and then electrified Kenyon by bounding to his feet with a wild hurrah, and shaking hands with him enthusiastically. “Found!” he fairly yelled. “Found, as sure as there is a heaven above us!”“Why, confound it, old fellow,” said Kenyon, ruefully nursing his bruised fingers, “whatever is the matter with you?”“Matter!” was the reply. “Why, your hieroglyphic is as good as my cousin looking me in the face from yonder splendid rock. The solution of your mystery is a simple matter to me—a man, hanging head-downwards from yonder cliff, laboriously graved those curious characters, upside down, as we see them, upon the face of the rock, and the hand that wrote them was the hand of Grenville.”“And the meaning?” queried the attentive Kenyon, without showing any of his customary signs of incredulity or dissent.“The hieroglyphic which is such a stumbling-block to you, Kenyon, simplified, stands thus:—“I.v. LIII,“and the meaning is merely ‘Richard Grenville.’ It was a secret sign between my cousin and myself when we were mere schoolboys, and the simile was drawn from the memorable sea-fight in the reign of good Queen Bess, when Sir Richard Grenvil—God rest him for a gallant gentleman!—‘with one small ship and his English few,’ fought for a day and a night with fifty-three Spanish galleons. As a boy, my cousin—though no descendant of the hero—was passionately devoted to this page of history, and used to sign himself ‘1versus53,’ and so, by yonder sign, I know he lives, and lives looking for me to find him, and to read the hand he wrote, which to all others would, of course, be utterly unintelligible.” And Leigh again set to and fairly danced with joy and excitement at this truly singular and fortunate discovery.Whilst being thoroughly surprised, Kenyon could but congratulate himself at seeing the hall-mark of absolute accuracy thus unexpectedly stamped upon every link in the chain of his pet theory, and both men were now equally eager to descend the rocky pathway—the reason for the existence of this last being, under the circumstances, a positive enigma to them—and recommence their search for the lost one on the other side of the kloof.After a hasty breakfast, however, the pair decided that, as they were already on the spot, it would be best to thoroughly satisfy themselves regarding their own side of the chasm, more especially as, by the time they had descended the rocky pathway and called at the camp, it would have been too late to attempt the ascent of the cliffs, which were now believed by them to provide a rampart for the enemy, and a prison for their friend.The twain, therefore, scrambled down the rocks facing towards the north, and quickly found, as Kenyon had predicted, that the position on that side was rendered altogether inaccessible by the presence of the swamp, which just here was very much in evidence. In every direction, as far as the eye could reach, it spread itself out brightly verdant and inviting in the sunshine, but utterly treacherous and unstable, and the nearer it approached to the rocks the more palpable did the fraud appear, as, at the point where the stony ground impinged upon the veldt, the swamp was little better than stagnant pools of slimy, evil-smelling water, overgrown with reeds and rushes.Re-ascending the rocks, Leigh and Kenyon sheltered themselves in the woods from the rays of the vertical sun, utilising their time by making themselves, as they believed, thoroughly conversant with the place, and when the day began to grow towards evening, they left the bush-clothed heights, and again turned their faces towards the camp.Just as the pair commenced the descent of the narrow rocky path Kenyon suddenly paused, and drew in his breath with an angry hiss, and following the direction of his eager gaze, Leigh looked towards their tent, which was plainly in view, about a mile away as the crow flies.From the height at which our friends stood, they had, of course, an unrestricted view of the plain stretched out before them, and everything upon it, and there, some two hundred yards from the camp, and clearly outlined against the veldt upon which he lay stretched, was the unwelcome figure of an unmistakable spy, who, so far as he could be made out at that distance, wore the garments of a white man.When he had spent quite half-an-hour in this position, and no doubt thoroughly taken stock of his surroundings, the fellow was seen to turn and worm his way back, until he obtained the cover of a low clump of bush about a quarter of a mile from the camp, and was thenceforward hidden from sight.After some little time had elapsed, and as our friends were debating what steps they had best take, a fresh surprise was provided for them, as the pair distinctly saw a snow-white pigeon leave the bush in question, describe one or two airy circles round it, and then wing its way directly towards the cliffs across the kloof, beyond which it quickly disappeared.“A carrier pigeon, by Jove!” said Kenyon, “doubtless bearing a request to Master Zero to come down and cut all our throats to-night. All right, my friend, forewarned is forearmed, and you’ll find it so this evening, unless I am very much mistaken.”Carefully getting down to the exit of the pass, the twain commenced a cautious stalk, and came in upon their quarry just at dusk, and great was the astonishment and consternation of the wretched spy when the two men quietly rose from the long grass, and, covering him with their revolvers, peremptorily ordered him to lay down his arms; this he promptly did in most abject fashion, and was in two minutes bound hard and fast with his own lasso, of which most objectionable instrument his armament consisted, backed up by a long American muzzle-loading rifle and a light axe or tomahawk.The captive was apparently a Spaniard, as he protested volubly in that language—of which Kenyon had a smattering—against the gratuitous outrage committed upon his unoffending person.Suddenly, taking advantage of an instant when neither of his captors had their eyes on him, the fellow darted to one side, and gave a kick at some small object which our friends had passed unnoticed in the long grass; this object, however, proved to be a little wicker basket, and from this receptacle—its prison doors thrown open by the intentional violence of its owner—there fluttered a large, black pigeon, which circled round the heads of the party and prepared to take its flight, just as its white predecessor had previously done. Fortunately, the bird was dazed and confused by the blow it had received, and hovered round the spot an instant too long. Like a flash Leigh’s rifle went to his shoulder, and the next second the bird lay in a lifeless heap upon the ground, whilst the spy ground out a bitter Spanish curse.The shot was a very fine one, and but few men could have accomplished it with a repeating-rifle and a single bullet, but its success had, without a doubt, prevented the spy from giving to his friends or followers inopportune notice of his capture and detention.Quickly proceeding into camp, where the rifle-shot had set their men buzzing about like bees, a hasty meal was partaken of, and then, leaving the tent still standing, the whole party, upwards of twenty-five in number, at once set out for the pass, as our friends believed that if they could once get their men up to the top of the rocky path, they would easily be able to hold the wood and the steep and narrow way against all comers. Finding it a matter of impossibility to get any information out of the captive, they gagged him and walked him off with them, Kenyon sternly telling him that if he tried to make any noise or attempted to escape, he would run a hunting-knife through his ribs without further notice.By the time the moon rose the party had stumbled out their way to the mouth of the kloof, and soon had sufficient light to commence the ascent. Having to go in front and lead the way, Kenyon put Leigh in the rear to see that none of the bearers lost heart and turned back, giving the captive into the charge of a gigantic Zanzibari, and warning him that did he let the man go he should himself be shot like a dog. All went well until the party was quite two-thirds of the way up the zig-zag in the rock, when suddenly a commotion arose, and a cry went up that the prisoner was escaping. Turning angrily round, with his revolver half raised, Kenyon saw the spy standing on the very edge of the parapet of rock, with his hands at liberty, and in the act of drawing the gag from his mouth. On seeing Kenyon turn, the Zanzibari doubtless thought he was himself about to be shot, and impelled by rage and fear, he sprang wildly upon the ledge of rock and seized the Spaniard by the throat. Forgetting the extreme danger of his position, the white man swayed backwards to strike an effective blow at his sable assailant, overbalanced, and down they both went, with a horrid scream that rang out far into the stilly night, and awakened long-drawn, fearsome echoes in the dark and silent kloof.One second more, and the horror-stricken band of listeners heard the united bodies of the ill-fated pair strike with a sickening scrunch on the rocks five hundred feet below. The whole affair was over in an instant of time, and even the stem detective was deeply impressed by this awful dual fatality, and could only beckon with his hand for the others to follow him upwards quickly and in silence.In a few moments more the adventurers emerged from the rocky path and gained the shelter of the bushes, where Leigh and Kenyon quickly bestowed the men in safe covers, and then posted themselves at a point from which they could command the other side of the kloof, and so possibly form an opinion as to how their enemies scaled its heights; for at a glance the ascent gave promise of providing them with an extremely difficult, if not impossible, task, and if, in addition to negotiating this, they had to copeen routewith an armed and intrenched foe, the prospect of success would be extremely problematical.Leigh had a theory that the slavers were provided with long rope-ladders, but arguing from the rapid disappearance of the slave caravan, Kenyon declared that this suggestion would not hold water for a moment.Scarcely had Leigh and Kenyon gained their covers than, to their utter astonishment, steps were heard approaching through the wood in their rear, and whilst they were making themselves as small as possible, and breathing a devout prayer that the black fellows might not lose their heads and try to run away, a band of armed men passed swiftly by their position and emerged into the moonlight.The new-comers were about thirty in number, all armed with axe, rifle, and lasso, and were, with but two or three exceptions, white men. As they reached the zig-zag pass, the party extended into single file and promptly disappeared from view down the face of the rock. Until all had vanished Kenyon scarcely breathed, then Leigh and he turned eagerly to one another, and hurriedly and anxiously discussed the situation.Their examination that very day of the side of the kloof upon which they now stood had been much too complete to admit of their believing that the men who had just passed them had been all the time lying hid, and the inference naturally was that these strange people had some peculiar method of crossing the gorge at its upper edge. Such an apparently preposterous idea had, of course, not occurred to the pair when searching the wood, but had the path been at all easy to find they would most certainly have stumbled across it.Moving quietly along the back track, the pair cautiously examined every likely spot, and were about to enter a particularly black-looking clump of bush, when they were suddenly brought to a standstill by the gruff challenge of a colossal-looking sentry, who started out from the dark background of wood and threateningly raised his rifle.