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Zero the Slaver: A Romance of Equatorial Africa

by Lawrence Fletcher · English · Gutenberg #32909 · 291,109 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Zero the Slaver: A Romance of Equatorial Africa

Author: Lawrence Fletcher


        
Release date: June 20, 2010 [eBook #32909]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/32909

Credits: Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZERO THE SLAVER: A ROMANCE OF EQUATORIAL AFRICA ***




Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




Zero the Slaver, by Lawrence Fletcher.

________________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________________
ZERO THE SLAVER, BY LAWRENCE FLETCHER.



CHAPTER ONE.

MISSING.

1,000 Pound Reward.

The above-named Sum will be paid to any person giving information which
will lead to the discovery of the whereabouts of a young Englishman
named Richard Grenville, who was last seen at Durban on 15th December,
1877.

Apply to Masterton and Driffield, Advocates, Port Natal.

Facing this striking announcement, and with his back to the Standard
Bank of South Africa, in Durban, stood, one morning in July, 1880, a
wiry-looking, clean-shaved man of about five- or six-and-thirty, dressed
in a rough grey homespun suit.

Man after man paused, read, marked, learned, and, no doubt, inwardly
digested, the contents of the advertisement, then passed on his way
without giving the matter a second thought--beyond, perhaps, half
wishing, in a lazy sort of way, that he knew something about this man
who seemingly was so much wanted by his own people.  But our grey-coated
friend still stood there, and appeared to be literally devouring the
announcement.

At length he turned sharply away with a muttered "Hum!  It's a big pile.
Five thousand dollars--now, I wonder if--" But here his keen eye noted
the stoppage of another person--a fashionably-dressed man--before the
advertisement, which seemed of considerable personal interest to him,
judging from the way he stared at it, and from the fact that his cigar
dropped from his lips, which mechanically opened with an involuntary
exclamation the moment the wording caught his eye.  Quickly recovering
himself, the man glanced keenly at grey-coat, who was, however,
diligently charging his pipe, and then he, too, like his predecessors,
passed on his way.

"Snakes!" muttered our friend.  "Now, I wonder who that swell is, and
why this lay startled him so infernally.  Reckon I'll have to get you
weighed up before I clear, old chap;" and, lighting his pipe, he moved
briskly away in the direction of Masterton and Driffield's office.

Arrived there, he in due course expressed to a young clerk his desire to
interview one of the principals on the subject of a considerable
interest which he proposed to acquire in certain land at Durban, and
very shortly found himself closeted with Mr Driffield.

"I have called, sir," he said, "to see you regarding this advertisement
of yours for one Richard Grenville, and to learn what further details
you can afford me beyond the information given in the announcement."

Our friend, be it observed, was something of a curiosity.  A
thorough-bred Yankee, he seldom or never indulged in "Americanisms" of
any kind except when soliloquising, which he had a singular habit of
doing whilst deducing his own peculiar theories.

"Oh!" said the lawyer, in a somewhat aggrieved tone.  "My clerk stated
that you wished to consult me with regard to the purchase of some land.
That advertisement was only printed off last night, and if we have had
one call concerning it, we have already had at least two hundred."

"I didn't choose to let your clerk know my business, or anything about
me, Mr Driffield," replied grey-coat curtly; "but here's my card, sir,
and now let me hear all you've got to say, without further loss of
time."

Mr Driffield took the pasteboard, read it, and stared blankly at the
other, who laughed quietly, and then reached out his hand, which the
lawyer grasped in most unmistakably hearty fashion.

"Why, God bless me, Kenyon," said he, "I should never have known you in
this get-up; but look here, come and dine with me to-night, and we'll go
right into this business.  You are the one man I would have chosen for
it out of all the world, and I shall be very much mistaken if I haven't
a good twelve months' work for you.  To-night, at seven, at the
Athenaeum, then.  And now `good morning,' for I'm up to the eyes in
work.  Oh! by the way, Kenyon, if you haven't read this book, do so at
once, there's a good fellow, for it contains a full account of
Grenville's South African adventures, and your perusal of it will
prepare my way, and save me going over most of the old ground again
to-night."  So saying, the lawyer dismissed his visitor, who was none
other than Stanforth Kenyon, the keenest and wiliest detective New York
could boast of--a man born to his profession, and consequently an
ornament to it.

At five-and-twenty Kenyon was an unknown, but--having regard to his
literary merit--an overpaid scribbler on one of the big New York
dailies; but now, only ten years later, he was universally admitted to
be the most unerring sleuth-hound of the whole shrewd band of secret
police owning allegiance to Uncle Sam, and whose business in South
Africa at the present time, needless to say, was known only to himself.

At once retaking his way to the hotel he had left that morning, the
detective settled down to read the book in question, ["Into the
Unknown"] and in a few hours' time had mastered its contents, and lay
quietly back in his chair, smoking, and thinking deeply.

After a further hour had been expended in this comforting and, no doubt,
edifying fashion, he took out a well-worn notebook, and wrote several
lines therein in shorthand; then, returning the book to his pocket, he
started out for a stroll, and seven o'clock saw him seated opposite to
the lawyer, and enjoying most thoroughly the excellent dinner provided
for him by that worthy gentleman.

"And now," said Mr Driffield, when the cloth was removed and both men
had lighted their cigars, "let me have your opinion of `Into the
Unknown,' or, rather, as to what extent the events narrated therein may
or may not bear upon the present disappearance of our friend Grenville."

"First," said the detective, calmly begging the question, and taking out
his notebook, "who are you working for, Mr Driffield?  I mean," he
added, quickly, "is it some relation of Grenville's who is anxious about
the missing man, or have you yourself any personal interest in the
search?"

"None at all," was the reply.  "Let me be quite frank with you, Kenyon.
I am employed by his cousin, Lord Drelincourt, who shared his adventures
amongst the Mormons, and my lord is in no end of a taking about him.
You see, the two men were like twin brothers all their lives, and now
that Lord Drelincourt has lost his wife and child, he feels alone in
life, poor fellow, and would give his whole fortune to have his cousin
by his side."

"How very sad," commented the detective.  "So he took poor Dora Winfield
homo only to bury her.  How did it all happen?"

"No one knows," said the little lawyer, dropping his voice.  "Poor Lady
Drelincourt and her one-year-old boy were found dead in bed one morning,
without even the suspicion of a mark of violence upon them.

"My lord was away from home when it happened, and the shock almost
unseated his reason, and for weeks after the sad event he was down with
brain fever.  Though quite a young man, his hair turned snowy-white when
he realised the awful extent of his cruel loss, and awoke from his long
illness only to find that his dead had long been buried out of his
sight.  Doctors and detectives were called in at the time, but
everything was in vain.  The detectives were hopelessly at fault, and
the only theory the doctors could advance was that mother and child had
been chloroformed to death.

"The servants were old family retainers, and were entirely beyond
suspicion, being all of them passionately devoted to their sweet young
mistress, and bound to their loved master as much by his personal worth
and goodness as by the unbroken ties of voluntary servitude during three
generations.

"And now, Kenyon, will you undertake the case?  The reward is already
well worth working for, great though the risks may be; but I can
undertake to _double it_ if you bring our man in alive.  You will get a
fine sporting holiday up country, with all expenses liberally provided
for, and in point of fact it is the opportunity of a lifetime--or
perhaps I ought to say that to anyone but yourself it would be such."

The detective sat thinking for awhile, and then said, "See here, Mr
Driffield; this is a large order--a very large order--and I must just
reason the matter out in my own way; but I'll let you have my answer by
or before this time to-morrow.  Your man may be only shooting in the far
interior, or camping out in this infernal secret territory of the
Mormons, or he may be--well, elsewhere."

The two then separated for the night, the lawyer going straight to the
telegraph station, and in a few minutes more the submarine cable had the
following message flashing over it:--

"To Drelincourt, London.

"Splendid man probably available; terms, two thousand and expenses.
Shall I secure him?

"Driffield."

Arrived at his hotel, the detective sought his own room, lighted his
pipe, and puzzled over his notebook for upwards of an hour, idly
drumming on the table with his fingers, and listlessly turning over the
leaves pregnant with flotsam and jetsam of criminal interest, and
glancing from time to time in a half-attentive, half-indifferent fashion
at a number of pencilled faces which adorned its earlier pages.
Suddenly, however, his attention became riveted, the man's face seemed
as if turned to stone and his whole expression transformed whilst he
gazed fixedly at one portrait as if unable to believe his eyes.

"Gods!" he cried at last, springing excitedly to his feet; "I have it!
Aha!  Master Zero, we shall meet at last, and then look out for
yourself, my friend, for if ever I entertained hatred and malice and all
uncharitableness, it is towards you, and with good cause; and, Heaven
helping me, before next year is out, I'll pay you back a little of the
debt, the fearful debt, I owe you."

Quickly he also proceeded to the cable offices, and a few minutes later
another message--this time in cypher--traversed the ocean depths, as
follows:--

"To Heliostat, New York.

"Kingdom rage offing."

Which being interpreted meant--

"To the Chief of Police, New York.

"Wire latest information Zero's movements."

Early next morning the cable company handed out two messages, first to--

"Driffield.  Port Natal.

"Secure at any cost.  Wire result."

Second to--

"Wilkinson, Alexandra Hotel, Durban.

"Noughts and crosses hades horrify handfast holy ostrich."

Meaning--

"Sailed for England 15th April, 1879; left France for Madagascar about
September same year."

Eagerly seizing his message, the detective hurriedly mastered its
contents, and with an emphatic grunt of satisfaction started off
instantly for the lawyer's office, and an hour later yet another message
was flashed across the seas--

"To Drelincourt, London.

"Secured; starts immediately."

To which Mr Driffield was considerably astonished to receive the prompt
reply--

"To Driffield, Port Natal.

"Let him wait my arrival.  Sail _Tartar_ to-morrow, bringing all needful
equipment.--Drelincourt."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

His lordship arrived in due course, and the lawyer was inexpressibly
shocked at the change which had taken place in the appearance of his
client.  The man looked twenty years older, but was nevertheless strong,
vigorous, and stern, and the detective noted with secret joy the
hard-set lines in his patron's face, and felt that here at least there
would be no faltering or shrinking, no quarter given and none required,
when the bitter end came; for bitter did this astute man-hunter already
feel certain that the end would prove to be.

