CHAPTER SEVEN.
"IN YON STRAIT PATH A THOUSAND MAY WELL BE STOPPED BY THREE."
And now, as Grenville listened intently, he could distinguish the trampof a body of armed men approaching, and with a beating heart he kneeleddown upon the bridge, projecting his rifle over the wooden parapet tosteady it; and when the Mormon band, upwards of one hundred strong, cameinto view, debouching from the trees a quarter of a mile away, he, totheir utter astonishment, challenged them in the most audacious fashion:
"Halt, or I fire!"
All the reply to this was a shout of derision, and the entire partycommenced a jog-trot over the space which intervened between the treesand the bridge.
Grenville allowed the leaders to get within about three hundred andfifty yards, then his rifle vomited its deadly contents, and twoMormons, running one behind the other, bit the dust. With an angry crythe remainder pressed forward, intent on vengeance; but again and again,to their complete astonishment and utter consternation, did the unerringmessengers from the bridge speed forth upon their fatal mission, and bythe time the crowd had arrived within a hundred yards of Grenville'sposition, seventeen men lay dead or dying upon the veldt, and he hadstill five shots left in his magazine. These were coolly but hastilydespatched, and Grenville had the fierce gratification of knowing, inthat supreme moment, that not a single cartridge had been thrownaway--_every bullet had had at least one deadly billet_. Now, however,the Mormons commenced to use their guns, and though the bridge in somedegree protected Grenville, still his head was exposed, and he couldhear the musket balls whistling past him.
So close were his opponents now that he could distinctly see theirfaces, and his keen eye instantly detected a wavering movement upontheir part; and realising that they ignorantly ascribed an unlimitednumber of shots to his strange and infernal weapon, he at once openedfire with his revolvers; and after two more men had fallen to the firstthree discharges, the attacking party broke up altogether, and simplyscrambled into cover at top speed, whilst our hero--for such we may nowfairly call him--heaved a sigh of relief, and proceeded with the utmostcare to reload his rifle.
Then followed a desultory guerilla sort of warfare, the Mormons tryingto creep into shooting range lying full length upon the grass, and thisstratagem, owing to the number of dead bodies lying about, wascomparatively easy work. Twice Grenville had narrow escapes of fallinga victim to these crouching marksmen, one shot actually grazing his leftear and drawing blood; but not one of these individuals ever got achance of a second shot, the list of killed and wounded soon totallingtwenty-five, such difference was there between old-time guns and amodern engine of warfare placed in a single pair of cool and skilfulhands.
Looking at his watch, Grenville found that his party had now had a startof just one hour; but he felt that to be on the safe side they ought tohave another thirty minutes. Moreover, he well knew that the instant hemoved from his present position to try and escape, the Mormon herdconcealed amongst the trees five hundred yards away would make aunanimous rush at him.
Presently, the situation becoming monotonous, he sallied out into theopen and began collecting the arms and ammunition of such of the deadmen as lay in closest proximity to the bridge. The Mormons fired anangry volley, without effect; and after securing half a score ofmuskets, he was about to return to the bridge, when he espied whatlooked remarkably like a keg of gunpowder lying on the grass some fiftyyards nearer to the Mormon position. Quietly walking forward, he tookpossession of this amidst a hail of bullets, all of which, however, fellwide of the mark, and "spotting" the flash of one gun he replied inkind, his shot being answered by the death-shriek, accompanied ratherthan echoed by a yell of vengeance.
Grenville carefully carried off his treasure, feeling considerablyeasier in his mind, as it was now competent for him to blow up thebridge, and thus secure his retreat; but the Mormons, who thoroughlyunderstood his intentions, instantly resumed the offensive, with theobject of keeping him otherwise fully employed.
Hastily hiding the keg of powder in the scrub on the outer side of thechasm, Grenville returned to his post, and made another determinedeffort to check the advance of the enemy, feeling that every additionalminute gained for his friends was of incalculable value.
The Mormons, however, had learned a lesson by their dearly-boughtexperience, and instead of again advancing in one compact body, nowspread out their force and endeavoured to "rush" our hero from severalpoints at one and the same time, and so spoil the accuracy of hisshooting.
Unfortunately for them Grenville was much too keen to be taken in bysuch a simple artifice, for seeing that all their varied lines ofadvance must finally converge upon his own position, he coolly withheldhis fire until a considerable number of his foes had joined forceswithin two hundred yards of the bridge, and then poured it in withfrightful effect, the heavy shell-bullets committing terrible executionat such short range.
The Mormons, however, kept on doggedly, and by the time that a score ofthem had arrived within a hundred yards of him, Grenville's rifle wasempty.
Rapidly slipping cartridges into the magazine of his Winchester, he atthe same time warily watched the advancing foe, and when one pulled upand raised his rifle, Grenville instantly dropped him.
Unfortunately, he had but had time to get in five cartridges, and whenfive men were accounted for, and the rest quietly, but in a determinedmanner, pulled up within fifty yards of him, and raised their rifles, hewas conscious of a sudden sinking of the heart.
Grenville continued, nevertheless, to ply his six-shooters, and theinstant the Mormon leader gave the word to his platoon to fire, threwhimself forward on his face with the speed of light, escaping by amiracle almost unharmed.
Springing quickly to his feet, he deliberately emptied the remainingchambers of his revolvers into the approaching Mormons at point-blankrange, as they rushed forward with their guns clubbed, and then, seizinghis own rifle by the muzzle, he swung the weapon round his head andprepared to sell his life dearly.
Though bleeding from a wound in the shoulder and one in the fleshy partof the neck, Grenville felt little the worse, as the last-named hadfortunately failed to touch the artery.