“Halt! halt! and give the password!”Leigh’s hand stole towards his revolver; but men think rapidly in emergencies like this, and in a moment of inspiration, Kenyon coolly answered, “Zero!”“Pass, Zero, and all’s well,” grunted the gigantic sentinel, grounding his arms with a clash, and then, in a theatrical whisper as the pair approached him, “Mates, you haven’t got a drink on you, have you? It’s main cold up here.”Quickly Leigh held out his flask, and as the other was in the very act of drinking, Kenyon flew at his throat like a cat, and choked him down, whilst Leigh knelt on his chest, and tried to bind him. Our friends were both exceptionally powerful men, but this fellow was a regular bull of Bashan, and it was only after a low whistle had summoned one of their native guides that the trio got the sentry bound and gagged to their satisfaction. Next, sending the black fellow to keep watch at the top of the zig-zag, the pair set to to thoroughly explore the tangled path which had been guarded by the sentry. A most unpleasant task this was, too, feeling their way about on the very verge of an immense precipice, thickly clothed with trees and bush, through which the rays of the moon cast at intervals a sickly glamour of feeble light and heavy shade.At last a brief exclamation from Leigh announced a discovery, and standing by his side, and looking directly across the chasm, Kenyon saw a curious, and in its way, a striking spectacle. From one side of the kloof to the other stretched the taut strands of a mighty double rope or hawser, and from this rope was suspended a small cage, capable of containing two or three men, the occupants drawing themselves across by small guide-ropes, whilst the cage moved easily along the hawser upon wheeled blocks, the whole arrangement being entirely concealed from the view of anyone, either above or below, by the trees on either side of the chasm, which at this point blended and interlaced both their foliage and their branches.So far good, but as the cage now swung in mid-air over the very centre of the chasm itself, and had, moreover, an occupant, it was difficult to see what the next move was to be. It was, however, our friends reflected, at all events consoling to know that a slash or two with a sharp knife would effectually dispose of all possibility of their savage foes attacking them in the rear.Just at this moment a cautious whistle told Kenyon that danger was to be apprehended from the direction of the veldt, but at that very instant the man in the cage, evidently thinking that the signal had been given for his benefit, commenced to haul upon the rope, and quickly gaining their side of the chasm, leaped out right into the ready arms of the pair, who very soon had him securely gagged and tied to a tree, at a little distance from his fellow. Hurrying back as another low but earnest whistle reached their ears, our friends found that the slavers had been seen to surround the tent, and thoroughly explore it; then, evidently disliking the look of things, they had set out at speed towards the pass, which they must now be in the very act of climbing.Carrying off the whole frightened crowd, with the exception of one man who had shown himself a tolerable marksman and something removed from an abject coward, Kenyon showed them how to cross the chasm safely and quietly, and bade them get over at once with all the ammunition. Persuasion and explanation was, however, of no use at all, and he had to drive the first batch into the strange vehicle at the muzzle of his revolver. Then, finding they were quite safe, the negroes promptly commenced to chatter like so many monkeys, whereupon Kenyon threatened to shoot them, if he heard another sound, and then returned with all expedition to Leigh, who had posted himself so as to command the zig-zag, and had cleverly rolled a big rock into the very mouth of the channel by which the foe was approaching.All was now in readiness, and a dead silence reigned. The hush of a tranquil tropical midnight was upon everything, and all nature was looking her loveliest under the glamour of the shimmering moonlight. All at once the stillness was marred by a footfall, and then rent, as it were, by a furious curse, as the leading slaver reached the top of the pass, and found the way blocked up. Climbing carefully over the stone, however, he safely reached terra firma, and was stooping down to remove the obstruction, when he was angrily hailed in nervous English by Kenyon—“Here, you dog, leave that stone alone, and go back by the way you came. Quickly now, and drop that rifle—drop it, I say, or your blood be on your own head!”For answer, the fellow fired point-blank in the direction of the voice (for he could not see Kenyon, who was standing in the shadows of the wood), and then made for cover, but he never reached it; indeed, he had hardly moved in his tracks, when down he went, as dead as a door-nail, being followed a moment later, along the same dark and fearsome road, by a comrade who persisted in obtruding over the rock rather more of his person than Leigh was disposed to permit, and ere the thundering echoes of the rifles had ceased to answer and to mock one another amongst the surrounding rocks, the remainder of the slavers, having no more stomach for such work, were in full retreat down the rock, and half an hour later were seen steering wide out into the south-western veldt, thus putting entirely to rest any doubts which Kenyon still entertained of the feasibility of an attempt to scale the opposite cliffs.Had there been any way of ascending on the other side of the kloof, it was quite certain the slavers would have known about it, whereas they had clearly found it necessary to make a very wide circuit in order to get round the rocks, and thus make their way back to head-quarters.Sending forward their sable supporters with instructions to get the prisoners across the chasm, Kenyon led his wondering comrade up the cliffs to the right, where they suddenly came upon a small lake, obviously fed by a neighbouring mountain stream.“Now, old fellow,” said he, “just lay down your rifle, and help me to break up this wall, and assist outraged nature to regain her ancient rights.”Leigh quickly saw that the water, which came sweeping rhythmically down from the further heights beyond the hill, had at this point been artfully turned by a well-made wall, built of rock and broken stone, and apparently strengthened with mortar or cement, so that the stream, instead of exercising its own sweet will by zig-zagging down the rock, as it had done of yore, was wasted on the north-western veldt, where its advent had probably been largely responsible for the origination of the marsh, which had already given our friends such a world of trouble. The wall of the dam, however, proved considerably stronger than Kenyon had bargained for, so they finally bored a hole in it, and blew the whole affair up with a couple of flasks of powder taken from the fallen slavers.When the smoke of the explosion cleared away, the released water could be seen bounding over the rocks, and shooting down the narrow channel with a wild, sweeping rush, effectually closing this method of ascending the cliffs unless in abnormally dry seasons. A moment later and our friends could see the stream filtering along its old course across the veldt, looking like a mighty silver snake as it gleamed and twisted on its tortuous way, reflecting at every turn the brilliancy of the lovely crescent moon.Regaining the edge of the kloof, our friends stepped into the cage, and were soon hauled across the chasm by one of their men, who was already quite expert in this singular method of semi-aerial procedure.On examining the prisoners Kenyon was disgusted to find that they were both stone dead, the cowardly blacks having killed them, bound as they were, lest the slavers should get loose and do them an injury. This was the more aggravating, as Kenyon had fairly counted upon forcing information of some kind out of the men, and he was, besides, disposed to think well of the big sentry who had hailed them in English. However, the men were dead, and it was, therefore, useless regretting them, but Kenyon inwardly registered a vow to get even with the rascal who had committed such a brace of infernally cold-blooded murders should he ever find him out. Then sternly ordering the men to shoulder their loads, the party set out under the waning moon, directing their steps downwards and towards the south-east.
The daylight, however, told our friends nothing very new, only Kenyon hinted to Leigh that where the rocks below them levelled down to, and impinged upon, the veldt, everything was most suspiciously green and verdant, from which he inferred the presence of their old enemy, the marsh, in the immediate vicinity; then, turning round to examine the opposite cliff, his eye was caught by what seemed to be a curious kind of diagram engraved upon the face of the rock, perhaps two or three yards from the upper edge of one of its platforms, and scarce fifty feet away from them across the intervening chasm. The appearance it presented was as undernoted, the characters being some eighteen to twenty inches in length, and cut deeply into the soft sandstone with some apparently blunt instrument.
“Now,” said Kenyon, calling his companion’s attention to this, “what the deuce does yonder curious hieroglyphic signify? I’ve no knowledge of Arabic, but I think I’m right in saying that those signs belong to the calligraphy of no known language. To my professional eye they rather resemble a rough gibbet with three bodies hanging from it.”
It so happened that, as soon as daylight had satisfied the pair that their foes were not hanging about in the immediate vicinity, Leigh had quietly laid himself down to enjoy a comfortable smoke, and was at the moment in question lying on the broad of his back, gazing at the wide vista of country below him, and puffing away in perfect tranquillity, with the apex of his skull pointing towards the chasm. To save himself the trouble of rising, he lazily elevated his chin, and performed the interesting occupation of looking, so to speak, over the top of his own head, and then electrified Kenyon by bounding to his feet with a wild hurrah, and shaking hands with him enthusiastically. “Found!” he fairly yelled. “Found, as sure as there is a heaven above us!”
“Why, confound it, old fellow,” said Kenyon, ruefully nursing his bruised fingers, “whatever is the matter with you?”
