Zero the Slaver: A Romance of Equatorial Africa

by Lawrence Fletcher

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

  ALIVE FROM THE DEAD.

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

  Grenville was fortunately able to define the probable site of theexecution, knowing from experience, that the miserable victims done todeath by the infamous Mormon Inquisitors were _either burned alive orcrucified_ 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 wasa shrewd count, therefore, that the little rescue-party would be able toget within easy rifle range before they were discovered by the enemy;and, as Zero would be certain to carry practically the whole of thefighting population with him, it was extremely probable that when ourfriends unmasked their party, a general stampede for safety on the partof the slavers would be the immediate result, when it was hoped that thepoor 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 inthe way that might seem best.

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

  The getting of such a relatively large number of men down through thissingular mountain burrow and up beyond the mouth of the well on theother side of the range, took considerably longer than the detective hadreckoned upon, and the hour was within a very few minutes of noon by thetime that all were safely hidden in the straggling line of bush whichmasked their presence, and impinged upon the narrow stretch of veldtlying between their position and the curious knoll referred to, uponwhich, to their horror, our friends could now plainly see a greatupright stake fixed, and around this post were placed bundles of heavyfaggots, packed closely with a resinous, woody fibre, and even whilethey looked, the executioner appeared upon the hill, carrying in hishand a swinging brazier, filled with some burning substance.

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

  All hearts beat fast as they saw the poor sufferer led up and bound tothe martyr stake, whilst the mighty, spontaneous shout which went up toheaven, caused each man's fingers to clinch anxiously upon his weapons,as it proved to them that the multitude beyond the knoll could be noinconsiderable one.

  The instant that the executioner turned his back upon the well, andbusied himself with the fastening of the poor woman to the stake,Grenville gave the word, and the whole party as one man shot noiselesslyout of the bush, and commenced a jog-trot across the open space whichseparated them from the scene of the execution. When all were within ahundred yards, the wretched fellow upon the hill turned him round andsaw them; then uttering a wild shout, and hurriedly bending down, heseized a lighted brand and endeavoured, with trembling hands, to thrustit in amongst the faggots.

  Dropping quickly upon one knee, Grenville raised his rifle, but stillsomewhat weak and shaken by the sharp run, for once he missed his man.Kenyon, however, quickly following, "wiped his eye," knocking the rascalhead-over-heels off the hill.

  A great roar of surprise and wonder burst from the mob beyond the knoll,changed to a shriek of terror and consternation as the fierce Zulus senttheir wild battle-cry echoing across the rolling veldt, and chargedright up the hill, instantly surrounding the poor creature at the stoke,and killing the Mormon satellites who were clambering up to the spot.

  And now ensued a stubborn fight, for Zero had left behind him many moremen than our friends had counted upon, and these, having mostly lefttheir rifles behind them in the town, charged madly up the little hill,and furiously engaged the rescue-party hand-to-hand, and for quite fiveminutes the cause of all this tumult was utterly forgotten, whilst thefight swung fiercely to and fro, and the issue hung in doubt. Ourfriends certainly had the advantage of position, whilst the slavers, onthe other hand, still stood in the proportion of at least two to one;but the fiery valour of the active Zulus, nobly backed by the almostinsensate fury of the injured "People of the Stick," would brook noliving check, and presently, led by Amaxosa, they went right through theslaver crowd, cutting them down on every hand, and driving all that wereleft of the wretched men pell-mell into the town, which both bandsentered simultaneously.

  Kenyon then bethought him of the prisoner, and, taking Grenville back,both men turned to ascend the hill, and relieve the poor girl from herpainful and dangerous position. Still as a statue she stood, with herhead drooping forward upon her breast, and for one moment the thoughtthat some stray shot had struck her crossed painfully the minds of both;but when they had arrived within twenty yards of her position the girlheard them, and quickly raised her head, her beautiful face all wet withtears, and eloquent with voiceless prayers to heaven. Staggering back,as if struck by a shot, Grenville, to Kenyon's utter astonishment,dropped his gun, and threw up his hands in a frenzy of terror.

  "God in heaven!" he screamed, "Dora, sister Dora! or am I mad, indeed."

  Well might poor Grenville think his brain had turned. After all Zero'swicked boasts of crime, and all his cousin's bitter sorrow for hislong-dead wife, how could he believe that _there before him, in theflesh, beautiful as when first he saw her in East Utah, stood Dora, LadyDrelincourt_, dressed in deep black, with a pure white cross upon herbreast, and fastened to a martyr's stake, in the darkest part of darkestEquatorial Africa?

  "Dick!" she cried, "dear Dick Grenville, tell me, does my darlinghusband live, or have I lost him, too. Tell me, tell me! I beseechyou, for the love of God."

