Into the Unknown Part 15

On arriving within eye-shot of the town, Grenville was surprised to notice an unusual quiet about the place; and on hailing the place to surrender, received no reply.

Apprehensive of a surprise, the band gradually approached and cautiously entered the town, only to find it untenanted by a living soul.

The Mormons had evidently taken flight hurriedly, fearing the vengeance of Grenville and his Zulu allies, for the streets were strewed with their household goods in every direction; and on further examination it proved that the whole community had crossed the river by the central bridge, which they had closed against pursuers, and had betaken themselves to the great stairway with mult.i.tudinous ladders.

On discovering this voluntary capitulation, Grenville gave a sigh of relief, for he had feared lest some overt act of imprudence on the part of the Mormons should draw down upon them prompt and unsparing vengeance on the part of his bloodthirsty allies, when he well knew that man, woman, and child would have gone down "in one red slaughter blent."

The main body was soon called up, and that night, for the first time for many months, our friends slept with a genuine roof over their heads.

The Zulus, under the direction of Amaxosa, sacked the town, taking all they wanted, but bringing to Grenville all the gold they came across, which was to be the share of his party--and a very fair quant.i.ty they found, too--and as there was still some little time before the setting in of the rains, Grenville and his cousin visited the river near their old Table Rock, and going higher up the stream found it, as poor Winfield had predicted, a veritable El Dorado.

"You see, Alf," said Grenville, "you're going back to England, and you mean to be married; and take my word for it, old chap, you'll get a dusting from your governor for getting spliced without his consent. Not that I would advise you otherwise; you've got a sweet little woman for a wife, and may G.o.d bless you both; but remember that every thousand pounds you can take home with you will lessen the old man's wrath, so take my advice and carry in a decent 'pile.'"

For ten days the cousins toiled, whilst Dora Winfield resided with them in their old quarters at the rock; and when the time came for them to say farewell to East Utah, they had ama.s.sed an enormous quant.i.ty of the precious metal, for which their friend Amaxosa gladly provided bearers.

Grenville said a last farewell to the grave of the girl who had loved him so well, and turned away with an aching void in his breast. The grand self-sacrifice of this poor young creature had stirred his n.o.ble nature to its very depths, and had he a hundred lives he would willingly have relinquished them all to bring her back again to her place, which, alas! would henceforth know her no more. As he moved dejectedly on towards the western bridge, a hand was laid upon his arm, and the voice of Amaxosa softly said, "Will my father turn aside and do the final honours to him who loved him, and who died for him?"

Without a word Grenville turned and followed the chief, only to find, in the very centre of the Mormon town, the body of Myzukulwa--or, rather, what was left of it--placed upon a funeral pyre, surrounded by a hundred of the chiefs and headmen of his tribe.

Seeing he was expected to say something, Grenville stepped forward, and laying his hand upon the cold brow of the dead warrior, he said--

"Amaxosa, my brother, children of the ancient race of Undi, my faithful sons, here you behold all that remains of him who was the bravest man in a nation where all are warriors and mighty men of renown. As he lived, so he died, with his face to the foe, and his victorious foot upon their stricken necks. My brothers, let us live as he lived, so that when our time comes we may die even as he died--ever faithful to the death-- Myzukulwa, the son of Isa.n.u.si, the son of Undi."

Not another word was spoken; the warriors filed slowly past the corpse, and the last man lighted the funeral pyre as all left the town, leaving it in lonesome possession of the ashes of the mighty and unforgotten dead; but looking back some time later, Grenville saw that Zulu artifice had evidently set fire to the town in several quarters at once, for East Utah lay behind him one ma.s.s of smoke and flame, forming a glorious monument to the memory of the departed chief whom such a fiery couch for his final sleep befitted to a degree.

The descent into the bed of the river was accomplished with difficulty, but once down, the party--Dora mounted on the quagga--pushed steadily forward and reached the outer world just before the sun set, all heaving a sincere sigh of relief on finding East Utah at lost shut out from view, and belonging only to the memories of the bitter past and the shadows of the hereafter.

Grenville that night asked Amaxosa how he accounted for the herds of game going through the water and all along the dark tunnel. For reply the chief signed to our friend to follow him. Gliding to the river-brink, they sought cover, and soon Grenville by the light of the moon saw several head of game enter the water and apparently commence _to browse there_, and he at once realised what was going on as the animals, feeding on the mosslike weeds which floated on the surface, gradually entered the tunnel and disappeared from view.