“Matter!” was the reply. “Why, your hieroglyphic is as good as my cousin looking me in the face from yonder splendid rock. The solution of your mystery is a simple matter to me—a man, hanging head-downwards from yonder cliff, laboriously graved those curious characters, upside down, as we see them, upon the face of the rock, and the hand that wrote them was the hand of Grenville.”
“And the meaning?” queried the attentive Kenyon, without showing any of his customary signs of incredulity or dissent.
“The hieroglyphic which is such a stumbling-block to you, Kenyon, simplified, stands thus:—
“I.v. LIII,
“and the meaning is merely ‘Richard Grenville.’ It was a secret sign between my cousin and myself when we were mere schoolboys, and the simile was drawn from the memorable sea-fight in the reign of good Queen Bess, when Sir Richard Grenvil—God rest him for a gallant gentleman!—‘with one small ship and his English few,’ fought for a day and a night with fifty-three Spanish galleons. As a boy, my cousin—though no descendant of the hero—was passionately devoted to this page of history, and used to sign himself ‘1versus53,’ and so, by yonder sign, I know he lives, and lives looking for me to find him, and to read the hand he wrote, which to all others would, of course, be utterly unintelligible.” And Leigh again set to and fairly danced with joy and excitement at this truly singular and fortunate discovery.
Whilst being thoroughly surprised, Kenyon could but congratulate himself at seeing the hall-mark of absolute accuracy thus unexpectedly stamped upon every link in the chain of his pet theory, and both men were now equally eager to descend the rocky pathway—the reason for the existence of this last being, under the circumstances, a positive enigma to them—and recommence their search for the lost one on the other side of the kloof.
After a hasty breakfast, however, the pair decided that, as they were already on the spot, it would be best to thoroughly satisfy themselves regarding their own side of the chasm, more especially as, by the time they had descended the rocky pathway and called at the camp, it would have been too late to attempt the ascent of the cliffs, which were now believed by them to provide a rampart for the enemy, and a prison for their friend.
The twain, therefore, scrambled down the rocks facing towards the north, and quickly found, as Kenyon had predicted, that the position on that side was rendered altogether inaccessible by the presence of the swamp, which just here was very much in evidence. In every direction, as far as the eye could reach, it spread itself out brightly verdant and inviting in the sunshine, but utterly treacherous and unstable, and the nearer it approached to the rocks the more palpable did the fraud appear, as, at the point where the stony ground impinged upon the veldt, the swamp was little better than stagnant pools of slimy, evil-smelling water, overgrown with reeds and rushes.
Re-ascending the rocks, Leigh and Kenyon sheltered themselves in the woods from the rays of the vertical sun, utilising their time by making themselves, as they believed, thoroughly conversant with the place, and when the day began to grow towards evening, they left the bush-clothed heights, and again turned their faces towards the camp.
Just as the pair commenced the descent of the narrow rocky path Kenyon suddenly paused, and drew in his breath with an angry hiss, and following the direction of his eager gaze, Leigh looked towards their tent, which was plainly in view, about a mile away as the crow flies.
From the height at which our friends stood, they had, of course, an unrestricted view of the plain stretched out before them, and everything upon it, and there, some two hundred yards from the camp, and clearly outlined against the veldt upon which he lay stretched, was the unwelcome figure of an unmistakable spy, who, so far as he could be made out at that distance, wore the garments of a white man.
When he had spent quite half-an-hour in this position, and no doubt thoroughly taken stock of his surroundings, the fellow was seen to turn and worm his way back, until he obtained the cover of a low clump of bush about a quarter of a mile from the camp, and was thenceforward hidden from sight.
After some little time had elapsed, and as our friends were debating what steps they had best take, a fresh surprise was provided for them, as the pair distinctly saw a snow-white pigeon leave the bush in question, describe one or two airy circles round it, and then wing its way directly towards the cliffs across the kloof, beyond which it quickly disappeared.
“A carrier pigeon, by Jove!” said Kenyon, “doubtless bearing a request to Master Zero to come down and cut all our throats to-night. All right, my friend, forewarned is forearmed, and you’ll find it so this evening, unless I am very much mistaken.”
Carefully getting down to the exit of the pass, the twain commenced a cautious stalk, and came in upon their quarry just at dusk, and great was the astonishment and consternation of the wretched spy when the two men quietly rose from the long grass, and, covering him with their revolvers, peremptorily ordered him to lay down his arms; this he promptly did in most abject fashion, and was in two minutes bound hard and fast with his own lasso, of which most objectionable instrument his armament consisted, backed up by a long American muzzle-loading rifle and a light axe or tomahawk.
The captive was apparently a Spaniard, as he protested volubly in that language—of which Kenyon had a smattering—against the gratuitous outrage committed upon his unoffending person.
Suddenly, taking advantage of an instant when neither of his captors had their eyes on him, the fellow darted to one side, and gave a kick at some small object which our friends had passed unnoticed in the long grass; this object, however, proved to be a little wicker basket, and from this receptacle—its prison doors thrown open by the intentional violence of its owner—there fluttered a large, black pigeon, which circled round the heads of the party and prepared to take its flight, just as its white predecessor had previously done. Fortunately, the bird was dazed and confused by the blow it had received, and hovered round the spot an instant too long. Like a flash Leigh’s rifle went to his shoulder, and the next second the bird lay in a lifeless heap upon the ground, whilst the spy ground out a bitter Spanish curse.
The shot was a very fine one, and but few men could have accomplished it with a repeating-rifle and a single bullet, but its success had, without a doubt, prevented the spy from giving to his friends or followers inopportune notice of his capture and detention.
Quickly proceeding into camp, where the rifle-shot had set their men buzzing about like bees, a hasty meal was partaken of, and then, leaving the tent still standing, the whole party, upwards of twenty-five in number, at once set out for the pass, as our friends believed that if they could once get their men up to the top of the rocky path, they would easily be able to hold the wood and the steep and narrow way against all comers. Finding it a matter of impossibility to get any information out of the captive, they gagged him and walked him off with them, Kenyon sternly telling him that if he tried to make any noise or attempted to escape, he would run a hunting-knife through his ribs without further notice.
By the time the moon rose the party had stumbled out their way to the mouth of the kloof, and soon had sufficient light to commence the ascent. Having to go in front and lead the way, Kenyon put Leigh in the rear to see that none of the bearers lost heart and turned back, giving the captive into the charge of a gigantic Zanzibari, and warning him that did he let the man go he should himself be shot like a dog. All went well until the party was quite two-thirds of the way up the zig-zag in the rock, when suddenly a commotion arose, and a cry went up that the prisoner was escaping. Turning angrily round, with his revolver half raised, Kenyon saw the spy standing on the very edge of the parapet of rock, with his hands at liberty, and in the act of drawing the gag from his mouth. On seeing Kenyon turn, the Zanzibari doubtless thought he was himself about to be shot, and impelled by rage and fear, he sprang wildly upon the ledge of rock and seized the Spaniard by the throat. Forgetting the extreme danger of his position, the white man swayed backwards to strike an effective blow at his sable assailant, overbalanced, and down they both went, with a horrid scream that rang out far into the stilly night, and awakened long-drawn, fearsome echoes in the dark and silent kloof.
One second more, and the horror-stricken band of listeners heard the united bodies of the ill-fated pair strike with a sickening scrunch on the rocks five hundred feet below. The whole affair was over in an instant of time, and even the stem detective was deeply impressed by this awful dual fatality, and could only beckon with his hand for the others to follow him upwards quickly and in silence.
In a few moments more the adventurers emerged from the rocky path and gained the shelter of the bushes, where Leigh and Kenyon quickly bestowed the men in safe covers, and then posted themselves at a point from which they could command the other side of the kloof, and so possibly form an opinion as to how their enemies scaled its heights; for at a glance the ascent gave promise of providing them with an extremely difficult, if not impossible, task, and if, in addition to negotiating this, they had to copeen routewith an armed and intrenched foe, the prospect of success would be extremely problematical.
Leigh had a theory that the slavers were provided with long rope-ladders, but arguing from the rapid disappearance of the slave caravan, Kenyon declared that this suggestion would not hold water for a moment.
Scarcely had Leigh and Kenyon gained their covers than, to their utter astonishment, steps were heard approaching through the wood in their rear, and whilst they were making themselves as small as possible, and breathing a devout prayer that the black fellows might not lose their heads and try to run away, a band of armed men passed swiftly by their position and emerged into the moonlight.
The new-comers were about thirty in number, all armed with axe, rifle, and lasso, and were, with but two or three exceptions, white men. As they reached the zig-zag pass, the party extended into single file and promptly disappeared from view down the face of the rock. Until all had vanished Kenyon scarcely breathed, then Leigh and he turned eagerly to one another, and hurriedly and anxiously discussed the situation.
Their examination that very day of the side of the kloof upon which they now stood had been much too complete to admit of their believing that the men who had just passed them had been all the time lying hid, and the inference naturally was that these strange people had some peculiar method of crossing the gorge at its upper edge. Such an apparently preposterous idea had, of course, not occurred to the pair when searching the wood, but had the path been at all easy to find they would most certainly have stumbled across it.
Moving quietly along the back track, the pair cautiously examined every likely spot, and were about to enter a particularly black-looking clump of bush, when they were suddenly brought to a standstill by the gruff challenge of a colossal-looking sentry, who started out from the dark background of wood and threateningly raised his rifle.