The two men were fast friends in a very short time, and one of his
lordship's earliest instructions to Kenyon and the lawyer was to conceal
his identity as far as possible by addressing him simply under his
family name of Leigh, by which he had been known when a younger son,
and, in all human probability, the reverse of likely to become a peer of
the realm.

Months later, Leigh and Kenyon, with their full complement of native
bearers, bade a long farewell to the shores of the mighty lake of
Victoria Nyanza, and struck out boldly into central Africa, steering
hard and fast by the equatorial line.

Leigh, as we shall continue to call Lord Drelincourt, was naturally
curious to know why the detective, who held the compass and took all the
observations, should be so extremely particular about his latitude, but
that worthy either could or would give no explanation, and Leigh had
already acquired such implicit confidence in every action of his
self-constituted guide, that he let himself be led blindly whithersoever
the American chose to take him, feeling that the man was either working
confidently upon "information received," or that his faculty of instinct
was so finely developed that he was unlikely to make any very serious
mistakes.

As a matter of fact Leigh was right to a certain extent, for starting
with a theory of his own, which had the rooted belief of Zero's
complicity in the disappearance of Grenville for its point of departure,
the American, whilst waiting the arrival of his patron from England, had
worked up several slender clues, and had afterwards elaborated them in a
manner calculated to have made his yet far-distant foe feel the reverse
of comfortable, had he been conscious of the very tender interest taken
by an outsider in the most trifling actions performed by him during the
past, both distant and relatively near.

By careful watching, and by shadowing in a variety of inimitable
disguises, Kenyon, who was an infinitely better actor than many a man
who makes his living "on the boards," had soon unearthed, become
intimate with, and pretty well "weighed up"--to use his own expression--
the gentleman who had exhibited such unequivocal signs of dismay when
unexpectedly confronted with the advertisement concerning Grenville, and
the detective had satisfied himself that this fellow, Crewdson Walworth
by name, was a man with a history, could he but find it out--a history,
moreover, which instinct assured him would prove to be of the greatest
service to the Grenville search party at the present juncture.  More, he
also knew for a fact that his friend Crewdson corresponded in cypher
with someone at Zanzibar, but even the cunning of Stanforth Kenyon had
totally failed to ascertain who that someone was, or by what name he or
she was designated, or, indeed, to get out of Master Crewdson Walworth
anything else at all worth knowing.

The detective, however, had put two and two together, and had built up a
theory in his usual cautious fashion, and every step of the ladder,
though most rigidly and thoroughly tested, had thus far proved to be
absolutely correct, and his deductions to be altogether justified by the
course of events.



CHAPTER TWO.

A NIGHT OF HORROR.

No serious mishap befell our pair of adventurers until they neared the
Katonga River, but just here they dropped in for a streak of ill-luck,
which was like to have brought the expedition to a premature and utterly
disastrous termination.

Leaving their men in camp one morning, Leigh and Kenyon had set out to
thoroughly and carefully explore a mighty kloof, or gorge, in the
adjacent hills, expecting to complete their investigations easily in a
couple of hours or thereabouts.

As the pair entered this natural mountain fastness, however, it rapidly
developed into a deep gorge, along which trickled a stream of water so
tiny that it frequently lost itself altogether amongst the stones which
served it for a bed.

On either hand great grey barren walls shot up like precipices, whilst
mighty scarped-out rocks seemed to hang over the very heads of the
explorers, the giant walls elsewhere being thickly fringed towards the
skyline with trees and bushes, many of the former absolutely hanging
head-downwards, and appearing to maintain their precarious tenure of
existence solely by the aid of magnificent festoons of creepers, which
hung from tree to rock, and from rock to tree, these gigantic parasites
absolutely sustaining the decayed trunks of many a long-dead monarch of
the woods, which they had enfolded in their tenacious and eventually
fatal embrace; higher still the foliage upon the very summit of the
cliffs looked like narrow gleaming threads of green and gold against the
dull background of soft sandstone rock.  Within the kloof it was
unquestionably more or less dark at the best of times, but just now
darker than usual, for a vast white cloud, which the pair had noticed in
the distance when they entered the pass some hours before, had gradually
and ominously settled down, until it seemed to hang like a veritable
curtain of rich, fleecy wool directly over the chasm; and as our friends
were in the act of discussing the advisability of taking the back track
to camp, and returning to complete their investigations on the morrow,
this cloud suddenly burst over their very heads, and in one short moment
transformed their rocky road into an angry, swelling torrent of
leaden-coloured water, alive with branches, trees, and stones, and this
now rushed foaming and roaring down the awful pass, sweeping everything
before it, and threatening each instant to engulf the two wretched men,
who had saved themselves for the nonce by hanging on to a tree trunk
which was jammed cross-wise in the narrow gully of rock.

Suddenly Leigh gave a gasp, turned white as death, and relaxed his hold,
but ere the water could sweep him away he was in the iron grasp of the
American; many an enemy had known to his bitter cost what it was to feel
the clutch of the detective, but never had that grip of steel stood a
friend in so good a stead as now.

A floating log had struck Leigh violently on the side, dislocating a rib
and causing him to swoon away.  For several anxious moments it seemed to
Kenyon that one or both of them must go, but to his intense relief he
suddenly noticed that the rush of the water was becoming less swift, and
Leigh at the same time pulling round again to some extent, the twain
were soon in comparative safety from the water, which vanished almost as
rapidly as it had appeared.

By this time, however, evening was coming on, and this, in the depths
tenanted by our friends, quickly meant the darkness of Erebus, and
unpleasant though it was, they had no alternative but to sit patiently
on their friendly log and wish for daylight.  The unfortunates had not
even the consolation of a smoke, for both tobacco and matches had been
reduced to a mere pulp by the water, nor had they aught in the shape of
food or drink save a handful of unpleasantly damp peppermints owned by
the American, and a pint of good brown brandy in Leigh's flask.

Now most people will concede that under such circumstances the
consumption of the brandy was not only permissible but distinctly
advisable, though very few, perhaps, would care to tackle the
peppermints.

Not so, however, our friends, for not once nor twice had they been
indebted at a pinch entirely to these simple "sweets" for keeping body
and soul together during long days and anxious nights, when, with savage
foes following keen-eyed and red-handed on their tracks, any stoppage
for food or fire would have meant certain sudden death.

All that Kingsley has said regarding the use of the "divine weed" may be
re-written, and with much more truth, in favour of the harmless and not
more odorously objectionable peppermint.  "A lone man's companion, a
hungry man's food, a sad man's cordial, a chilly man's fire;" all this,
and more, did the despised peppermint prove to our friends that awful
night, and needless to say they appreciated their oft-tried food at its
honest value.  Under the coldest conditions it was acceptable to a
degree, and almost equally so under a blazing sun, with the thermometer
registering 80 degrees in the shade, for whilst it comforted the inside
of the body, it cooled the fevered palate by causing every breath of
burning tropic air to rush into the mouth like draughts of nectar, laden
with a welcome icy message from the far unlovely north.

Slowly the hours passed away, so slowly that the American thought his
companion would die of exposure, for he was still suffering keenly from
the blow his side had received, and never was dawn more welcome to man
than when those two miserable mortals at last saw it blushing golden
upon the trees far above them, followed by the glorious sun glinting
upon the damp metallic-looking rocks, till the whole angry chasm was
bathed in a tremulous reddening glow of lovely light and shade.

A weary way it seemed back to camp; indeed, it is doubtful in the
extreme if Leigh would ever have reached it, had the pair not been met
half-way by their anxious sable retainers, who did not in the least
degree appreciate the honour of being left in unsupported possession of
this great lone land; these men very soon had their masters under
canvas, and after a steaming cup of coffee, stowed them away inside
their blankets and left them to the undisturbed enjoyment of their
well-earned repose.

For several days Leigh was in a high fever, consequent upon the
dislocated rib, but this having been carefully put to rights by the
skilful Kenyon, he rapidly mended, and their camp being fortunately
placed in a healthy position, he was completely recovered at the end of
a few weeks, and again ready and eager to betake himself to the search
for his cousin.

With returning health, Leigh had betrayed an increased desire to extract
precise information from Kenyon as to the why and wherefore of their
present position, but all the satisfaction he could obtain from that
worthy was a laconic assurance that so far they had made no mistakes,
and that at that moment they were either very near their destination, or
else were on the tail-end of a trail which had been blinded with
consummate skill Kenyon had, he himself said, been very far from idle
during Leigh's illness, and had thoroughly exploited the district, and
taken a number of photographs in the immediate vicinity; but he had come
to the conclusion that nothing of practical utility could be
accomplished until Leigh was fit to return with him to the pass and
again take up the thread of search where they had dropped it, and he
added that if naught of Richard Grenville was written on its silent
walls, he would then be completely nonplussed.

Kenyon, as Leigh had long since learned, was no ordinary police
detective; he was a shrewd and skilful tracker, a man born and brought
up on the frontier of the Far West, and his experience had been dearly
bought in many an Indian fight and foray before he gravitated to New
York to try his hand at journalism as favoured by the New World.

A crack shot with the revolver, and no mean exponent of the beauties of
the Winchester repeater, he was at all times a man to be feared by his
foes, and to be looked up to by his friends, as a veritable tower of
strength.

Of Leigh we need say little, beyond remarking that he was in the prime
of manhood, was as strong as a bull, and had lost none of his skill with
the rifle, whilst he had derived a new, and to his enemies a doubly
dangerous energy, begotten of his loves and of his hates; to him it
seemed that, could they but find his cousin Dick, nothing would be
impossible with such heads and hearts as Grenville and Kenyon possessed,
especially if he were himself there to take a third hand at the game.



CHAPTER THREE.

"BLACK IVORY."