  Pulling himself together, as the music of those well-known accentsreached his ears, Grenville at once ran to the poor girl's side, andquickly unbound the chain which fixed her to the cruel stake, speakingmeanwhile soothing words of hope and joy, and peace on earth, whilstKenyon, hearing that her boy was in the town, went off, like an arrowfrom the bow, to make certain of the safety of his friend and patron'slittle son.

  In every direction, as the detective entered the town, he found blazinghouses, and dead and dying men, but the Atagbondo had behavedsplendidly, and set a lesson to their evil white-skinned foes, in thisrespect, that on woman or on child they laid no hand, but every man theyfound died by the spear or by "the stick." One ghastly sight, however,did Kenyon see, for absolutely pinned to a burning house by a Zuluassegai, which had passed right through her heart, hung the deadmistress of Zero, the slaver-chief, and the beholder know that the handthat killed her was the hand of justice--justice on a woman more evil inher ways than many a wicked man who had that day fallen in fair fight.

  Cornered, like rats, and yet more numerous than their fierce opponents,the slavers fought with all the Courage of despair, but naught availedthem, and soon the only house in Equatoria which remained intact, wasthe great public hall, into which the storming party had collected theentire movable wealth of the slaver fraternity, and from the roof ofwhich the Saint George's ensign now floated lazily upon the labouringbreeze. Seeing the good old flag, Grenville at once led his rescued"sister," as it was always his habit to call her, back to the Mormontown, and the anxious young mother forgot the awful scenes of carnageand of blood, in the joy of embracing, once more, her loving littlechild.

  Ordering the men to shoulder everything worth having, and to return tothe upper cave before Zero and his band could arrive, Grenville andKenyon prepared to leave Equatoria, accompanied by Lady Drelincourt andher son, and by the woman of whom mention has previously been made,together with her child, who was now in better health, whilst the wholeof the Mormon-cum-slaver women and children had scampered away to thewoods, which lay in the r
ear of the town.

  Just now, however, the victorious little band received a very severecheck, for ere they reached the skull-shaped hill, the report offirearms broke upon their ears, and Grenville suddenly exclaimed, "ByJove! what can have happened? There goes Alf's repeater. What, in thename of fortune, is he doing here?"

  Dashing up the hill, and leaving the women in shelter on the town sideof it, they came upon a sad sight. Right below their position, Leighand about a hundred men only, were sullenly falling back upon the knoll,fighting every inch of the ground like fiends, but being steadily drivenin, by something like seven times their number of heavily-armed slavers.

  As the retreating party got against the hill, the slavers uttered ashout of triumph, and charging in, drove the little band in everydirection; but little they reckoned upon the thunderbolt which fell uponthem from above. Down from the top of the knoll like a living,irresistible whirlwind, came the lion-hearted children of the Zulu, ledby their fierce and active chief, and close upon their heels, in acompact serried mass, followed the ready "People of the Stick," behindwhom Leigh and his gallant little band re-formed and charged the slavershome.

  By this time the rifles were almost silent, only Grenville's pieceoccasionally speaking its mind, for he seemed to have eyes for everycombat of a friend, and when the great Zulu had led his men cleanthrough the heart of the slavers, and had charged madly back again alonga ghastly lane of dead and dying men, the foe drew off a little, andsought to load his guns.

  This would never do, and with a wild earth-shaking shout, Amaxosa againcharged the craven crowd; with him came the staunch war-dogs of theZulu, who loved the slaughter as they loved their daring chief, andscarce a rod behind came Barad "the Hailstorm," his faithful peoplefollowing into the very jaws of death the gallant "Chieftain of theStick," and ever side by side with the mighty Zulu, there fought AlfLeigh, scarcely less fierce than his sable friend, and even moredetermined; and before the "giant three" the foe fell in everydirection, like corn beneath the sickle.

  Suddenly, however, Leigh broke out of the line, and, with a wild cry oftriumph, fiercely engaged Zero himself, hand to hand, and axe to axe.The slaver-chief was a powerful and an active man, but he was no matchfor the colossal Englishman, to whom fury, revenge, and long-nursedbitter hate, had given a tenfold strength, and in ten seconds Zero laywounded and stunned upon the ground.

  Then there arose a mighty uproar, the slavers charged madly in upon thefoe, and bore them back a dozen rods, fighting the while like fiends,and thus succeeded in carrying their wounded chieftain off the field,then surging in around the little band which was now fighting in square,the desperate slavers made a tremendous effort to annihilate theirplucky and determined foes. Clubs are poor weapons to keep the face ofa square, and the formation was quickly broken, and, fighting likelions, our friends were driven backward to the hill, every one of themfairly drenched with blood, and almost all wounded, whilst their numbernow totalled something under a hundred men.

  All about lay the slain, singly and in knots and heaps; dead meneverywhere, and everywhere rivers of blood, and the horrid stench ofslaughter.