“Halt! halt! and give the password!”
Leigh’s hand stole towards his revolver; but men think rapidly in emergencies like this, and in a moment of inspiration, Kenyon coolly answered, “Zero!”
“Pass, Zero, and all’s well,” grunted the gigantic sentinel, grounding his arms with a clash, and then, in a theatrical whisper as the pair approached him, “Mates, you haven’t got a drink on you, have you? It’s main cold up here.”
Quickly Leigh held out his flask, and as the other was in the very act of drinking, Kenyon flew at his throat like a cat, and choked him down, whilst Leigh knelt on his chest, and tried to bind him. Our friends were both exceptionally powerful men, but this fellow was a regular bull of Bashan, and it was only after a low whistle had summoned one of their native guides that the trio got the sentry bound and gagged to their satisfaction. Next, sending the black fellow to keep watch at the top of the zig-zag, the pair set to to thoroughly explore the tangled path which had been guarded by the sentry. A most unpleasant task this was, too, feeling their way about on the very verge of an immense precipice, thickly clothed with trees and bush, through which the rays of the moon cast at intervals a sickly glamour of feeble light and heavy shade.
At last a brief exclamation from Leigh announced a discovery, and standing by his side, and looking directly across the chasm, Kenyon saw a curious, and in its way, a striking spectacle. From one side of the kloof to the other stretched the taut strands of a mighty double rope or hawser, and from this rope was suspended a small cage, capable of containing two or three men, the occupants drawing themselves across by small guide-ropes, whilst the cage moved easily along the hawser upon wheeled blocks, the whole arrangement being entirely concealed from the view of anyone, either above or below, by the trees on either side of the chasm, which at this point blended and interlaced both their foliage and their branches.
So far good, but as the cage now swung in mid-air over the very centre of the chasm itself, and had, moreover, an occupant, it was difficult to see what the next move was to be. It was, however, our friends reflected, at all events consoling to know that a slash or two with a sharp knife would effectually dispose of all possibility of their savage foes attacking them in the rear.
Just at this moment a cautious whistle told Kenyon that danger was to be apprehended from the direction of the veldt, but at that very instant the man in the cage, evidently thinking that the signal had been given for his benefit, commenced to haul upon the rope, and quickly gaining their side of the chasm, leaped out right into the ready arms of the pair, who very soon had him securely gagged and tied to a tree, at a little distance from his fellow. Hurrying back as another low but earnest whistle reached their ears, our friends found that the slavers had been seen to surround the tent, and thoroughly explore it; then, evidently disliking the look of things, they had set out at speed towards the pass, which they must now be in the very act of climbing.
Carrying off the whole frightened crowd, with the exception of one man who had shown himself a tolerable marksman and something removed from an abject coward, Kenyon showed them how to cross the chasm safely and quietly, and bade them get over at once with all the ammunition. Persuasion and explanation was, however, of no use at all, and he had to drive the first batch into the strange vehicle at the muzzle of his revolver. Then, finding they were quite safe, the negroes promptly commenced to chatter like so many monkeys, whereupon Kenyon threatened to shoot them, if he heard another sound, and then returned with all expedition to Leigh, who had posted himself so as to command the zig-zag, and had cleverly rolled a big rock into the very mouth of the channel by which the foe was approaching.
All was now in readiness, and a dead silence reigned. The hush of a tranquil tropical midnight was upon everything, and all nature was looking her loveliest under the glamour of the shimmering moonlight. All at once the stillness was marred by a footfall, and then rent, as it were, by a furious curse, as the leading slaver reached the top of the pass, and found the way blocked up. Climbing carefully over the stone, however, he safely reached terra firma, and was stooping down to remove the obstruction, when he was angrily hailed in nervous English by Kenyon—“Here, you dog, leave that stone alone, and go back by the way you came. Quickly now, and drop that rifle—drop it, I say, or your blood be on your own head!”
For answer, the fellow fired point-blank in the direction of the voice (for he could not see Kenyon, who was standing in the shadows of the wood), and then made for cover, but he never reached it; indeed, he had hardly moved in his tracks, when down he went, as dead as a door-nail, being followed a moment later, along the same dark and fearsome road, by a comrade who persisted in obtruding over the rock rather more of his person than Leigh was disposed to permit, and ere the thundering echoes of the rifles had ceased to answer and to mock one another amongst the surrounding rocks, the remainder of the slavers, having no more stomach for such work, were in full retreat down the rock, and half an hour later were seen steering wide out into the south-western veldt, thus putting entirely to rest any doubts which Kenyon still entertained of the feasibility of an attempt to scale the opposite cliffs.
Had there been any way of ascending on the other side of the kloof, it was quite certain the slavers would have known about it, whereas they had clearly found it necessary to make a very wide circuit in order to get round the rocks, and thus make their way back to head-quarters.
Sending forward their sable supporters with instructions to get the prisoners across the chasm, Kenyon led his wondering comrade up the cliffs to the right, where they suddenly came upon a small lake, obviously fed by a neighbouring mountain stream.
“Now, old fellow,” said he, “just lay down your rifle, and help me to break up this wall, and assist outraged nature to regain her ancient rights.”
Leigh quickly saw that the water, which came sweeping rhythmically down from the further heights beyond the hill, had at this point been artfully turned by a well-made wall, built of rock and broken stone, and apparently strengthened with mortar or cement, so that the stream, instead of exercising its own sweet will by zig-zagging down the rock, as it had done of yore, was wasted on the north-western veldt, where its advent had probably been largely responsible for the origination of the marsh, which had already given our friends such a world of trouble. The wall of the dam, however, proved considerably stronger than Kenyon had bargained for, so they finally bored a hole in it, and blew the whole affair up with a couple of flasks of powder taken from the fallen slavers.
When the smoke of the explosion cleared away, the released water could be seen bounding over the rocks, and shooting down the narrow channel with a wild, sweeping rush, effectually closing this method of ascending the cliffs unless in abnormally dry seasons. A moment later and our friends could see the stream filtering along its old course across the veldt, looking like a mighty silver snake as it gleamed and twisted on its tortuous way, reflecting at every turn the brilliancy of the lovely crescent moon.
Regaining the edge of the kloof, our friends stepped into the cage, and were soon hauled across the chasm by one of their men, who was already quite expert in this singular method of semi-aerial procedure.
On examining the prisoners Kenyon was disgusted to find that they were both stone dead, the cowardly blacks having killed them, bound as they were, lest the slavers should get loose and do them an injury. This was the more aggravating, as Kenyon had fairly counted upon forcing information of some kind out of the men, and he was, besides, disposed to think well of the big sentry who had hailed them in English. However, the men were dead, and it was, therefore, useless regretting them, but Kenyon inwardly registered a vow to get even with the rascal who had committed such a brace of infernally cold-blooded murders should he ever find him out. Then sternly ordering the men to shoulder their loads, the party set out under the waning moon, directing their steps downwards and towards the south-east.