Having arranged to recommence their search at dawn of day, our friends
turned in to rest that night, leaving one of their Zanzibaris on guard.
This man had thus far shown himself fairly reliable, and being a very
great coward, had proved a most excellent watchman, seldom failing to
alarm the camp, at least once every night, with the fearsome news that
bloodthirsty foes, in some shape or form, were close upon them, the
attacking force, nine times out of ten, existing only in his fertile
imagination, and turning out to be either hungry and inquisitive beasts
of prey, or the grey mists of early dawn rising to greet the sun.

These constant scares had naturally had the effect of inclining everyone
in the camp to cry "Wolf!" turn over in his blanket, and, after roundly
anathematising the alarmist, to go comfortably to sleep again; but when
Kenyon was roused by this man on the night in question, a single glance
convinced him that the fellow was, at all events, in desperate earnest,
for his knees knocked together, and his face was fairly grey with the
horror of some new and unexplained phenomenon, as he stammered out his
statement to the effect that several hundred men were silently creeping
upon their position, under cover of the mist, and asserting that he
could see them sufficiently clearly to count their numbers by the
moonlight.

"Let my master," he said, "open his white eyes as clear as crystal, and
see my tongue, for there is no lie upon it."  Picking up his rifle,
Kenyon roused Leigh, the pair quickly following the watchman outside the
tent, and this was what they saw.

Slightly to their right, and entering ghost-like the suspected mountain
gorge, was a long train of human beings moving silently, yet swiftly,
westwards.

The camp was completely shrouded in mist, and altogether invisible to
these people passing it within stone's-throw, but its occupants by lying
down could see tolerably well beneath the thick grey curtain, which
overhung them in every direction, and it did not require a second glance
to satisfy the Europeans that the spectacle they were watching was
simply an African slave caravan, of unusually large dimensions, on the
march.  For some minutes the pair gazed in silence, and then with a
fierce but subdued ejaculation, Leigh endeavoured to spring to his feet,
but was held still by the iron hand of the detective.

"Down! man, down! for your life!" he whispered.  "The game is only just
beginning."

"But curse it all," growled Leigh, "don't you see that _most of the
slaves are white, and that many of them are women_?"

"I see it all," was the answer, in a stern incisive whisper, "but I see
little beyond what I expected to see when we arrived here a month ago.
Just wait a while, and if I know anything of my work, these people will
lead us to your cousin.  If we follow them to their destination, there I
am convinced shall we find Richard Grenville, if he be still in the land
of the living."

For fully half an hour did the wretched troop continue to file past, and
then captives, white and black, male and female, together with their
countless guards, were engulfed in the eerie shadows of the rocky gorge,
and entirely lost to human ken.  Not a sound had the anxious watchers
heard from first to last, and when the hindmost figure vanished from
sight, Leigh could not refrain from rubbing his eyes to see if he were
really awake and not dreaming; then, becoming satisfied that the former
was the case, he seized his rifle, turned eagerly to Kenyon, and begged
him to get on the trail of these nocturnal wanderers without another
moment's delay.

Here, again, however, Leigh's fiery impetuosity was confronted by the
stubborn coolness of the American, that worthy absolutely refusing to
make any movement for at least another hour.

"No, thank you, Leigh," he said; "if yonder poor creatures are captives
to the man who I firmly believe has them in his grip, all I say is just
look out for squalls.  You may take my word for it that before you got
your foot inside the pass you would be simply riddled with bullets.  I
dare stake my reputation that there are not less than a score of scouts
outlying all around us, and we have to thank this very substantial veil
of mist for saving our lives, for the moment, at all events.  In another
hour the entire crowd will have got some way through the gorge, and then
the scouts will draw in, and give us a chance of moving, but it would be
sheer madness on our part to stir from our present position before
dawn."

"Wherever can those blackguards possibly have laid hands on the dozens
of white men and women we saw in the caravan?" asked Leigh.

"Ah! now you are making a great mistake," replied Kenyon.  "There were
at most only half-a-dozen white men amongst the captives, and I saw but
one white woman; the rest were unfortunate creatures from one of the
native tribes south of the Great Lakes, and whose habit it is to plaster
their bodies with grey ashes.  The first glance under this misty-looking
moon deceived me, too, but I can reassure you on that score.  There
were, quite half-a-dozen white men amongst them, though, and as for the
white woman, the less said about her the better, for _she was one of the
slave-drivers_.  I think, however, Leigh, that you are missing the main
point offered to us in this affair.  Don't you see that by all the laws
of reason and common-sense this caravan should be steering due east for
the seaboard, and here we find slaves obviously imported from a distance
(for I never heard of the grey ash colouring being practised anywhere in
this latitude) _being driven due west_.  Now, if you will take your map
for what it is worth, or will question any of these frauds of ours
called `Guides,' you will find that there is no town of any kind in this
vicinity, nothing, indeed, of any note at all within hundreds of miles,
so far as is known, let alone any such thing as a slave market.
Whither, then, can this immense caravan possibly be going?

"Another point that impressed itself upon my notice was the fact that
the slave-drive was composed entirely of full-grown men and women (it
positively did not contain one single youth or child), all of which
looks as if the strongest slaves had been purposely selected for severe
labour of some kind in the interior, far or near, their ultimate
destination and precise occupation being what we have to find out."

"Give me to understand your whole theory, Kenyon, and why you connect
these people with my cousin," said Leigh.

"No!" was the curt reply.  "I have no theory; at least, I have as yet
only the very faintest suspicion of one, and the possibilities before us
are far too vast for me at present to hazard even the remotest guess at
either the final result of all this, or whither our investigations will
ultimately lead us; only I believe, nay, I am morally certain, that in
following yonder caravan--if follow it we can--we shall be treading in
the steps taken voluntarily by the remnant of the Mormons who escaped
from Grenville's vengeance in East Utah, and who were, I am equally
sure, succeeded at a later date by your cousin, and probably by many of
his Zulu friends, as part and parcel of just such a slave caravan as we
have seen to-night.  And now let us stop talking and get to work at some
food, for the light is beginning to grow, and in half-an-hour's time we
ought to be ready to move.  I have slipped two of our fellows into the
long grass with orders to keep their wits about them, but I expect the
cowards will lie so close for the sake of their own precious skins that
they will see nothing, however much there may be for them to observe."

"Ay!" said Leigh, bitterly, "I wish we had a handful of our old Zulu
allies here and we would make it very warm for the slavers; but as for
these wretched curs, they are not worth their salt, except to carry
loads, which they will throw to the deuce at the veriest shadow of
approaching danger."

As soon as the sun had fairly risen and sucked up the mist, the camp was
struck, and the entire party entered the rocky defile and proceeded to
thread its dark avenues with the utmost caution, all of which, however,
seemed totally unnecessary, as they nowhere saw the slightest sign of
life, or the remotest indication that the stony way had ever before been
trodden by the foot of man.

One thing, nevertheless, struck the Europeans as being most singular,
and this was the fact that when they had penetrated a very considerable
way through the gorge, and arrived at the spot where Leigh's unfortunate
accident had occurred, they discovered the roadway to be absolutely
closed by the fallen tree which had so staunchly stood their friend on
the occasion of their previous visit, and which was still firmly jammed
endwise across the narrow rugged path.

This obstruction was very carefully examined, but it bore no traces of
having been tampered with in any shape or form, nor was there the
slightest mark upon it which would lead even the most suspicious to
believe that the obstacle had been climbed over by either man or beast.

Kenyon at last decided that it would be best for them to mount the log
and proceed on their way, arguing that if the people they sought were
really concealed anywhere in the kloof--which certainly did not appear
to offer even sufficient cover for a fox--they must be on the watch, and
any attempt to return and investigate would be the signal for instant
destruction, whilst if their party, on the other hand, passed quietly
onwards, the slavers would probably conclude that it was composed of
explorers and was best left alone, knowing what an awkward habit England
has, during her spasms of activity, of beating up the world at large for
her missing scientific men.

This course was accordingly adopted, on the principle of choosing the
least of two evils, and before night fell, the party had left the dismal
gorge behind them, and were sitting comfortably round their camp fire,
after having taken the precaution to post two scouts near the exit of
the kloof, with instructions that, should anything suspicious occur, one
of them was instantly to come into camp with the news.  All, however,
remained perfectly quiet, and the night passed without an alarm of any
kind, even the ultra-particular night-watchman failing for once to
discover so much as the shadow of one of his customary nocturnal
horrors.

Thus did Leigh and his astute comrade for the second time miss the
secret of the place, or, as it is known amongst the scattered native
tribes, the "Black Pass of the Dark Spirit of Evil."

For hours that evening did Leigh and Kenyon discuss the question of the
mysterious disappearance of the slave caravan, for that those who
composed it had not penetrated as far as their own present position they
had quite satisfied themselves before pitching their tent for the night.

The outer, or western end of the rocky defile debouched upon highlands
of soft spongy turf, and this nowhere bore the slightest impress of a
human foot, which it would most certainly have done had anyone crossed
it recently; indeed, had the "slave-drive" passed that way, the whole
place would have been paddled like a sheep pen.

"You may well cudgel your brains, Leigh," said Kenyon, after hours of
profitless arguing on the following night, "for those fellows never left
the kloof either by this end or the other after they once entered it.
Tell me, Leigh," he continued, venturing a question, which, hardened
man-hunter that he was, had scores of times trembled upon the tip of his
tongue in the past few months, and had yet remained unasked--"tell me,
have you no clue, no idea, and absolutely no theory as to who was
responsible for the murder of your wife and child? for foully murdered I
am quite convinced they were."

Vitally important as the query was, Kenyon would have given all he
possessed could he have withdrawn the words ere they were well spoken,
for the fearful anguish depicted in the countenance of his friend gave
him, for but one second as it were, a fleeting glimpse of the agony of
soul in which this strong man lived from day-to-day, and from hour to
hour.  The misery of expression was awful, but a glance infinitely less
keen than that of the skilled detective would have noted, with a wealth
of pity, that it was a misery which had never learned to say "Thy will
be done."

For full five minutes did Leigh hide his face in his hands and give no
answering sign, and it was the detective who had once again to break the
dread silence.