  After a few moments' rest, the slavers charged in with a wild shout,resolved, at all cost, to wipe out the little band of heroes who heldthe skull-shaped hill; and when the surging struggling mass of men hadbeen lost in a rain of blows, for full ten minutes, all chance of escapeor triumph for our friends seemed gone: but fifty men were left to fightthree hundred.

  Grenville and Leigh, Amaxosa and Kenyon, were back to back, their blowsrained straight and sure, and at every blow from each a man went down,still what could they do against such overwhelming odds as six to one.

  Down went the gallant Umbulanzi, with a great spear wound in his back,and down upon his breathless corpse went his recreant foe, his headsplit to the very chin by a vengeful blow from Grenville's ready axe.

  All was in vain, yet even as our friends had given up all hope ofescaping from the hideous crowd which surged in upon them like hungrywolves round a dying buffalo, a clear, cold voice rang out in stentoriantones across the startled veldt, arresting every hand and every arm.

  "Cease," it said; "cease and hold your hands, ye uncircumcised ones,both white and black, unless ye wish to die." And there upon the knoll,to the utter horror of our friends, flaunted the dreaded banner ofMormonism, and round the mingled mass of combatants, and of dead anddying men, there extended on every hand a mighty triple ring of armedand hated followers of the False Prophet.

  Ringed in by fully a thousand well-armed men, further resistance wasworse than useless. Moreover, Grenville's keen eye quickly noted thecurious fact that, so far from displaying anything like enthusiasm overthe advent of the Mormon host, the slavers seemed considerably moretaken aback by the presence of the new arrivals than even his own party.

  The tension of feeling between the three bands was all at onceunintentionally relieved by poor Leigh suddenly noticing Dora on thecrest of the knoll, where the poor girl had been an agonised spectatorof the awful fight, and where her cries, notifying the dreaded Mormonapproach, had been no more audible than the twitterings of a sparrow.Suddenly noticing her, I say, an expression of positive terror frozepoor Leigh's face, his hair rose up upon his head, and with a fearfulshriek of "Dora, Dora, my long-dead, darling wife!" he threw up hishands and fell prone upon his face, with the life-blood welling from hismouth.

  Kenyon threw himself upon his knees beside his friend, but in anotherinstant Dora was holding her lover's head upon her lap, lover andhusband both in one, lost and found; and, after all these cruel years ofweary waiting, must she find her darling but to lose his love for ever?No! for the good God was full of mercy to the faithful heart that hadtrusted Him to the very stake of martyrdom, and her husband soon cameround again, but to relapse into a dangerous attack of brain fever, fromwhich he escaped only by slow degrees, and it took many weary months anda world of anxious nursing night and day ere Alfred Leigh regained hisnormal strength.

  Speaking again, the Mormon leader, a fine-looking old man, with asnow-white beard, commanded the combatants to lay down their arms andconsider themselves the prisoners of the Holy Three, and this order theslavers instantly obeyed.

  Stepping coolly forward, however, Grenville spoke up boldly--

  "Who are you, and by what right do you command here, sir? Yonder floatsthe flag of England, under which we serve, and we demand that yourespect its world-wide rights."

  "Richard Grenville, I know you," was the cool reply, "and here I commandeveryone by the right of might, so lay down your arms, or my men shallsweep you off the face of the earth and save further trouble: ay, bothyou and yonder heap of carrion with you," and the Mormon pointed to theslavers, who were huddled together a hundred yards distant from theirlate antagonists.

  Clearly the game was up, and there was nothing for it but to comply withthe Mormon's commands, which all did with a very ill grace, when,commencing with the slavers, they were quickly bound; but, comingswiftly to Grenville the Mormon leader spoke.

  "I know," he said, "that ye are brave and upright, but bloody-mindedmen, yet is your word your bond, and if ye give it me now that ye willnot essay escape, no cord or chain shall touch ye or this your giantfriend," and he pointed to the great Zulu, who was painted a ghastly redfrom head to foot.

  Eagerly thanking the Mormon, all gladly gave the required parole, and,under this man's direction, they then carried Leigh into a room in thepublic offices and left him there with his wife and child; after which,by permission, Kenyon first attended to the wounds of his own party, andafterwards to those of the slavers, though the old Mormon cynicallyremarked to him that it would be much more merciful to let thescoundrels die at once.

  A curious meeting it was in Central Africa between the detective and hisquarry, when this amateur doctor came to the point of exercising hishealing art upon the fallen Zero.

  "Well, Monckton Bassett, we meet again," said Kenyon, coolly; "and nowlet me look at this head of yours, for I
should be sorry for you to gooff the ropes without Uncle Sam having a hand in the affair."

  For reply Zero hurled a fearful curse at the detective, and ordered himto begone, so Kenyon calmly left the scoundrel to himself.