Chapter Seven.“Just in Time.”For quite a quarter of a mile our friends found that the road provided very rough travelling indeed. This was the more annoying, as the moon was fast going down, and it was a matter of vital importance that the little band should progress quickly and secure a strong position before daylight revealed their movements to the enemy.Their only difficulty would be with regard to water, as the party had an abundant supply of stores and ammunition; for, having, of course, no idea as to how long the expedition might be detained in the Interior, Leigh had provisioned it most lavishly, and as game had hitherto been plentiful, the stores had been very lightly dealt with.In an hour’s time all had, as they thought, reached level ground, for the road, after the first half-mile had been negotiated, proved fairly good, and finding a lofty cavern in the rock, Kenyon drew his whole party into it, cast anchor, and wished for the day.The darkness had now become positively opaque, for the moon had entirely disappeared behind the mountains, and a film of mist seemed everywhere to hang over the lower lands, and had their enemies been absolutely within arm’s length, our friends would have been utterly unable to distinguish them.Soon, however, the “darkest hour” was over, and the eastern mountains became dimly outlined through the gauze-like curtain of mist, as the glad light of another brilliant day came speeding in upon the wings of the morning, heralding the advent of the sun himself with all the attendant splendour of an equatorial African day.Our friends at once perceived that, so far from having reached the level of the country, they were at present posted on a ridgy platform upon the mountain side, whilst far below them, the land which lay considerably lower than that on the other side of the kloof, was stretched out before them in wonderfully beautiful panorama.On one hand a limpid stream glided peacefully along its course, making dreamland music in the sunshine, and watering mile after mile of verdant pasture land, which was dotted hero and there with moving herds of game, whilst on the other was a mighty belt of giant forest trees, backed to the eastward by the everlasting mountains, which appeared absolutely to ring-in the country in that direction, though towards the west, as far as the eye could reach, only grass land could be seen, the rolling veldt sweeping clear away to the skyline unrelieved by even a single clump of trees or bush, and broken only here and there by the silvery tracery of tiny streamlets; whilst to the south, blue in the far distance and faintly relieved against the azure setting of the sky, could be traced the dim outline of a giant mountain-peak, probably fifteen thousand feet in height, its snow-capped crest flashing back in many-coloured radiance each glorious spear of light cast by the rising sun.Kenyon and Leigh were about to give the word to their men (all of whom were busily gazing at the inviting prospect before them) to get under weigh, when both were fairly electrified by hearing a voice raised in the cavern just behind them.“Greeting!” it said; “greeting to ye strangers.” Then as our friends turned quickly round, and their white personality became evident to the speaker, “Greeting, white strangers, who come from the northern lands beyond the distant seas. What seek ye here in this foul place, where all things that are good live but to die, and where only evil prospers, and the arch-fiend himself bears rule? What seek ye here with Muzi Zimba the old? and ye black ones, are ye tired of life, and of that freedom which alone makes life worth living, that ye venture your heads inside the lion’s mouth? Go I go, all of ye, white and black. Go! in God’s name, while the life is yet whole in ye. Why tarry ye here? Escape for your lives, my sons, and peace go with ye.”Our friends had been closely watching the individual who delivered this strange yet forcible appeal, and looks of commiseration passed from one to the other. The man was as white-skinned as themselves, and judging from the purity of his English must have been at one time a British subject. He was, however, extremely old, probably eighty-five or ninety, and his face, which was benign and gentle, was shrouded by his long, silvery locks, and muffled, as it were, in an immense snow-white beard, which reached down to his very waist, and gave him an altogether venerable and striking appearance; his voice was strong and resonant, his manner quiet and peaceful,but the man was obviously mad. He had evidently become so accustomed to the native metaphor that he had unconsciously adopted it as his own language, and his diction at best halted somewhat, as if he were unused, indeed, to exercising his tongue in framing speech of any kind.Whilst Kenyon hesitated what to do, Leigh went frankly forward and held but his hand to the old fellow, who shook it heartily; then, humouring him, Leigh spoke, and as the full, rich voice struck upon his ear, the old man bent his head and seemed as if the familiar accents had brought back to him some signs or memories of the long-forgotten past.“Greeting, my father, greeting,” answered Leigh. “Thy sons have wandered hither on a long and very weary path, seeking for a lost one who left them many moons ago. In face he was even as I am, and in form was somewhat less, and spoke to his people with an English tongue. Tell me, hast thou seen such an one, my father?”The old man gazed steadily at Leigh for some moments, then, changing his wrapt manner, he spoke sadly, “My son, I have, indeed, met with him, and thy living image he was; but never, alas! wilt thou see him in the flesh, for to-day he dies—ay! dies a dog’s death, and does it for his faith, like a gallant Christian man.”“Dies?” thundered Leigh; “he shall not die, he must not die—oh! Dick, Dick, have I come right across the world to arrive one day too late?”Eagerly the pair tried to question the old man, but he at once grew confused and his weak mind evidently failed to realise their anxiety or to grasp the drift of their questions, and at last he turned upon them with quiet dignity. “Leave me now, my sons,” he said, “for I go to offer prayers for him who dies when yonder sun reaches the zenith. Return whence ye came, so shall ye live and not die—go, and God go with ye—farewell!” and this strange individual moved slowly away down the cavern and disappeared in the inner gloom.Hastily directing their men to lie hidden in the cave until their return, Leigh and Kenyon armed themselves to the teeth, and quickly slipping down the rocky path, were soon speeding across the open, and directing their hurried steps towards the forest.Each was equipped with a repeating-rifle, four Smith and Wesson’s revolver-pistols, and as much ammunition as he could well carry, so that the pace, in spite of the best endeavours of the pair, was somewhat slow, and when, after two hours of continued effort, they entered the belt of wood, both judged it expedient to sit down and eat some food whilst enjoying a short rest. Soon, however, getting on their legs again, our friends struck into a forest path, which they followed as fast as they could travel, instinct, or else the promptings of despair leading them in the right direction.For another hour the pair ascended gradually through the forest, the path leading steadily upwards, and ultimately terminating in a sharp climb; but, just as they were about to negotiate this piece of wooded rock, they heard a burst of music (sic) evidently proceeding from tom-toms, horns, and other instruments of abomination, dear to the heart of the aboriginal African.Cautiously ascending the rock, our friends concealed themselves in a bush, and then a curious sight met their eyes. Some thirty feet below them lay a sort of hollow in the mountains, which looked as if it had at one time formed the base of a vast quarry, being perhaps a thousand yards across its widest part, and shaped somewhat in the form of a horseshoe, but now carpeted everywhere with short, smooth turf. At the farther side of this mighty enclosure was a narrow gap or pass in the mountains, which clearly gave access to the spot, and through this striking natural gateway some thousands of ebony-skinned Africans were now pouring, accompanying their march with all sorts of horrible and ear-splitting native music.Quickly the black fellows filed in, to the number of, probably, three thousand, and squatted themselves down on the rocks, which, as on the side occupied by Leigh and his comrade, formed a solid barrier some thirty feet high round the ring of level turf.Following upon the heels of this riff-raff appeared a mixed mob of some three to four hundred white men and women, escorting a native who was evidently a King, or, at least, a “Big Chief,” judging from the attentions they lavished upon him, and from his striking “get up.” This last consisted of a stove-pipe hat, a scarlet coat adorned with gold braid, and a pair of bright yellow stockings of unusual length, reaching well up the thigh; round his waist was buckled an enormously long cavalry sword, which trailed upon the ground as he walked, and in his hand he carried a “gun” considerably taller than himself; it was, in fact, one of those fearfully and wonderfully made specimens of the genus gas-pipe with which England and Germany delight to arm the whole of Africa at about eight shillings per head.“Solomon in all his glory, by Jove,” whispered Leigh to the observant and attentive Kenyon. All disposition to laugh was, however, quickly stifled by the appearance of a man carrying a flag, which was promptly planted in the very centre of the open space, and welcomed by the assembled thousands with a positive frenzy of enthusiasm, but was greeted by Leigh with a groan of horror and dismay, for upon a dead black ground it bore a white circle, and in the centre of this ring were three horrible basilisk-looking eyes.Kenyon on his part whistled quietly. “So!” he said, “Zero and the Mormon Trinity—birds of a feather, by all that’s holy! Well, we must watch and wait, and somehow I don’t think our patience will be tried for very much longer.”Just then a hammock was borne in, and from this there alighted a white woman, a Spaniard or an Italian by her looks; this female being instantly accommodated with a seat, and approached with much deference by the white men in the crowd.Leigh thought he had never seen a more wicked, yet withal a more handsome, face. Her complexion was beautifully clear, her hair black and glossy as the raven’s wing, and her figure simply superb; but the eyes looked like coals of living fire, and the mouth, as Kenyon—who was busy sketching her in his notebook—remarked, was more like a spring rat-trap than anything else.A wait of half an hour next ensued, during which the native band discoursed sweet (?) music, and then there went up a mighty shout from the motley throng which thickly lined the farther side of the great enclosure, as a small crowd of men, white and black, were driven in at the spear’s point; all had their hands tied behind them, but had their legs left perfectly free to enable them to run at will, the slavers knowing well, that deprived as the captives were of the use of their hands and arms, they could not escape by climbing up the rocks.A moment later the friends, to their utter horror, beheld a barrier lifted, and through the opening thus made there immediately charged a colossal-looking bull-elephant. For a full minute the great brute gazed wickedly about him, as if debating the possibility of getting at the block fellows who were rapidly angering him with their infernal tom-toms; next he trumpeted until the welkin rang again, and then all of a sudden threw up his trunk, and hurled his vast bulk blindly at the wretched band of captives, who fled incontinently in every direction, whilst the air resounded with yells of laughter from the spectators, black and white, across the wide enclosure. These wretches were evidently enjoying to the full this intensely Roman spectacle, and Leigh felt his blood boil at the thought that the lives of human beings—white men, moreover—were to be deliberately sacrificed in this truly diabolical manner to provide an hour’s amusement for an ignorant savage and his greasy, yelping retinue of semi-monkeyfied followers. By and by, however, a great black man fleeted—with the speed of light—past the rock where our friends lay hid, the enraged elephant following close upon his heels; and brief though the glimpse was, in an instant Leigh knew his man, and blew a peculiar little reed