"Forgive me," he said, "old friend, if I have torn the quivering wound
anew, and believe me when I say that not idle curiosity, but dire
necessity, as I conceived it, on behalf of the living, could have made
me touch upon the hallowed subject of the loved but unavenged dead."
And he rose to walk away.

Quickly Leigh raised his face, lined, as it seemed to his friend, in one
short five minutes with a whole lifetime of keenest suffering.

"Stop, Kenyon," he said hoarsely, "and excuse my want of self-control.
You are right, the loved and unforgotten dead are passed from us for a
season, peace be with them!  Now let us see what we can do to pay our
debts--an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, ay, and _blood for
blood_!  See here," and he laughed a discordant laugh, which wrung
Kenyon's very soul by the pitiful wail with which it closed, as the
strong man broke down and sobbed in a bitter agony of keen remembrance.
"See here," he said, as he again pulled himself together, and opened the
back of his watch, from which he extracted a small scrap of paper, "they
found this pinned to the coverlid of my darling's bed."

The detective reached over and took the paper, but before looking at it
he poured out, and insisted upon Leigh drinking, a stiff glass of
brandy, for he saw that his friend was completely unhinged.

This done, he turned his whole attention to the morsel of paper lying in
his hand, and this was what he saw.  Simply a small white sheet with a
circular, dead black line drawn thus upon it:--

Pinned on a dead woman's breast, what did this senseless hieroglyphic
mean?

To doctors and detectives, _nothing_!

To the bereaved and desperate husband, _nothing_!!

To Stanforth Kenyon, the wily American detective, _nothing_!!!

"_Nothing_!" gentle reader, just that, and no more.

One glance he gave--but one; then, springing to his feet, fairly
palpitating with excitement, he almost screamed, "I knew it, I knew it.
Zero!  Zero! by the Living God!" and as if it were a sombre echo of his
words, a rifle spirted its vivid jet of flame from the outer gloom
beyond the camp fire, and one of the native guides sitting just behind
Kenyon sprang into the air with a bullet through his brain, and fell to
the ground a corpse.

Instantly the whole party sought cover, but no further attempt of any
kind was made to molest them, and when morning dawned they could nowhere
find a trace of the dastard who had fired the fatal shot, and all that
remained for them to do was to bury the body of their poor, unoffending
servant, and choose out a safer camping ground where they might,
perhaps, obtain immunity from such unpleasant nocturnal visitors.

Through the livelong night the thoughts of both Leigh and Kenyon had, as
may well be imagined, been very busy; but whilst Leigh was entirely
absorbed in the one idea of avenging his murdered wife and child, the
purposes of the American went deeper.  He, too, had a righteous act of
retribution to perform, but he had also first, in the execution of his
duty, to find Grenville alive, and release him, if it could be done; and
then, again, vengeance, according to his idea, would not be consummated
by a bullet wound or a spear-thrust: he simply yearned to get his hated
enemy in his clutches, and to make him ignominiously expiate the
countless crimes of his villainous life under the hands of the public
executioner, but feared that such a triumph would be utterly
unobtainable, for, setting aside all other considerations, and glancing
at Leigh's stern, set countenance, Kenyon felt that the common enemy
would receive but short shrift so far as the Englishman was concerned if
once he fell into the power of the little band.

Clearly, however, it was little use as yet planning the cooking of a
hare which appeared much more likely to catch them than to allow the
reverse to happen, and until they knew how and where the enemy was
posted it was absolutely necessary to exercise the greatest discretion,
which, in vulgar parlance, meant "making themselves scarce," which they
accordingly did without further loss of time, giving the place leg-bail,
and putting five-and-twenty miles between themselves and the kloof ere
they again halted for the night.



CHAPTER FOUR.

THE MOUTH OF HELL.

Leigh had naturally asked Kenyon for an explanation of his wild
excitement consequent upon the production of the treasured scrap of
paper, and for information concerning the murderer whom he designated as
"Zero," and these details the American had promised to give him the
moment he was absolutely sure that the man whom he now knew to be,
without a doubt, responsible for the deaths of Lady Drelincourt and her
infant son, was identical with the slaver for whom their party was
searching.  Of this last he felt morally certain, for his deductions
had, all through, proved much too correct to turn out utterly wrong in
their final act: still it was a methodical and praiseworthy habit of
his, born of his wide experience amongst criminals of every class, to
impute nothing and to infer nothing which he could not prove up to the
very hilt, and there were, moreover, personal facts arising from the
explanation, facts of which his whole soul abhorred the revelation, and
of which nothing short of the iron hand of stern necessity would
persuade him to speak, even to Leigh.

By the camp fire that night the white men consulted long and earnestly,
whilst their sable followers crouched near them in the gloom, in abject
fear of the arrival of another unwelcome messenger from the mysterious
rifles of their unseen foes.

Not one single instant would these black fellows have remained beside
our two friends had they possessed even the ghost of a notion of where
to run to, but to their terror-stricken minds the whole vast unknown of
Central Africa, backed by their white masters, was preferable to facing
the certainty of having to retrace their undefended steps through the
Black Pass of the Dark Spirit of Evil, whose weird natural horrors were
so ably seconded by unseen, but none the less unerring, marksmen.

The conclusion that Leigh and Kenyon ultimately came to was, that they
had better coast round the slaver's supposed position in an easterly
direction, making themselves thoroughly acquainted with the general run
of the country, and keeping, meantime, their present distance from the
pass, gradually work in a semicircle until they again reached the
eastern exit of the kloof, when they would once more make a determined
and final effort to fathom the secret of the place; and in accordance
with this resolution the little band struck their tents at daybreak, and
to the delight of the natives once more turned their faces towards the
rising sun.

For a full hour the little party marched cheerfully eastwards, and then
their journeying in that direction was brought to a sudden and
unpleasant end by the two leading natives disappearing into the ground
without a moment's warning.  No power on earth could save the wretched
men, who vanished into the morass--for such it was--ere any of the party
had even time to stretch out a hand to help them.

The rest of the black fellows drew cautiously away, with their teeth
chattering, and uttered cries indicative of intense fear, and no
possible argument would induce any of them to again take the lead, so
that Kenyon and Leigh had to get in front of the party and run the
entire risk, whilst these cowards leisurely and safely followed them at
a respectful distance.

The pair exercised very great caution, and soon grew to understand the
signs of this immense swamp, which they now endeavoured to skirt in a
northerly direction, and upon the dismal edge of which they camped again
that night.

The days that followed were days of anxiety, not to say despair, for the
very ground on which they trod would often shake and quiver beneath
their tired feet, and the whole party scarce knew whether each step that
was taken might not prove to be their last; and it was only after they
had manfully struggled northwards for close upon a hundred miles that
they were once more able to plant their feet on firm ground, and to
breathe freely, with the knowledge that the treacherous swamp lay, at
last, behind them.

After expending a couple of days in a much-needed rest, an experimental
trip was made in a south-easterly direction, with the object of
ascertaining if it were possible to force the slaver's supposed position
by an advance in that quarter, but something less than three miles again
brought the party into the dreaded swamp, from which they beat a hasty
and undignified retreat.

For a whole weary day our friends marched due east, and then had the
luck to fall in with a hunting party of friendly-disposed natives, from
whom Kenyon learned that they must compass another two days' journey
towards the rising sun, ere the swamp would permit them once more to
travel southwards.

This quivering, quaking morass was known to the natives by an awful
name, the nearest English equivalent for which appeared to be "the Mouth
of Hell itself;" and a truly awful tract of country it was, and of a
certainty merited most thoroughly this infernal denomination.

These people knew nothing of any way through the marsh, and ridiculed
the very notion of such a path existing, so that it was quite clear to
our friends that many days of weary travel must elapse ere they could
regain the eastern end of the kloof which they so eagerly sought to
reach.

To add to the troubles of the little band, first Leigh and then the
whole of their bearers, one after another, succumbed to swamp fever, and
Kenyon, who entirely escaped its influence, had--as may well be
imagined--his hands full for the next ten days.  The American ascribed
his own immunity from fever, to his having choked off the malarial
microbes by almost incessant smoking, but if this view of the case were
correct, Leigh should also have been let down very lightly, whereas the
reverse obtained.

As soon as the men were sufficiently recovered to move, the whole party
dragged their fevered forms a day's journey from the edge of the marsh,
and again camping on high, firm ground, did simply nothing until they
had in some measure regained both health and vigour, after which they
more cheerfully resumed the road, and in another ten days were once
again posted in their old location near the entrance to the pass,
exercising the additional precaution, however, of walling in the camp
with a particularly spiky and impenetrable zareba of thorn-bushes, and
of placing a couple of men on guard at night.

The day following their arrival our friends decided to spend lazily in
camp enjoying a thorough rest; and it was whilst Leigh was dozing and
smoking by turns in the afternoon, that the ever active Kenyon stumbled,
by the merest chance, upon an important discovery--no less, in fact,
than the earnestly-desired key to the secret of the Black Pass.  The
matter fell out thus: Kenyon having nothing else to do, had, on the
previous night developed several photographic negatives, and was now
taking advantage of the sun to print off a number of pictures.

As each view came out of the printing frame, it was in turn examined and
passed quickly into the fixing bath; but as he was, however, about to
slip into the bath a view of the pass, he suddenly paused spell-bound,
and forgetting his unfixed picture, held it in his hands, his eyes
keenly noting every detail of the place.  The strong light, of course,
quickly turned the picture black, and with an exclamation of impatience
he resumed his cool manner, printed and fixed another positive, then
stowed away all his paraphernalia, and lighting his pipe, sat quietly
down and gave his whole attention to the photograph.

After carefully studying the picture for close upon an hour, throwing
now and again a keen glance at the gloomy-looking entrance to the kloof,
he gave a grunt of satisfaction, and put the view into Leigh's ready
hand, saying as he did so, "Well, old fellow, I have often heard the
remark that photography cannot lie, but never until now have I realised
the full force of the axiom.  To-morrow, at daybreak, thanks to my
camera, we shall enter Master Zero's mysterious territory, and then it
will be diamond cut diamond with a vengeance."