As he stood bravely waiting the onslaught of his remaining foes, ourhero was dimly conscious that the air was growing dark and very still,and that the storm clouds were creeping up again in ponderous andwicked-looking masses; but ere he had time to reflect on the probableresult of this, the Mormons flew at him like hounds on a stag at bay.Blow after blow was given and received, our hero at length getting in asweep with his weapon that drove one opponent headlong into the awfulchasm beneath, into which he fell with a horrid shriek. This blow,however, cost Grenville a nasty knock on the side of the head, and ashis enemies redoubled their violence, he felt that the end was verynear; the bridge, the sky, the veldt, were turning round and round withhim, and he realised that his spirit was indeed about to speed itseternal flight; and now, as he made one glorious final effort tomaintain his post, a glittering streak of steel whizzed past his face,and the nearest foe fell backwards, grasping in the death agony at therazor edge of the Zulu spear imbedded in his throat, whilst, almostsimultaneously, a second of the attacking party was despatched to theshades by a similar weapon from another hand, and poor Grenville'ssinking heart was cheered by the war-cry of Amaxosa and the cool voiceof his brother Myzukulwa--
"Let the Inkoos load his rifle," said the latter, "and leave these lowpeople to us."
The remaining assailants now turned tail and fairly ran for it. Toolate! As well might they seek to outstrip the wind as to escape fromthe fleet-footed Zulus, and in less than two minutes every man was onthe ground with his life-blood welling from the awful gashes inflictedby the broad-bladed spears of the savage conquerors, who stood chantinga rude note of victory.
Grenville reloaded all his weapons, and after indulging in a nip ofbrandy, felt more like himself again, though considerably knocked about,and a perfect mass of bruises upon the arms and shou
lders. Amaxosa nowapproached, and saluting him gravely and deferentially, deliveredhimself as follows:--
"The Inkoos, my father, is indeed a great and very mighty warrior. Inone short hour he has slain in fair fight more men than Amaxosa haskilled in his whole lifetime; but my father is wounded and very wearyafter so great a fight, and it is meet that he should now follow on thetrack of the Lily of the Valley and the Inkoosis to the great black rockand the spring of sweet water; and when these evil men, my old masters,the wicked witch-finders, seek to follow on the road, then it shall cometo pass that my father's faithful war-dogs, the sons of Undi, shall slaythem, and if perchance they should by force of numbers overcome thechildren of my race, then in the evening of his life will my father, thelion-hearted chief, sometime remember Myzukulwa and Amaxosa, the sons ofIsanusi, who fought and died for him on the narrow bridge which spansthe River of Death. Let my father's ears receive the words of the voiceof his son, for they are good words."
Grenville, who was deeply touched by the devotion of the Zulus, shookhands warmly with them and thanked them for their timely aid, which hadundoubtedly saved his life, but steadfastly declined to desert them orto yield the post of honour.
"Unless my rifle is here to keep the rascals out of range," he said toAmaxosa, "you would soon fall to their guns; a brave man, my friend, isno more proof against a bullet than is a coward."
"Fear not their bullets, Inkoos," was the quick reply; "thewitch-finders will shoot no more to-night, the rain will stop them."And even as the Zulu spoke, the clouds over their heads, which hadgradually grown denser and more threatening, were rent asunder by avivid flame of fire which for one brief instant revealed the wholecountryside in a dazzling, blinding glare of lurid light and thenvanished into darkness which might be felt, and which was rendered stillmore awful by the terrific peals of thunder, loud as the trump of doom,which shook the earth and appeared to rend the very vault of heavenitself; the hellish clamour being returned in varying and deafeningtones by every rugged rock and echoing glen in the mountain-range, tillthe whole craggy chaos quivered with the conflicting reverberations.
Flash succeeded flash in rapid succession, until the sultry air seemedinstinct with blazing levin brands, whilst the forked streams of arrowyfire darted hither and thither, as if impelled by the hand of a giant.
Then all of a sudden came the tropic rain. Rain! It was simply a vaststeaming sheet of vaporish water, which in one instant blotted out thelandscape, flooded the veldt, and sent the sullen sluggish River ofDeath roaring down its active course, where it enlivened the rocks withhoarse and angry murmurings, and clothed the sides of the dreadful chasmwith weird and ghostly echoes.
Grenville now suggested to his followers that it would be a goodopportunity to blow up the bridge, before the powder, which they wereprotecting to the best of their somewhat limited ability, began to getdamp; but when Amaxosa understood this wish, he replied--
"Why should my father destroy the bridge? Let him withdraw it, and keepthe witch-finders on the other side. Amaxosa thought he wished to killthem all to-night."
On being questioned, the Zulu explained that these bridges all hinged onpivots which worked on the outer side of the river; this, he said, wasto enable the Holy Three and their immediate satellites to effectuallyprevent any spying upon their movements when they undertook theirmurderous errands either inside or outside their own country.
"Good!" said Grenville; "the evil deeds of these scoundrels will recoilupon their own heads." And in a few moments more, with the help of theZulus, the bridge was open and lying flush with their own side of theriver, and Grenville and his two sable friends were stealing away withcautious steps, carefully carrying the powder and a score of Mormonguns.
Ere the party had reached the fringe of bush less than a mile away, therain ceased, as suddenly as it had come on, the moon again shed her softand beauteous radiance on mountain, veldt, and forest, sparkling inevery direction with lovely raindrops, which glistened as if all Naturewere smiling through her happy bridal tears. As the little partyentered the scrub a wild, angry shout was wafted to their ears, andacross the rolling veldt, and beyond the now protecting chasm, theMormons could be seen ranging up and down, like bloodthirsty tigersbaulked of their hard-won prey.