whistle which Kenyon had often noticed attached to his friend’s watch-chain.Once! twice! thrice! he sounded the signal, and then, lo! and behold, every captive on the ground, both white and black, was seen to turn short in his tracks and speed madly across the wide stretch of open, in a wild endeavour to reach the distant rock; close behind the crowd thundered the giant mammal, screaming with rage, and gaining upon the luckless wights at every step, the tip of his snake-like trunk almost seeming to touch the hindmost runner. It was an altogether extraordinary, yet at the same time a very dreadful, sight; and as Leigh’s rifle leaped to his shoulder, he seemed, by one of those curious tricks which fancy sometimes plays us, to see the Colosseum spread out before him, its benches packed to suffocation with the pleasure-seekers of an ancient Roman holiday, and its arena peopled by the noble martyrs falling beneath the claws of Nero’s ravening beasts.History ever repeats itself, and at this very instant, whilst the easy-going people of the nineteenth Christian century were sitting quietly in their peaceful homes, thanking God that such acts and deeds were for ever at an end, here was the horrid self-same spectacle being re-enacted in darkest Africa, without any of the added refinements of modern cruelty, upon the living bodies of their own fellow-men, both white and black.Thought, however, is swift, and Leigh’s thought delayed him never an instant, and even as he pressed the trigger and saw the deadly bullet go homo, and the mighty elephant pitch forward upon his knees, he sprang upright upon the ledge of rock, to show the captives where their friends lay hid; then, as his rifle thundered out again, backed up by the echo of Kenyon’s heavy piece, and the discomfited elephant wallowed on the ground with three shell bullets in his ugly carcass, Leigh was conscious that Kenyon was slipping down the rock, and quickly following his friend, both were in an instant busy with their hunting-knives upon the thongs which held the prisoners, who, twenty-five in number, six white and the rest black, were all at liberty and eagerly scrambling up the rock before the mixed assemblage beyond the great enclosure had thoroughly realised what was going on, less than a thousand yards away, under cover of the smoke and the rapid discharges of strange rifles.Just as a crowd of white men came streaming across the ground, and as Leigh was about to raise his rifle with the view of checking their advance, a voice behind him said, “Give me a turn at that, Alf; I long to get even with yonder blasphemous slaving hound. He tarred and feathered me one day.”Leigh knew the voice, and turning quickly, confronted his long-lost Cousin Dick. One warm hand-grasp was all, then the tears started to his eyes, as he relinquished his gun and strode away.Dick Grenville! But alas! how changed—feeble, emaciated, and hollow-eyed, covered with filth, and clad in the skin of a leopard. Leigh had actually taken his own cousin for a very ordinary-looking black man, but the old spirit, unbroken by Mormons or slavers, was still there—the eye as true, and the hand firm as a grip of steel. Springing forward, he shook the weapon over his head, and his voice went ringing across the rock-bound stretch of veldt, as he called to the leader of the advancing crowd, “Crewdson Walworth, I promised you this a year ago, and here it is—a Grenville ever keeps his word.” The rifle vomited its deadly contents, and the man, who was none other than Kenyon’s quondam acquaintance, the “Swell” of Durban, went down, with a bullet through his heart, and pitched head over heels like a shot rabbit.Kenyon coolly followed up the shot, and the repeaters fairly opened a lane in the approaching crowd, who fired wildly into the bush without doing any serious damage, and in another moment, to the number of about twenty, were busy scrambling up the rock, whilst Leigh, Grenville and Kenyon emptied rifle and revolver into their ranks at point-blank range. Suddenly Leigh heard another well-remembered voice. “Let my father,” it said, “give Amaxosa a little space, that the child of the Undi may revenge himself, and slay these evil-minded men;” and moving to one side, Leigh saw his oft-tried comrade-in-arms, the proud young Zulu chief, walk coolly to the very verge of the platform, with a mighty mass of rock poised in his powerful arms. For one brief instant he stood thus, while his keen eye played over the hated forms of his late masters; then with a wild, earth-shaking shout he plunged the enormous missile right into the midst of the enemy where they were most closely massed together, bearing them backwards to the ground a bleeding, senseless pulp of human flesh and bones.The revolvers quickly accounted for the few men who were left alive, and a minute later the re-united cousins, led by Kenyon, and followed by their triumphant “Impi,” were descending the rock on its outer side, and making for the friendly cover of the forest, their only loss being one Zulu, who was shot through the body, and whom necessity compelled them to leave behind at the point of dissolution.A hasty consultation ensued when the whole party had reached the forest, and both Leigh and Kenyon heard, with unmixed satisfaction, that the enemy would be under the necessity of following directly upon their trail, there being absolutely no path by which he could get round or cut off the retreat of the fugitives. Grenville also added that his friends had come in a fortunate hour, for had Zero himself been present, or had Crewdson Walworth not fallen so early in the fray, all would have had their work cut out to get away from the enclosure with whole skins. So weak were the late captives, that travelling was of necessity very slow indeed, or at least it seemed so to men fleeing with the knowledge that re-capture meant prompt and certain death.Owing to the villainous treatment he had received, poor Grenville was in a pitiable state, but after a twenty minutes’ rest, during which his cousin fed him with biscuits steeped in brandy, he made another effort, and Kenyon having speeded on ahead, and chased down their bearers with a hammock, the party soon had Grenville safely and comfortably housed in their temporary lodging on the mountain side.Here the rescued one assured them that the whole band might safely lie hidden for a day or two during Zero’s absence, as both white and black slavers held the spot in superstitious veneration on account of the presence of the old hermit—for some such thing Grenville declared their mad friend of the morning to be. Half priest he was, half doctor, and partly recluse. Grenville knew naught of him beyond the fact that he had occupied his present location, and been looked up to by the natives as a species of god, long years before ever Zero and his following of scoundrels overran the country side. For his simple necessities he received weekly supplies at the hands of the surrounding negro chiefs, who held him to be the greatest fetish in the land, and believed that he could kill or cure them, ruin their crops, or give them rain and fruitful seasons at his will; not that he, poor old man, had ever attempted to inoculate them with any such belief, having, on the contrary, always treated them as kindly as if they were his own children. To Grenville he had been extremely good, and had seemed much impressed with him, because our friend hod once again refused to buy his life at the prohibitive price of an introduction into the Mormon brotherhood.Kenyon had tried to give Grenville in few words the history of his cousin’s bereavement, fearing that a natural, yet abrupt, inquiry after Lady Drelincourt would greatly distress poor Leigh. The detective found, however, to his astonishment, that Grenville was in possession of full particulars of the cowardly double murder, Zero having boasted to him of the commission of the deed as a meritorious action, performed in revenge for the doings of their own party in East Utah. The slaver-chieftain had, it appeared, possessed himself of the persons of Grenville and of Amaxosa and some thirty of his warriors, by a skilfully-executed night attack, in which he was supported by upwards of three hundred armed whites and a horde of natives.The story of the captives after this date was written in letters of torture and of blood, and when his cousin, to try him, asked Grenville how soon he would be in condition to turn his face homewards, the old spirit blazed out once more, as he vowed by all he held sacred that he would never leave the locality until Zero and his villainous following were completely wiped out and stamped flat, even did he know that his own life would in consequence be forfeited.Needless to say, both Leigh and Kenyon heard these determined expressions with undisguised satisfaction, for these two had already come secretly to a like unanimous decision, and being now assisted by Grenville, with his perfect local knowledge, and backed by several white men, in addition to the redoubtable Amaxosa and a score of his picked warriors, who only required a few days of rest and good food to fit them for anything at all in the fighting line, both men felt much more sanguine of accomplishing the end they had in view, and of meting out stern retributive justice to the villainous slavers, and the double-dyed murderer who acted as their chief.Asked to relate how he had executed the hieroglyphic upon the face of the rock within the kloof, Grenville explained that he had been bound at the “tail-end” of a line of half-a-dozen Zulus, and thrown upon the ground at the very edge of the cliff, whilst the slavers were bringing up the rest of their wretched captives by moonlight, and getting a sharp stone in his fettered hands, he had hung, head-downwards, suspended over the gulf in perfect safety, knowing that the weight of the men above would be a sheet-anchor for him. To Grenville’s dismay, however, he found, when his work was done, that he could not regain his position on the rock, and just as he was losing consciousness with the rush of blood to his head, he was rescued by the slavers, who flogged him soundly for what they took to be a deliberate attempt to rob them of his valued person by the committal of cold-blooded suicide.Cautious as ever, Grenville could not be persuaded to rest or sleep until he had seen Leigh and Amaxosa on guard, and had warned Kenyon to relieve the Zulu chief in two or three hours, as the poor fellow had had, he said, an uncommonly rough time of it lately, and the diabolical and senseless ill-usage to which he had been subjected, must have told its tale upon even his iron constitution.The rest of the white men and Zulus, all of whom Leigh had been able to arm out of his ample stores of weapons, were already sleeping such a sleep as they had not enjoyed for a full year. To Grenville’s delight, he found that his cousin had got a spare Winchester rifle for him, and with this and a pair of his favourite revolvers, he felt fit and ready for anything once again.
For quite a quarter of a mile our friends found that the road provided very rough travelling indeed. This was the more annoying, as the moon was fast going down, and it was a matter of vital importance that the little band should progress quickly and secure a strong position before daylight revealed their movements to the enemy.
Their only difficulty would be with regard to water, as the party had an abundant supply of stores and ammunition; for, having, of course, no idea as to how long the expedition might be detained in the Interior, Leigh had provisioned it most lavishly, and as game had hitherto been plentiful, the stores had been very lightly dealt with.
In an hour’s time all had, as they thought, reached level ground, for the road, after the first half-mile had been negotiated, proved fairly good, and finding a lofty cavern in the rock, Kenyon drew his whole party into it, cast anchor, and wished for the day.
The darkness had now become positively opaque, for the moon had entirely disappeared behind the mountains, and a film of mist seemed everywhere to hang over the lower lands, and had their enemies been absolutely within arm’s length, our friends would have been utterly unable to distinguish them.
Soon, however, the “darkest hour” was over, and the eastern mountains became dimly outlined through the gauze-like curtain of mist, as the glad light of another brilliant day came speeding in upon the wings of the morning, heralding the advent of the sun himself with all the attendant splendour of an equatorial African day.