Leigh was instantly alive with excitement, and this Kenyon quickly
relieved by his explanation, which, aided as it was by the little
picture, was as simple as it was lucid.



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 road _through_ the 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, "_should_ your
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 `1 _versus_ 53,' 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 cope _en route_ with 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.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

ZERO.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER NINE.

THE WAR TRAIL.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER TEN.

"NO QUARTER."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

"THE PEOPLE OF THE STICK."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER TWELVE.

FIGHTING THE FLAMES.

For fully three days did our friends occupy themselves in the very
necessary work of perfecting the defences of their stronghold on the
mountain, and in teaching a picked dozen of the Atagbondo the use of the
rifle, with which weapon they soon became fair marksmen, in the native
acceptance of the term.

On the fourth day, however, a discovery, trifling in itself, convinced
the party that, so far from having been forgotten by Zero, they were at
present occupying the whole of his earnest attention.

The incident in question was the accidental notice taken by Kenyon of a
small bird wheeling round and round their position; closer and closer it
came, until all could see perfectly well that it was a white carrier
pigeon, bearing a message.  Finding, however, that the party did not
whistle it in, the bird grew shy, and quickly took to flight Leigh
raised his rifle with the intention of bringing it down, but Kenyon
stopped him just in time.

"Don't shoot, old fellow," he said; "I've a fancy to let that bird
severely alone.  I want to know just where it's bound for at the present
moment."

Watching very carefully, the pigeon was at last seen to enter a clump of
bush about half a mile up the mountain side, and scarcely ten minutes
later, either it, or a similar bird, left the same cover, and winged its
rapid way due north.

The inference was plain, and our friends looked blankly at one another;
but, ere they could speak, the Zulu chief had summoned Umbulanzi and
directed him to take two men, thoroughly search the suspected spot, and
put to the assegai anyone they might find lurking there.

Grenville and Kenyon would have much preferred taking the spy--if spy
there was--alive, but the fear that his presence would cause the injured
People of the Stick to overstep all restraint and become guilty of some
fearful act of barbaric cruelty, decided them to let the man fight it
out to the bitter end for his own life, rather than to permit him to
fall into the hands of a raging mob of naked savages, whose tenderest
mercies, maddened as they were by their frightful wrongs, would be cruel
indeed.

Anxiously our friends watched the progress of the three Zulus up the
mountain, and all at once Leigh took a fancy to follow them, and was
soon swinging up the slant with rapid steps, accompanied by Amaxosa and
Kenyon.

The Zulus reached the spot and plunged into the cover, from which there
instantly arose a tremendous hubbub, and a moment later all three
reappeared, fairly driven out by half a score of white men, and fighting
furiously with their spears against several of the slavers, who were
armed with axes, whilst the remainder stood by eagerly seeking an
opportunity to use their guns.

Promptly Leigh and Kenyon pitched forward their rifles, and two of the
slavers instantly rolled head over heels down the mountain side, whilst
at the same moment, uttering a wild shout of encouragement, Amaxosa
dashed forward like an arrow from the bow, and in another second was
side by side with his warriors, their nervous arms dealing out death and
disaster with every sweeping blow.  When Leigh and Kenyon reached the
platform upon which this tragedy had been enacted, there was but one of
the enemy left alive, and he was engaged in a terrific hand-to-hand
combat with Amaxosa.  All at once the Zulu's axe broke off short in the
haft, and the ruffian slaver rushed at him with a victorious shout.
Springing lightly to one side, however, the active chief easily avoided
the deadly stroke aimed at him by his opponent, whom he seized the next
instant from behind, with his powerful hands pinning the man's arms to
his side, and before anyone could interfere, or even speak, with one
mighty effort the fierce Zulu fairly swung his hapless foe from the
ground, and then dashed him down full upon the rock, on his bare skull,
which was crushed in like an egg-shell, the awful blow, of course,
killing him on the spot, and an instant later the mountain side echoed
to the triumphant notes of the famous Undi war-chant.

"Oh, my father," said the great Zulu, contemplating his handiwork with
satisfaction, and speaking to Leigh, "it was a great fight; few could
have slain the man with empty hands.  Sleep softly, ye evildoers; the
Lion of the Undi bids you sleep!"

Carefully examining the cover from which the discomfited foe had sprung,
our friends found that it consisted of a shallow cave in the face of the
rock, the entrance being masked by low bushes, and a thick undergrowth
of wild vines.  In this hiding-place Kenyon discovered a basket
containing three white and two black pigeons, whilst a note, evidently
the one just received, lay upon the rocky floor.  Eagerly pouncing upon
this, the detective quickly mastered its contents, which were simply as
follows:--

"The second detachment will arrive at midnight to-night.--

"Zero."

Clearly it was not, therefore, a mere question of spying upon their
position; but the evident intention of the cunning slaver was to send in
small drafts of men to conceal themselves upon the mountain; and these,
when his own army moved up to the attack, would, at a given signal,
doubtless fall upon our friends in the rear, and thus effect a very
serious diversion in favour of Zero, at a most critical moment.

The scheme was well thought-out, but the watchfulness of Kenyon had
completely ruined it; and if the further suggestions which he now made
should prove workable, the little band might be relied upon to read
Master Zero another very severe and humiliating lesson, when he made his
intended final onset.

Briefly, Kenyon's idea consisted of an attempt to lure the second
detachment of slavers on to their utter destruction, but in view of
their prematurely taking the alarm in consequence of our friends
possibly failing to understand and correctly to answer their secret
signals, a large party was to be slipped into the long grass of the
veldt to intercept the slavers in the event of their making a push to
escape, and an endeavour was to be made to capture some of the men
alive, and force them to give up the secrets of their curious system of
aerial correspondence.

Finally it was decided that Amaxosa should set out with ten of his own
men and fifty of the warriors of the Atagbondo at moonrise, and lie in
ambush about three miles to the north of the mountain, but this party
was on no account to make any movement, except in the event of a rocket
being fired from the camp, giving them the direction of the escaping
slavers.  The Zulu was especially cautioned against making fire signals
of any kind, as it was calculated that the enemy would, themselves,
probably employ these.

Little, however, did our friends know, as yet, of the devilish ingenuity
of Master Zero, who had but to suspect the very remotest possibility of
the existence of a trap to guard against it in most effectual fashion,
and that night our friends received a peculiarly unpleasant proof of his
dangerous capabilities in this direction.

The matter fell out thus:--As Kenyon, Leigh, and a party of fifty picked
men were lying noiselessly in wait in the cover from which they had that
morning driven the enemy, they were suddenly and viciously attacked,
without a moment's warning, by Zero's forerunner, in the shape of an
enormous jaguar, which severely mauled a number of the men ere he was
settled by Kenyon, who drove a Zulu assegai through the beast's spine,
whereupon his roarings woke every living echo in the country side, and a
moment later a moving mass of dark forms could be seen gliding out from
the friendly shadows cast by the mountain, and stringing themselves
across the veldt in a vain effort to escape from their active foes.

Quickly Grenville sent up his rocket, and as the glittering thread of
fire traced its way across the heavens, Leigh and his eager party dashed
down the mountain, and followed the flying foe at speed across the
veldt, fearing from their apparent strength that the slavers might prove
too heavy for Amaxosa and his little band.

A mile from the rocks, finding their retreat cut off, the slavers formed
in square and stood at bay between two fires.  Leigh called to them to
surrender, and lay down their arms, but the answer was hurled back in
the shape of a contemptuous curse and a rattling volley, which stretched
several of the Atagbondo upon the ground.

Not one moment after this could Leigh or Amaxosa restrain their men, who
simply flung themselves upon the very muzzles of the slavers.  Nothing
short of a triple line of bayonets could have withstood such a
magnificently audacious charge, and in less time than it takes to tell,
the "People of the Stick" had literally wiped their hated foes off the
face of the earth.

Five minutes covered the whole ghastly affair from beginning to end, and
in that short space of time, Zero, in addition to the loss of his pet
tiger, had suffered to the extent of fifty-three men, whilst our friends
had on their side eleven killed outright and seventeen wounded, two of
these last, dying the next day.

"Haow Inkoos," said the Zulu chief approvingly; "it is indeed a brave
people, and fights well, almost as well as the Amazulu, but I would they
used the assegai or the axe and made cleaner work of it.  Well, what is
done is done, my father, and these evil witch-finders will never trouble
us again," and the great Zulu philosophically took a mighty pinch of
snuff and offered one to Leigh in token of his entire satisfaction with
the result of the night's work.

As soon as the arms had been collected, and the wounded men properly
attended to, a council of war was held by the entire party, and under
the circumstances it was considered useless to try and impose deceptive
messages upon Zero, the more so as Kenyon himself was strongly of
opinion, that not the pigeons, but the jaguar, had in the present
instance been intended to carry back to Equatoria, news of the safe
arrival of the band.  The great cat would, of course, have been started
off in the dark, without loss of time, or risk of suspicion even in the
event of its being observed, and would certainly have travelled very
swiftly to its distant home.

On the following morning the Atagbondo buried their dead, and then threw
the deceased slavers into the river to carry a message of woe and
weeping to their friends a hundred miles below.

Noticing his cousin looking anxiously at the summit of the mountain
several times that day with Kenyon's field-glass, "What's the matter
with the peak, old chap?" said Leigh.

"I wish I knew, Alf," was the reply; "I haven't seen it since the night
we got here: ever since then it has been completely hidden by yonder
white cloud, which rests upon it, and unless I am mistaken, the heat
emanating from that vapour is so intense, that the everlasting snows are
being absolutely melted away from the summit of the cone."

Just then a very wonderful and awful thing happened, for even as
Grenville was speaking, the heat-clouds suddenly rolled away like a
scroll and curled up out of sight, revealing the glittering peak for one
brief instant in all the radiant majesty of its unveiled glory, and then
the very next second there shot far, far up into the azure vault, a
giant jet of angry, inky-looking smoke, which floated lightly and lazily
through the absolutely pulseless air towards the north, and was quickly
succeeded by another great puff, and another, until the whole of the
northern heavens were densely clouded, and the mountain itself bore the
appearance of a gigantic monster mechanically expelling vast volumes of
dead black smoke at every labouring respiration of its mighty rock-girt
lungs, and shrouding the whole country in a sombre death-like pall of
weird and awful shade.