In this way they were undoubtedly led through the mountain, and on arriving at the further side, with their appet.i.tes satisfied by the luscious moss, did not care to face the tunnel, but took the first way that presented itself up to the daylight. How Amaxosa's rhinoceros had ever got through was a marvel to all, but he had probably accomplished the journey during an abnormally low state of the river.

Next morning Grenville and his friends set out for Natal, taking with them their bearers, and bidding an affectionate good-bye to Amaxosa.

The chief was too much affected to speak; and when Dora Winfield clasped a gold bracelet of her own round his sinewy wrist as a keepsake, he fairly broke down, and with a final wave of his hand turned dejectedly away, following the last of his men back into the tunnel.

Little did the cowardly Mormons imagine that this wild and savage spirit, which for years had brooked their blows, their curses, and their ignominious service, would one day rise and crush them out of remembrance, and hold undisputed sway in their own kingdom, which would henceforth know them no more.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

"VALE, ME AMA!"

The rest of our story is soon told.

Grenville and his companions, after numberless hards.h.i.+ps, owing to the unprecedentedly heavy rains, at last reached Natal, where our friend had the satisfaction of acting as best man at his cousin's wedding.

A full notice of this interesting event was published in the Local Press by some enterprising reporter. On the following day, a few hours after the issue of the sheet in question, Grenville, who was sitting listlessly smoking in the hotel, was surprised by the advent of a smart, dapper-looking little man, who asked him if he was the "gentleman known as Mr Alfred Leigh."

"No," replied Grenville; "do you really want my cousin?--for he's a newly-married man, you know."

"Yes, sir, I do want him," said the little man, bowing deferentially, "and he will wish to see me. Can you introduce me?"

"Certainly," said Grenville, rising lazily. "Whom shall I announce?"

"My name is Driffield, of the firm of Masterton and Driffield, solicitors," was the reply.

Leading the new arrival to Leigh's private sitting-room, Grenville circ.u.mspectly knocked at the door, and entering said, "My cousin, Mr Driffield.--Alf, Mr Driffield, who is a lawyer, is anxious to meet you, and says you will be glad to see him."

"You misunderstood me, sir," said the little lawyer; "I observed that your cousin would wish to see me. The news I bring you, sir, is both bad and good--bad, because your father and your brother are both dead; good, because I have to congratulate you upon your accession to the peerage, Lord Drelincourt."

Poor Alf! it was indeed cruel news to strike him at the very commencement of his wedded happiness; but his wife slipped her soft arms round his neck, and the lawyer considerately withdrew, Grenville whispering to him to wait his return in the smoke-room.

In few words Leigh told his cousin to find out all the solicitor had to communicate, and to do what he thought best; and then Grenville left him alone with his sorrow and his new-made wife.

The lawyer had little to tell. Lord Drelincourt and his son had been killed in a railway accident in Ireland, and advertis.e.m.e.nts had been inserted in all the South African papers for the missing heir to the t.i.tle, as his wanderings had been traced as far as Natal.

Grenville was favourably impressed with the little man, who hurried away to cable his lords.h.i.+p's London solicitors, promising to return that evening, which he did, and made himself so useful that before the new Lord Drelincourt's departure for England he was made happy with a very handsome cheque.

Grenville next took pa.s.sages by the Union Company's steamer _Tartar_, and saw his cousin and his bride safely off two days after, the former in possession of a bill of lading for gold dust to the value of _a quarter of a million sterling_.

Words cannot describe poor Leigh's distress when he found that his cousin had no intention of accompanying them to the Old Country.

"d.i.c.k, you're not going back to waste your life over her grave and amongst savages? Don't do it, old man," pleaded his cousin.

"Not I, Alf--I'm not made of that kind of stuff. If I do anything with reference to the matter, it will be in the direction of visiting Salt Lake City and exterminating the whole cursed Mormon breed. I cannot yet coop myself up in trim civilised England--I long for the keen breath of the mountain air and for the wide sweep of veldt as it spreads its expanse before me in all the weird mystery of the moonlight. No, dear old chap; you have someone else to take care of you now; but when you want d.i.c.k Grenville, you know you've only to ask for him. Adieu, Alf; good-bye, Sister Dora. G.o.d bless you both! Vale, me ama!"

The End.