Our friends at once perceived that, so far from having reached the level of the country, they were at present posted on a ridgy platform upon the mountain side, whilst far below them, the land which lay considerably lower than that on the other side of the kloof, was stretched out before them in wonderfully beautiful panorama.
On one hand a limpid stream glided peacefully along its course, making dreamland music in the sunshine, and watering mile after mile of verdant pasture land, which was dotted hero and there with moving herds of game, whilst on the other was a mighty belt of giant forest trees, backed to the eastward by the everlasting mountains, which appeared absolutely to ring-in the country in that direction, though towards the west, as far as the eye could reach, only grass land could be seen, the rolling veldt sweeping clear away to the skyline unrelieved by even a single clump of trees or bush, and broken only here and there by the silvery tracery of tiny streamlets; whilst to the south, blue in the far distance and faintly relieved against the azure setting of the sky, could be traced the dim outline of a giant mountain-peak, probably fifteen thousand feet in height, its snow-capped crest flashing back in many-coloured radiance each glorious spear of light cast by the rising sun.
Kenyon and Leigh were about to give the word to their men (all of whom were busily gazing at the inviting prospect before them) to get under weigh, when both were fairly electrified by hearing a voice raised in the cavern just behind them.
“Greeting!” it said; “greeting to ye strangers.” Then as our friends turned quickly round, and their white personality became evident to the speaker, “Greeting, white strangers, who come from the northern lands beyond the distant seas. What seek ye here in this foul place, where all things that are good live but to die, and where only evil prospers, and the arch-fiend himself bears rule? What seek ye here with Muzi Zimba the old? and ye black ones, are ye tired of life, and of that freedom which alone makes life worth living, that ye venture your heads inside the lion’s mouth? Go I go, all of ye, white and black. Go! in God’s name, while the life is yet whole in ye. Why tarry ye here? Escape for your lives, my sons, and peace go with ye.”
Our friends had been closely watching the individual who delivered this strange yet forcible appeal, and looks of commiseration passed from one to the other. The man was as white-skinned as themselves, and judging from the purity of his English must have been at one time a British subject. He was, however, extremely old, probably eighty-five or ninety, and his face, which was benign and gentle, was shrouded by his long, silvery locks, and muffled, as it were, in an immense snow-white beard, which reached down to his very waist, and gave him an altogether venerable and striking appearance; his voice was strong and resonant, his manner quiet and peaceful,but the man was obviously mad. He had evidently become so accustomed to the native metaphor that he had unconsciously adopted it as his own language, and his diction at best halted somewhat, as if he were unused, indeed, to exercising his tongue in framing speech of any kind.
Whilst Kenyon hesitated what to do, Leigh went frankly forward and held but his hand to the old fellow, who shook it heartily; then, humouring him, Leigh spoke, and as the full, rich voice struck upon his ear, the old man bent his head and seemed as if the familiar accents had brought back to him some signs or memories of the long-forgotten past.
“Greeting, my father, greeting,” answered Leigh. “Thy sons have wandered hither on a long and very weary path, seeking for a lost one who left them many moons ago. In face he was even as I am, and in form was somewhat less, and spoke to his people with an English tongue. Tell me, hast thou seen such an one, my father?”
The old man gazed steadily at Leigh for some moments, then, changing his wrapt manner, he spoke sadly, “My son, I have, indeed, met with him, and thy living image he was; but never, alas! wilt thou see him in the flesh, for to-day he dies—ay! dies a dog’s death, and does it for his faith, like a gallant Christian man.”
“Dies?” thundered Leigh; “he shall not die, he must not die—oh! Dick, Dick, have I come right across the world to arrive one day too late?”
Eagerly the pair tried to question the old man, but he at once grew confused and his weak mind evidently failed to realise their anxiety or to grasp the drift of their questions, and at last he turned upon them with quiet dignity. “Leave me now, my sons,” he said, “for I go to offer prayers for him who dies when yonder sun reaches the zenith. Return whence ye came, so shall ye live and not die—go, and God go with ye—farewell!” and this strange individual moved slowly away down the cavern and disappeared in the inner gloom.
Hastily directing their men to lie hidden in the cave until their return, Leigh and Kenyon armed themselves to the teeth, and quickly slipping down the rocky path, were soon speeding across the open, and directing their hurried steps towards the forest.
Each was equipped with a repeating-rifle, four Smith and Wesson’s revolver-pistols, and as much ammunition as he could well carry, so that the pace, in spite of the best endeavours of the pair, was somewhat slow, and when, after two hours of continued effort, they entered the belt of wood, both judged it expedient to sit down and eat some food whilst enjoying a short rest. Soon, however, getting on their legs again, our friends struck into a forest path, which they followed as fast as they could travel, instinct, or else the promptings of despair leading them in the right direction.
For another hour the pair ascended gradually through the forest, the path leading steadily upwards, and ultimately terminating in a sharp climb; but, just as they were about to negotiate this piece of wooded rock, they heard a burst of music (sic) evidently proceeding from tom-toms, horns, and other instruments of abomination, dear to the heart of the aboriginal African.
Cautiously ascending the rock, our friends concealed themselves in a bush, and then a curious sight met their eyes. Some thirty feet below them lay a sort of hollow in the mountains, which looked as if it had at one time formed the base of a vast quarry, being perhaps a thousand yards across its widest part, and shaped somewhat in the form of a horseshoe, but now carpeted everywhere with short, smooth turf. At the farther side of this mighty enclosure was a narrow gap or pass in the mountains, which clearly gave access to the spot, and through this striking natural gateway some thousands of ebony-skinned Africans were now pouring, accompanying their march with all sorts of horrible and ear-splitting native music.
Quickly the black fellows filed in, to the number of, probably, three thousand, and squatted themselves down on the rocks, which, as on the side occupied by Leigh and his comrade, formed a solid barrier some thirty feet high round the ring of level turf.
Following upon the heels of this riff-raff appeared a mixed mob of some three to four hundred white men and women, escorting a native who was evidently a King, or, at least, a “Big Chief,” judging from the attentions they lavished upon him, and from his striking “get up.” This last consisted of a stove-pipe hat, a scarlet coat adorned with gold braid, and a pair of bright yellow stockings of unusual length, reaching well up the thigh; round his waist was buckled an enormously long cavalry sword, which trailed upon the ground as he walked, and in his hand he carried a “gun” considerably taller than himself; it was, in fact, one of those fearfully and wonderfully made specimens of the genus gas-pipe with which England and Germany delight to arm the whole of Africa at about eight shillings per head.
“Solomon in all his glory, by Jove,” whispered Leigh to the observant and attentive Kenyon. All disposition to laugh was, however, quickly stifled by the appearance of a man carrying a flag, which was promptly planted in the very centre of the open space, and welcomed by the assembled thousands with a positive frenzy of enthusiasm, but was greeted by Leigh with a groan of horror and dismay, for upon a dead black ground it bore a white circle, and in the centre of this ring were three horrible basilisk-looking eyes.
Kenyon on his part whistled quietly. “So!” he said, “Zero and the Mormon Trinity—birds of a feather, by all that’s holy! Well, we must watch and wait, and somehow I don’t think our patience will be tried for very much longer.”
Just then a hammock was borne in, and from this there alighted a white woman, a Spaniard or an Italian by her looks; this female being instantly accommodated with a seat, and approached with much deference by the white men in the crowd.
Leigh thought he had never seen a more wicked, yet withal a more handsome, face. Her complexion was beautifully clear, her hair black and glossy as the raven’s wing, and her figure simply superb; but the eyes looked like coals of living fire, and the mouth, as Kenyon—who was busy sketching her in his notebook—remarked, was more like a spring rat-trap than anything else.
A wait of half an hour next ensued, during which the native band discoursed sweet (?) music, and then there went up a mighty shout from the motley throng which thickly lined the farther side of the great enclosure, as a small crowd of men, white and black, were driven in at the spear’s point; all had their hands tied behind them, but had their legs left perfectly free to enable them to run at will, the slavers knowing well, that deprived as the captives were of the use of their hands and arms, they could not escape by climbing up the rocks.
A moment later the friends, to their utter horror, beheld a barrier lifted, and through the opening thus made there immediately charged a colossal-looking bull-elephant. For a full minute the great brute gazed wickedly about him, as if debating the possibility of getting at the block fellows who were rapidly angering him with their infernal tom-toms; next he trumpeted until the welkin rang again, and then all of a sudden threw up his trunk, and hurled his vast bulk blindly at the wretched band of captives, who fled incontinently in every direction, whilst the air resounded with yells of laughter from the spectators, black and white, across the wide enclosure. These wretches were evidently enjoying to the full this intensely Roman spectacle, and Leigh felt his blood boil at the thought that the lives of human beings—white men, moreover—were to be deliberately sacrificed in this truly diabolical manner to provide an hour’s amusement for an ignorant savage and his greasy, yelping retinue of semi-monkeyfied followers. By and by, however, a great black man fleeted—with the speed of light—past the rock where our friends lay hid, the enraged elephant following close upon his heels; and brief though the glimpse was, in an instant Leigh knew his man, and blew a peculiar little reed whistle which Kenyon had often noticed attached to his friend’s watch-chain.