"A volcano, by Jove!" ejaculated Leigh.

"Yes," replied his cousin, "and an active one, too.  I fear that
Umbulanzi's explosion, the first night we came, has awakened the
slumbering internal fires, or else the water is somehow penetrating into
the crater and interfering with the gases imprisoned in its abysmal
depths.  We shall be in a nice pickle if the volcano takes a fancy to
indulge in an eruption just at present; however, we must hope for the
best, old man, and put our trust in Providence."

That very night, sad to say, our friends were awakened by the
objectionable throes of a mighty earthquake; the rocks quaked and
groaned, and the very bowels of the mountain were rent and torn by
ear-splitting explosions, and in less than ten minutes the whole party
was in full flight across the northern veldt, positively chased from the
stronghold upon which they had bestowed so much labour by great streams
of burning lava which, like vast rivers, flowed unimpeded down the
mountain side, and, instantly setting the long grass on fire, caused our
friends a most anxious time until they had safely crossed the river and
got well away from the spot--their movements being rendered relatively
slow by the necessity of carefully transporting the wounded men in
hammocks.

After a short consultation it was decided to steer for the Hermit's Cave
again, and to try and discover a place capable of defence somewhere in
the immediate vicinity of Equatoria; for, with the exception of the
mountain from which they had just been so rudely expelled, our friends
were assured by the natives that no natural fastness of any kind existed
within a hundred miles to the south of their present location, and
southwards all, both black and white, absolutely declined to move until
Zero was stamped out, or until they themselves were effectually disposed
of in attempting to settle with him.

A very sharp look-out would have to be kept in order to avoid falling
into the hands of the slavers, who were sure to notice the eruption of
the volcano, and, knowing that the little band would have in consequence
to relinquish the shelter afforded by the mountain, would doubtless be
outlying with a view to falling upon them unawares; but by confining the
travels of the party strictly to the night-time, and lying carefully hid
by day, Grenville and Amaxosa hoped to bring all safely into the desired
haven.

At all events, our friends were no worse off, in consequence of their
journey to the peak, having, on the contrary, inflicted two crushing
blows upon the enemy, and exchanged the bare handful of men with which
they left Equatoria for a small army thoroughly equipped for war,
already well-tried, and thirsting for occupation in the fighting line.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE.

Owing to the difficulty of transporting so many wounded men, it took our
friends quite four days to accomplish the distance which they had
covered on a former occasion in less than one-half that time; but by the
fourth night all had safely reached the mountains of the north, and
after Amaxosa had carefully reconnoitred the vicinity of the hermit's
cave, the party took undisputed possession thereof, and made
arrangements to defend the place in the event of an attack, by throwing
up a great earthwork round the outlet of the cavern.

This important matter attended to, Grenville and Kenyon next proceeded
to explore, by torchlight, the labyrinth of caves with which the heart
of the mountain proved to be honeycombed, and in the furthest of those
natural vaulted chambers they finally discovered Muzi Zimba the Ancient.
The old man was in a state of very great prostration, and was obviously
dying from sheer decay of all his faculties.  Kenyon at once
administered to him a spoonful of brandy, and afterwards prevailed upon
him to swallow some beef-tea.  This grateful nourishment soon appeared
to revive his sinking form, and, recognising Grenville, he accorded him
a hearty welcome, and congratulated him kindly upon his marvellous
escape from death, and then, speaking very lucidly, his mental faculties
seeming to grow clearer as his bodily vigour gradually died out, he
dilated at some length to the attentive pair, upon their present
dangerous position, and regarding the cause and the remedy for the
horrors of the slave-trade.

It must not, however, be supposed that the conversation given here, is
written down precisely as it was spoken; for at times our friends had
much ado to keep the poor old man alive, and it was only by continually
giving him weak stimulants, that body and soul were kept together until
his work was done.  Often, too, his halting tongue refused to frame the
meanings he desired to convey, and Grenville had thus frequently to come
to his assistance, and express his thoughts for him in clear, every-day
English.

"My sons," said the aged man, "I came hither many, many years ago--how
many, I know not, for my mind has for a long and weary time been under a
very darksome cloud, but it is clearer now, and in the light which
streams through heaven's wide-open gates.  I once more see, with the eye
of faith, and know that all will yet again be well.  Hearken, my sons,
for I can tell ye much that may avail ye to escape from the hands of the
demon who dwells in yonder city of evil.

"Ye are brave men, and I have heard how that ye have already rescued
many precious lives from this fiend in human form, and have thrice
brought defeat and disaster upon his hateful arms.  Nevertheless, be ye
ware, my sons, for he has, indeed, a very great army of bloody-minded
and wicked men, and he has, moreover, sworn to entirely eat you up.
Know, therefore, that in the third cave from here is a spot where, by
moving a great black stone, a narrow passage can be found, but wide
enough for two men to walk abreast, and this leads gently downwards,
step by step, right through the bowels of the mountain, and so into the
town of the evil ones, where there are many white and black slaves, both
of men and women.  Mark this passage well, my children, for if once yon
monster wins the secret of the way, ye, too, will exist only as I do--
even midway between the bitter memories of the unforgotten past and the
golden shores of the great hereafter.

"And now, my sons, bear with me yet, regarding this shameful trade in
human flesh and blood.  Long years ere Zero came hither, like a curse,
this country was peaceful and all happy, and much did I teach the simple
people that tended to the welfare of both soul and body; but since the
coming of this man of sin, all has been turned again to evil, and the
land everywhere weeps tears of sorrow and of blood.

"What can we do more, my sons, we who, simply placing our lives in the
hands of the good God who gave them, penetrate unarmed, and with naught
of defence but the Gospel of Peace, to the furthest confines of this
dark land?  What, I say, can we do, when the misguided rulers of
Christian countries at home daily permit--nay, encourage--the
unrestricted sale to the wretched natives, of millions of gallons of a
very evil drink, which goes by the name of `square face,' but which the
traders declare to be but harmless gin.  Gin! my sons, _the first coat
of which is under one shilling a gallon_, and which is poured into the
land, after it has paid the British governors upon the western sea-girt
border of this mighty continent _a duty of half-a-crown a gallon_, or
equal to two-and-a-half times its cost.  Look what follows.  The already
debased African is at once reduced below the level of the very beasts
that perish.  He must have this fiery spirit, the first fatal draught of
which has inflamed his soul, and brought into active being every vicious
slumbering detail of his fallen human nature, and in order to obtain the
wherewithal to purchase the beloved `Square Face,' he falls unawares
upon his next-door neighbour, so to speak--perhaps upon his own familiar
friend, who trusts him--and carrying him off by night, secretly sells
him to the highest bidder, white or black, that he can find within easy
distance of his home.

"The trade in gin and rum is at the bottom of one-half of this evil
slave-dealing, and so long as this crying sin is not only permitted, but
encouraged, amongst a simple people, who have no more judgment to
exercise, than have a third of the weak-minded ones sheltered from the
cruel world in many a private mad-house, so long will Central Africa
remain a country where cruelty and misery, and the shedding of blood,
prevail, where men bow down to stocks and stones, where Satan's kingdom
is, and where the missionary, my sons, is little more than a useless
martyr, his precious life expended in the lively faith that the mighty
power of his God will cause the barren soil he waters with his blood to
prove a fruitful field before the great day of reckoning comes for
missionary, for slaver, and for the miserable aboriginal African, whose
body and soul these opposing forces contend for mightily both night and
day.

"Hear me further, my sons, for much good may yet be done, in spite of
Zero and of the Arabs, who accomplish a world of evil, if someone of the
great white nations of the world will but come forward and use its
God-given strength for the purpose of putting down the slave-trade,
suppressing entirely the sale of gin and rum in Africa, and supporting
the missionaries.  Africa!  The whole country is being depopulated, and
every acre of it watered with the tears of a people torn from their
happy homes and sold into slavery in distant lands, or sent across the
seas, and soon this vast and fertile region, as yet almost unknown to
the white races, will become in all directions an impenetrable and
useless jungle, through which even the mammoth elephant must fail to
force his way--a dark continent in very deed and truth, an eyesore to
both God and man.

"In the earlier days of my sojourn in this place, my sons, I looked to
free and happy England to do all that this rich and fruitful land
required to make it perfect; and I taught the natives, under God, to
reverence and to pray for the Great White Queen, their mother, in whose
all-powerful name I came to them in Freedom's cause.  Alas! my sons, the
first slaver who entered here and broke up their quiet homes was this
shameless scoundrel Zero; and, speaking with the same tongue as my own,
naught of difference could this people see between his land and mine;
and then worse, far worse, when the horrible slave traffic attracted
hither the native dealers from the farther west, these brought with them
word that slaves could be freely sold under French and German, and--oh!
the shame of it--under British rule, ay, under Freedom's own flag on the
utmost coast of Western Equatorial Africa.

"My sons, I credited it not, and I sent my trusted runner a journey of
many, many weary moons, and he brought me back a faithful word--alas!
that it should have been a true one.

"`The thing is even so, my father,' he said.  `Almost within the very
cities of the Great White Queen, where the moving water beats, ever
murmuring, upon the yellow sands, and within hearing of the guns of
British forts, I saw very many slaves; and these were sold from house to
house, or from land to land, as their owners in the towns desired.
Also, day by day I watched great caravans of slaves from the peoples of
many, many powerful kingdoms, bringing in native produce and dust of
gold, and carrying out very many cases of square face and of rum.'

"`It is a false report that ye bring,' I said; `how know ye that the men
were slaves? the Great White Queen frees all who come beneath the shadow
of her glorious flag.'