Once! twice! thrice! he sounded the signal, and then, lo! and behold, every captive on the ground, both white and black, was seen to turn short in his tracks and speed madly across the wide stretch of open, in a wild endeavour to reach the distant rock; close behind the crowd thundered the giant mammal, screaming with rage, and gaining upon the luckless wights at every step, the tip of his snake-like trunk almost seeming to touch the hindmost runner. It was an altogether extraordinary, yet at the same time a very dreadful, sight; and as Leigh’s rifle leaped to his shoulder, he seemed, by one of those curious tricks which fancy sometimes plays us, to see the Colosseum spread out before him, its benches packed to suffocation with the pleasure-seekers of an ancient Roman holiday, and its arena peopled by the noble martyrs falling beneath the claws of Nero’s ravening beasts.
History ever repeats itself, and at this very instant, whilst the easy-going people of the nineteenth Christian century were sitting quietly in their peaceful homes, thanking God that such acts and deeds were for ever at an end, here was the horrid self-same spectacle being re-enacted in darkest Africa, without any of the added refinements of modern cruelty, upon the living bodies of their own fellow-men, both white and black.
Thought, however, is swift, and Leigh’s thought delayed him never an instant, and even as he pressed the trigger and saw the deadly bullet go homo, and the mighty elephant pitch forward upon his knees, he sprang upright upon the ledge of rock, to show the captives where their friends lay hid; then, as his rifle thundered out again, backed up by the echo of Kenyon’s heavy piece, and the discomfited elephant wallowed on the ground with three shell bullets in his ugly carcass, Leigh was conscious that Kenyon was slipping down the rock, and quickly following his friend, both were in an instant busy with their hunting-knives upon the thongs which held the prisoners, who, twenty-five in number, six white and the rest black, were all at liberty and eagerly scrambling up the rock before the mixed assemblage beyond the great enclosure had thoroughly realised what was going on, less than a thousand yards away, under cover of the smoke and the rapid discharges of strange rifles.
Just as a crowd of white men came streaming across the ground, and as Leigh was about to raise his rifle with the view of checking their advance, a voice behind him said, “Give me a turn at that, Alf; I long to get even with yonder blasphemous slaving hound. He tarred and feathered me one day.”
Leigh knew the voice, and turning quickly, confronted his long-lost Cousin Dick. One warm hand-grasp was all, then the tears started to his eyes, as he relinquished his gun and strode away.
Dick Grenville! But alas! how changed—feeble, emaciated, and hollow-eyed, covered with filth, and clad in the skin of a leopard. Leigh had actually taken his own cousin for a very ordinary-looking black man, but the old spirit, unbroken by Mormons or slavers, was still there—the eye as true, and the hand firm as a grip of steel. Springing forward, he shook the weapon over his head, and his voice went ringing across the rock-bound stretch of veldt, as he called to the leader of the advancing crowd, “Crewdson Walworth, I promised you this a year ago, and here it is—a Grenville ever keeps his word.” The rifle vomited its deadly contents, and the man, who was none other than Kenyon’s quondam acquaintance, the “Swell” of Durban, went down, with a bullet through his heart, and pitched head over heels like a shot rabbit.
Kenyon coolly followed up the shot, and the repeaters fairly opened a lane in the approaching crowd, who fired wildly into the bush without doing any serious damage, and in another moment, to the number of about twenty, were busy scrambling up the rock, whilst Leigh, Grenville and Kenyon emptied rifle and revolver into their ranks at point-blank range. Suddenly Leigh heard another well-remembered voice. “Let my father,” it said, “give Amaxosa a little space, that the child of the Undi may revenge himself, and slay these evil-minded men;” and moving to one side, Leigh saw his oft-tried comrade-in-arms, the proud young Zulu chief, walk coolly to the very verge of the platform, with a mighty mass of rock poised in his powerful arms. For one brief instant he stood thus, while his keen eye played over the hated forms of his late masters; then with a wild, earth-shaking shout he plunged the enormous missile right into the midst of the enemy where they were most closely massed together, bearing them backwards to the ground a bleeding, senseless pulp of human flesh and bones.
The revolvers quickly accounted for the few men who were left alive, and a minute later the re-united cousins, led by Kenyon, and followed by their triumphant “Impi,” were descending the rock on its outer side, and making for the friendly cover of the forest, their only loss being one Zulu, who was shot through the body, and whom necessity compelled them to leave behind at the point of dissolution.
A hasty consultation ensued when the whole party had reached the forest, and both Leigh and Kenyon heard, with unmixed satisfaction, that the enemy would be under the necessity of following directly upon their trail, there being absolutely no path by which he could get round or cut off the retreat of the fugitives. Grenville also added that his friends had come in a fortunate hour, for had Zero himself been present, or had Crewdson Walworth not fallen so early in the fray, all would have had their work cut out to get away from the enclosure with whole skins. So weak were the late captives, that travelling was of necessity very slow indeed, or at least it seemed so to men fleeing with the knowledge that re-capture meant prompt and certain death.
Owing to the villainous treatment he had received, poor Grenville was in a pitiable state, but after a twenty minutes’ rest, during which his cousin fed him with biscuits steeped in brandy, he made another effort, and Kenyon having speeded on ahead, and chased down their bearers with a hammock, the party soon had Grenville safely and comfortably housed in their temporary lodging on the mountain side.
Here the rescued one assured them that the whole band might safely lie hidden for a day or two during Zero’s absence, as both white and black slavers held the spot in superstitious veneration on account of the presence of the old hermit—for some such thing Grenville declared their mad friend of the morning to be. Half priest he was, half doctor, and partly recluse. Grenville knew naught of him beyond the fact that he had occupied his present location, and been looked up to by the natives as a species of god, long years before ever Zero and his following of scoundrels overran the country side. For his simple necessities he received weekly supplies at the hands of the surrounding negro chiefs, who held him to be the greatest fetish in the land, and believed that he could kill or cure them, ruin their crops, or give them rain and fruitful seasons at his will; not that he, poor old man, had ever attempted to inoculate them with any such belief, having, on the contrary, always treated them as kindly as if they were his own children. To Grenville he had been extremely good, and had seemed much impressed with him, because our friend hod once again refused to buy his life at the prohibitive price of an introduction into the Mormon brotherhood.
Kenyon had tried to give Grenville in few words the history of his cousin’s bereavement, fearing that a natural, yet abrupt, inquiry after Lady Drelincourt would greatly distress poor Leigh. The detective found, however, to his astonishment, that Grenville was in possession of full particulars of the cowardly double murder, Zero having boasted to him of the commission of the deed as a meritorious action, performed in revenge for the doings of their own party in East Utah. The slaver-chieftain had, it appeared, possessed himself of the persons of Grenville and of Amaxosa and some thirty of his warriors, by a skilfully-executed night attack, in which he was supported by upwards of three hundred armed whites and a horde of natives.
The story of the captives after this date was written in letters of torture and of blood, and when his cousin, to try him, asked Grenville how soon he would be in condition to turn his face homewards, the old spirit blazed out once more, as he vowed by all he held sacred that he would never leave the locality until Zero and his villainous following were completely wiped out and stamped flat, even did he know that his own life would in consequence be forfeited.
Needless to say, both Leigh and Kenyon heard these determined expressions with undisguised satisfaction, for these two had already come secretly to a like unanimous decision, and being now assisted by Grenville, with his perfect local knowledge, and backed by several white men, in addition to the redoubtable Amaxosa and a score of his picked warriors, who only required a few days of rest and good food to fit them for anything at all in the fighting line, both men felt much more sanguine of accomplishing the end they had in view, and of meting out stern retributive justice to the villainous slavers, and the double-dyed murderer who acted as their chief.
Asked to relate how he had executed the hieroglyphic upon the face of the rock within the kloof, Grenville explained that he had been bound at the “tail-end” of a line of half-a-dozen Zulus, and thrown upon the ground at the very edge of the cliff, whilst the slavers were bringing up the rest of their wretched captives by moonlight, and getting a sharp stone in his fettered hands, he had hung, head-downwards, suspended over the gulf in perfect safety, knowing that the weight of the men above would be a sheet-anchor for him. To Grenville’s dismay, however, he found, when his work was done, that he could not regain his position on the rock, and just as he was losing consciousness with the rush of blood to his head, he was rescued by the slavers, who flogged him soundly for what they took to be a deliberate attempt to rob them of his valued person by the committal of cold-blooded suicide.
Cautious as ever, Grenville could not be persuaded to rest or sleep until he had seen Leigh and Amaxosa on guard, and had warned Kenyon to relieve the Zulu chief in two or three hours, as the poor fellow had had, he said, an uncommonly rough time of it lately, and the diabolical and senseless ill-usage to which he had been subjected, must have told its tale upon even his iron constitution.
The rest of the white men and Zulus, all of whom Leigh had been able to arm out of his ample stores of weapons, were already sleeping such a sleep as they had not enjoyed for a full year. To Grenville’s delight, he found that his cousin had got a spare Winchester rifle for him, and with this and a pair of his favourite revolvers, he felt fit and ready for anything once again.