"`That may be,' he said, `as I saw not the Great White Queen herself,
but the slaves were there, all marked with a brand on the cheek, my
father.  Also, I had speech of some of these, and they said that they
were slaves.  More, my father, there are also in the cities many native
guards, and most of these men are also slaves, who serve under the
Queen's ruler for money, which they give to the owners of their bodies
whenever the Queen pays them; and so, my father, I would even live here
under your shadow, where I and my people are free by the strength of our
own right hands, than be a pining slave under the flag of the Great
White Queen, my mother, who is too far away to help her suffering
children when they cry out of wrong and find none to hear them.'

"Then it was, my sons," said the aged man, "that I lost my reason; I
could not eat my food, and my sleep at nights went from me; I could only
kneel and humbly pray, both night and day, to the good God on high that
lie would wake the ear of our gracious Queen to hear the pitiful cry of
these poor defenceless creatures, over whom he has given her an empire,
and power, and glory, and who, though they are so far from her, are yet
her loyal subjects, and very near to the great God Himself, in whose
hand her breath is, and whose are all her ways.

"And now, my sons, my eyes are closing fast, and I leave ye to follow me
along the weary road which leads to the great hereafter.  Take, then,
the last blessing of a very aged and a defenceless man, to whom ye were
both kind and good.  Fear God, and follow that which is good, so shall
we meet again in the land where sorrows are forgotten, and where peace
and rest await both you and me.  Greeting, then, my sons, to you and
yours--greeting and farewell!"

And so he died, this one staunch witness for freedom and his God, in a
land where all else was foul and evil.  Very peacefully his life slipped
from him with the dawn of day, and his loyal spirit soared to the very
presence of Him who gave it life.

"God rest him," said Grenville gently; "God rest His faithful servant.
May I too die the death of a brave man, and may my last end be even as
the end of Muzi Zimba the Ancient."

That same day the little band buried the hermit's body, the natives
following him to the grave with many marks of respect and reverence, and
the white men firing a farewell salute over the last resting-place of
this gallant soldier, who had given up his life for the truth, and died
in freedom's cause, in this far-distant land.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

EQUATORIA.

As soon as our friends had paid the final honours to the mortal remains
of Muzi Zimba, they carefully warned the "People of the Stick" against
spreading the news of his decease in any shape or form, fearing that the
ignorant natives in the surrounding country might foolishly impute his
somewhat sudden and unexpected end, to the unauthorised presence of the
little hand in his cavernous dwelling.

Hardly were the funeral obsequies over than Kenyon drew Grenville aside,
and after a few moments of earnest conversation, the pair announced
their intention of investigating the secret stair through the mountain,
of which the old hermit had spoken to them.

Taking Amaxosa along, and supplying themselves from Muzi Zimba's ample
stores with torches made of fibre, the trio entered the indicated cave,
shifted the black, basaltic-looking rock, and duly found themselves in
the entrance of the tunnel.  The tortuous way was rough and very narrow,
but it was, as the old man had said, fairly easy to traverse, and in
twenty minutes' time our friends emerged into semi-daylight in the
narrow shaft of a dry and disused well, from whence--by means of a stout
but roughly-constructed ladder of rope, which hung from its upper
orifice--the old man had evidently obtained access at will into the
slavers' town.

Withdrawing cautiously into the mountain again, in fear lest the smoke
of their torches should be seen above the mouth of the well, our friends
entered into a somewhat heated argument.

Grenville was for entirely closing the narrow passage by blocking it
once for all with mighty rocks, which would effectually prevent Zero
from discovering the secret of the way, and perhaps destroying
themselves and their cavern by an explosion of gunpowder; but Kenyon
declared that, sooner than permit such a capital means of access to
Equatoria to be destroyed, he would himself sit and watch it night and
day.  His specious arguments and professional instinct, at length
prevailed over Grenville's caution, and the trio then resolved that two
reliable men should be kept constantly on the watch beneath the well,
provided with a cord, the other end of which they would attach to the
trigger of a small pistol fixed in the cavern above, and should anyone
attempt to descend the well, the sentinels were to jerk the cord, fire
the pistol as an anxious call for help, and forthwith retreat
noiselessly into the mountain burrow, where they would be met at the
narrowest part of the tortuous path by armed support.

During the whole of that day the party on the rock could descry in the
far distance large bands of the slaver fraternity patrolling the
southern veldt, and carefully searching the borders of the eastern
forest, being evidently altogether at a loss to know what had become of
the dangerous and hated foe, and yearning, no doubt, for the
resuscitation of their slaughtered bloodhounds; whilst when night fell,
the furthest limit of vision revealed, a hundred miles away, the
fire-girt summit of the fierce volcano, its blazing peak hanging upon
the distant line of smoke-beclouded sky like a glittering star of the
first magnitude.

The night was very dark and moonless when Kenyon and Amaxosa left the
outer cave to relieve Leigh and Grenville, who were keeping watch below
the well; but, pausing before he entered the narrow passage, the
American sent the Zulu forward, simply saying he would join him
by-and-by, as he had yet some work to do, and so it came to pass that
the two cousins returned to the cavern without having seen him, and that
Amaxosa, keeping his lonely vigil by torchlight, passed through the most
fearsome trial his courageous but untutored heart had ever known; for
whilst he watched and waited, patient as a statue carved in stone, the
great Zulu heard a light footfall behind him, and, turning quickly,
beheld, to his utter horror, the well-known figure of the ancient Muzi
Zimba approaching through the gloom.  The warrior's heart stood still
with fear and his very blood froze in his veins--Muzi Zimba, whose dead
body he had that very day helped to consign to its grave, and upon whose
breast he had placed giant rocks to scare the beasts of prey; yet here
he stood, and there before him in the flesh stood Muzi Zimba.  Nay, it
could not be flesh and blood, but a spook (spirit) of the mountain, and
not even a child of the Undi could fight with spooks.  Coming swiftly to
him, the vision spoke quietly to him in broken Zulu.  "Greeting," it
said, "greeting, Lion of the Undi, what dost thou here by night in Muzi
Zimba's secret way."

"Greeting, great Father of the Spooks," boldly answered the Zulu.  "I do
this here, I watch thy dark and narrow stair, oh, Ancient One, by order
of the Great White Chief, my father, and if any enter to disturb thy
restful peace, he dies a swift and easy death on this my ready spear."

"Well done, Amaxosa," was the cool reply which the astonished chief
received from his ancient friend, the "Father of the Spooks," as the
dread thing deftly removed its flowing wealth of beard and whiskers, and
revealed the clean-shaved countenance of Stanforth Kenyon, the American
detective.

"Wow, Inkoos!" said the astonished Zulu.  "Wow! the thing was indeed
well done; and I, even I, the son of the witch-doctor, Isanusi, would
have let thee pass and leave me for a spook.  Yet, did it seem strange
to me, my father, thou shouldst speak to thy son with the tongue of his
own people, for ever I heard that the Ancient One who has gone from us,
knew not to speak as speak the children of the Zulu."

Briefly explaining his intentions to the chief, Kenyon carefully
readjusted his disguise, and, nimbly mounting the ladder of rope,
scrambled out of the mouth of the well, and at once found himself in a
clump of bushes, and close to the outskirts of the slavers' town,
towards which he fearlessly directed his now seemingly feeble steps.

Well was it for Stanforth Kenyon that years of rigid training in his own
peculiar walk of life enabled him to support to perfection the somewhat
difficult, because exquisitely simple, character, which his supreme
audacity had undertaken.  The extreme darkness of the night was,
however, favourable to his enterprise, as there were but few people
about, and the detective found himself in the very centre of Equatoria
without being accosted by anyone.  The town, to his surprise, proved to
be very compactly built, and consisted of perhaps five hundred houses,
mostly composed of wood and roofed with iron, the only exceptions to
this rule being what were evidently the public offices of the place,
which were built of a mixture of sand and gravel, a composition going
amongst the natives by the name of "swish," and which presented, so far
as he could see by the light of the oil-lamps hung round the buildings,
an extremely handsome appearance.

Just as Kenyon was about to move forward after carefully taking stock of
the place, a young girl started out from a side street, and laid a
gently detaining hand upon his arm.

"Father," she said, "I have looked and longed for thee every night, and
feared that thou wert ill.  Come and see my boy, I beseech thee, good
father, for he dies--he dies before my face, and here is none to help
but thee."

With a sign of brief assent, the detective turned and halted slowly
along, despite the manifest impatience of the young and anxious mother.

Turning into a small house some little way along the street, she led him
through a comfortably but roughly furnished parlour, into a bed-room at
the rear, where lay a baby boy not more than eighteen months old, and
whom his medical experience soon assured him was suffering from a slight
attack of that most malignant disease, diphtheria.

Knowing, through Grenville, that the old hermit had acted in the
capacity of physician and surgeon to both slavers and natives, Kenyon,
before he left the cavern, had provided himself with several articles,
including a small case of phials, likely to be of use in supporting his
assumption of the character of a medical practitioner; and, briefly
directing the young mother to keep the child quiet and supply him with
cooling drinks, he carefully painted the tonsils with perchloride of
iron, and left her instructions to continue this treatment.

As Kenyon, however, was moving away, the grateful mother again stopped
him.  "Father," she said, "I call thee such by permission; canst thou do
naught for yon poor woman whom these cruel, heartless Mormons have
condemned to death by fire, because she will not change her faith and
`marry' one of their own creatures.  Thou knowest my history, my father;
how I was stolen away when but a girl, and wedded to a man I used to
hate, and that my happiest hour was when he died in battle.  Yet do I
love my little son, and could I but give freedom to this woman I would
fly the country with her, and take refuge with the brave men of my own
race who have escaped hence, and who now hold Zero at defiance."

"Where lies this woman, my daughter?" said the false hermit, after
making a show of thinking carefully for some little time.

"Still in the same strong place, my father--the great hall of the common
prison-house; and at noon, next day but one, she suffers at the stake.
Save her, if thou canst, my father; and if it be indeed beyond thy
power, then give her, in mercy, a draught of swift and deadly poison, if
thou hast such, and earn a double blessing from her ere she dies."

With a promise that he would endeavour on the following night to see the
condemned one referred to, our adventurer at length got away from the
importunate woman, and effected, undiscovered, his retreat to the well,
and thence into the depths of the mountain, where he, of course, found
the Zulu on guard, the pair being soon after this relieved by Umbulanzi
and the young Scotsman, Ewan, of whom all had formed a high opinion,
both as to shrewdness and bravery.

Arrived in the cave above, Kenyon communicated to his astonished and
admiring friends his experiment and the result of it, and all then fell
to eagerly discussing ways and means for the rescue of the poor
condemned woman from her villainous judges and would-be executioners;
and, ere the party lay down to sleep, it was decided that Kenyon should
make an attempt to see her the following night in his character of a
priest, and learn what suggestions the captive could herself make, with
regard to a plan to save her life and give her back her liberty.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

"HOPE."

On the following night, therefore, as soon as darkness fell, Kenyon,
disguised to represent the old hermit, again entered the slavers' town,
whilst Leigh, Grenville, Amaxosa, and a score of picked men lay in wait
below the well, from which, in the event of hearing a given signal
whistle, they were to sally out and assist our adventurous friend.

The detective went about his accustomed work with the greatest
_nonchalance_; and, on reaching the building which had been pointed out
to him the previous night, simply and plainly told the guard that he
wished to have speech of the condemned woman.  Without a word of reply,
one of the men on duty signed to Kenyon to follow him, and well might
our adventurer, under the loose folds of his cloak, clench his fingers
over the butt of a friendly revolver when he found himself ushered
directly into the well-known and hated presence of Zero the Slaver.  For
a moment the impulse was almost unconquerable in Kenyon to slip out his
six-shooter and make an end of this inhuman monster without further
palaver; but, recognising how much hung upon the result of his actions
that night, he wisely restrained his passions.

The slaver was sitting in a handsomely got-up room carpeted with furs,
and thick with weapons and with trophies of the chase, and opposite to
him--fortunately, perhaps, for Kenyon--sat the native king already
spoken of, and who immediately did our adventurer reverence, in his
capacity of Muzi Zimba the Ancient.

As the guard detailed his errand.  Zero rose with a sneering laugh.
"Ay! let him go to her," he said, "and look 'ee here, old man, if this
captive escapes me as did the last ones, thine own life shall pay the
forfeit.  Now go, nay, by all the Gods, I will go too!" and, passing on
in front of the supposed hermit, he provided Kenyon with another almost
overpowering temptation to use his weapons.

Unbarring the door of another room, Zero let the hermit in and closed
the portal behind them both, and Kenyon found himself face to face with
an imperially beautiful woman, still quite young, but whose lovely face
was worn with sorrow and anguish, and furrowed with her bitter tears.  A
tall, well-knit figure, a wealth of lustrous golden hair, and glorious
deep blue eyes, formed a _tout ensemble_ which might have won pity from
a stone, but had no effect whatever upon this scoundrel who battened on
human misery.

"Well, madam," said the slaver, in cutting tones, "you have your own
obstinacy to thank for your death, which takes place to-morrow.  Here's
a priest for you, so be quick and say your patter, or whatever it is.
You'd be surprised to see how fast your precious boy is picking up the
tenets of our Holy Mormon Faith," and the demon laughed a jeering,
taunting laugh, which made Kenyon's blood boil, and he could have kissed
the feet of the defenceless woman before him for the gesture of
ineffable contempt with which she turned her back on the wretched hound.
"Pray, begone," she said in a firm but musical voice; "your hated
presence comes between me and my God."

"Ha! ha!" laughed the sardonic ruffian; "one for you, Sir Priest, one
for you, I reckon.  Well, come along with you, I've no time to fool away
here."  But Kenyon, mindful of the part he had to play, took not the
slightest notice of the slaver, but kneeled reverently down by himself
for a few brief moments, then rose and left the room obedient to an
impatient signal from the fierce and wicked man, whom his fingers fairly
itched to throttle then and there.

Had Zero looked behind him he would have been greatly astonished to see
the captive woman bend simply down and gaze wildly at the floor beneath
her feet; and then, in a mighty revulsion of feeling, give way to a
perfect paroxysm of tears and sobs.  What, you ask, gentle reader, was
the cause of this sudden and subtle change from strength to weakness?
What?  Simply Stanforth Kenyon's message written with the point of his
finger on a dusty boarded floor, and that message was:

"Hope."

Only four precious letters; yet this man had written them at the peril
of his life.  It must, it did, mean something, and all her woman's wit
was instantly on the alert to lay hold of the earliest clue to the
whereabouts of these her secret friends.

Hope!  Oh pity her, gentle reader, a lovely woman in the zenith of her
beauty and the pride of motherhood, condemned to die a frightful death
before another day had run its course, and die merely to satisfy the
insensate malice of a ruffian Mormon hound.

Turning away from Zero, Kenyon would have left the building in silence;
but the slaver laid upon his shoulder a firm, detaining hand.  "Softly,
my good old man!  `Softly! softly! catch monkey,' as these infernal
niggers say.  You live on the mountain, and I reckon you can see a long
way.  Now have you seen naught of this cursed Grenville and the pack of
fools who follow him?  Speak out, man, or I guess I'll soon find means
to open your wretched old jaws."

Like a flash of light, an inspiration came to Kenyon; and, drawing
himself up proudly, he shook off the slaver's hand.  "The men ye name
are even now within my cave upon the hill," he said.  "Go seek them if
ye dare, monster of evil, but beware the end thereof; beware, for Muzi
Zimba warns thee!"

The effect was precisely what Kenyon had calculated upon.  Flinging the
old man from him with a fearful oath, the slaver sent his powerful voice
echoing through the house and out along the streets, calling up guards
and officers in every direction, whilst our adventurous friend soon
after took his departure, entirely unnoticed during the tumult which
followed the communication of the news which he had given, regarding the
position of his friends.

Hanging about for a few moments, however, Kenyon learned all he wished
to know, as he heard Zero, with a volley of oaths, exclaim: "Put off her
execution?  No, by all the Gods--no, tie the slut to the faggots at noon
to-morrow, and let her roast, and mind you have her whelp of a son to
watch her die, whilst I eat up these cursed fools who think to change my
vengeance and to spoil my trade."

This was all that Kenyon required to know, and an hour later he was deep
in consultation with his friends in the hermit's cave, amongst the
northern hills.

It was agreed on all hands that Kenyon had acted for the best, as the
plan he had formed, though simple in the extreme, had every promise of a
grand success.

Briefly, the scheme stood thus:--Whilst Zero was moving up to the
attack, as he evidently meant to do next morning, a party of their own
was, by way of the secret passage and the well, to enter Equatoria, fall
upon the few guards left there, carry off the captive woman, and
generally do as much damage to the slavers' town as they found it in
their power to accomplish.  It was calculated that the rifles of Leigh,
Umbulanzi, and Ewan, supported by the Atagbondo marksmen, would be quite
sufficient to check Zero in his ascent up the steep and difficult path
to the cavern; and, even if he forced his way so far, he would have to
reckon with about two hundred of the Atagbondo, and would find their
warriors uncommonly hard nuts to crack; whilst Kenyon and Grenville, who
were to assail the town, would take with them Amaxosa and his men,
together with a hundred of the "People of the Stick," quite sufficient,
they thought, to do irreparable damage to the slavers' home in the two
hours which they promised themselves to spend in Equatoria.

And so, after looking carefully over their arms and their defences, the
little band lay down to sleep that night with perfect confidence in
their leaders, and in the issues of the morrow; only Leigh sat up the
whole night cleaning his weapons, with murder in his heart, and a wealth
of determined resolve upon his handsome face.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

ALIVE FROM THE DEAD.

Soon after dawn the whole party was astir, and the defenders of the cave
were quickly at their several posts, whilst Kenyon and Grenville again
carefully looked over their plan of attack.

Grenville was fortunately able to define the probable site of the
execution, knowing from experience, that the miserable victims done to
death by the infamous Mormon Inquisitors were _either burned alive or
crucified_ upon a small natural hill--a curious smooth-topped,
skull-shaped mound, in fact, perhaps fifty feet in height, and which,
fortunately, stood between the mouth of the old well and the slavers'
town, and was equi-distant from each, perhaps five or six yards.  It was
a shrewd count, therefore, that the little rescue-party would be able to
get within easy rifle range before they were discovered by the enemy;
and, as Zero would be certain to carry practically the whole of the
fighting population with him, it was extremely probable that when our
friends unmasked their party, a general stampede for safety on the part
of the slavers would be the immediate result, when it was hoped that the
poor captive woman would be quite forgotten, and, being left behind,
would prove an easy acquisition, and when they once had her in safety,
the hands of our friends would, of course, be perfectly free to act in
the way that might seem best.

At eleven o'clock the leaders of the storming party exchanged a warm
hand-grasp with Leigh and Umbulanzi, and left the cavern by way of the
tunnel, through which we will now follow their fortunes.

The getting of such a relatively large number of men down through this
singular mountain burrow and up beyond the mouth of the well on the
other side of the range, took considerably longer than the detective had
reckoned upon, and the hour was within a very few minutes of noon by the
time that all were safely hidden in the straggling line of bush which
masked their presence, and impinged upon the narrow stretch of veldt
lying between their position and the curious knoll referred to, upon
which, to their horror, our friends could now plainly see a great
upright stake fixed, and around this post were placed bundles of heavy
faggots, packed closely with a resinous, woody fibre, and even while
they looked, the executioner appeared upon the hill, carrying in his
hand a swinging brazier, filled with some burning substance.

Grenville quickly pointed out that the victim was to be faced towards
the town, which was another circumstance in their favour, as the crest
of the knoll would effectually screen their movements from the
preoccupied herd of sightseers beyond.

All hearts beat fast as they saw the poor sufferer led up and bound to
the martyr stake, whilst the mighty, spontaneous shout which went up to
heaven, caused each man's fingers to clinch anxiously upon his weapons,
as it proved to them that the multitude beyond the knoll could be no
inconsiderable one.

The instant that the executioner turned his back upon the well, and
busied himself with the fastening of the poor woman to the stake,
Grenville gave the word, and the whole pa

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