Into the Unknown: A Romance of South Africa

by Lawrence Fletcher

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

  GUY FAWKES REDIVIVUS.

  All the following day Grenville rested and slept, and when the nightclosed in he saw with growing satisfaction that there was likely to be aheavy storm, and this in itself indicated the probable advent of therainy season at no very distant date.

  Not wishing to be delayed in any way, he set out early with Amaxosa, andby midnight, when the storm broke, had arrived within pistol-shot of thetown.

  By this time everywhere had grown dark as pitch, and looking up,Grenville saw that all the stars had disappeared, whilst at that verymoment the surrounding landscape as well as the town stood revealed in ablinding glare of lightning, instantly succeeded by a terrific clap ofthunder.

  Quickly gaining the cover of the walls, Grenville hastily donned hisprotective armour, exchanged weapons with the Zulu, much to thatworthy's astonishment, and then armed exactly as he had intended to be,and with a dozen spare cartridges in his pocket, commanded Amaxosa toreturn to the plateau as fast as he possibly could.

  The indignation of the Zulu knew no bounds.

  "Why," he said, "does my father distrust his faithful war-dog? Does hefear that when the time of danger comes his son will not be there? Hasmy father forgotten how the children of the Undi fought for him at thenarrow crossing by the River of Death, has he forgotten the battle ofthe rock, the fight in the great black cavern, or the mighty struggle atthe eastern bridge, where the red blood flowed in streams? Does he notremember how Amaxosa bore away the body of the Inkoos Winfield when hehad fallen by the bullets of the witch-finders, or how, with his ownhand and the box of lightning (Anglice bombshell), he slew five men anddestroyed their moving castle? Why does the Inkoos, my father, doubtme? Amaxosa the son of Undi has but one heart, which beats true withthe heart of his father; and the poor Zulu war-dog has but one body, butit would fain stand between the great white chief and the death he seeksto meet."

  Grenville was sincerely moved by this impassioned burst of feeling,exhibited by a man usually so dignified and self-contained, and it tookhim quite ten minutes before he could convince the chief of the wisdomof his plan; but when he had at last succeeded, and somewhat pacifiedhis friend by accepting the loan of his war-club, the Zulu raisedhimself to his full height, and shaking his spear at the city, deliveredhimself thus:--

  "Beware, witch-finders--beware, ye evil men! Touch but one hair uponthe head of my father, the great white chief, beloved of his faithfulchildren, and the sons of the Undi will rip open every fighting man inyour accursed land."

  Then, grasping Grenville's hand, he stalked moodily away, and the lastour friend saw of him, by the help of a vivid flash of lightning, was ashe slowly entered the cover half a mile off, walking in a heavy anddejected manner, with his head sunk upon his breast.

  And now our hero proceeded to effect his entry into the city; for if therain came on, as it usually does in these latitudes, in the form of avast sheet of water, the little river might become too much swollen forhim to obtain his usual safe and easy access.

  Had he been able to count upon the night being as dark as it proved tobe, and had the lightning not been so much in evidence, Grenville wouldgladly have taken the Zulu with him; but he well knew that where a whiteman might possibly pass undetected amongst a half-paralysed and whollyterror-stricken mob of his own colour, the black skin of his faithfulfriend would at once draw down upon him stern and unfailing punishment,or rather retribution.

  The thunder now sounded like one uninterrupted roll of heavy artillery,and the utter blackness of the atmosphere was cut by the almostincessant flashes of lightning, which, to our hero's discomfiture, keptthe whole countryside in a constant and brilliant state of illumination.

  Creeping carefully on, Grenville soon gained the welcome shadow of thehouses, and at this moment the storm broke with added fury, the windhowling as if all the fiends of hell were let loose, and, sweeping alongthe earth, carried with it a perfect avalanche of stones, leaves, andbranches. Blast followed blast, and crash succeeded crash, until, witha shock like an earthquake, two large buildings suddenly gave way andcame to the ground like houses of cards, crushing their wretched inmatesunder their ruins, and drawing half of East Utah to the scene of thecalamity.

  Silently gliding away like the spirit of evil, Grenville at lastapproached the public offices of the town, which consisted of a largerough building pierced with one small door below, at the rear, andentered from the front by a handsome flight of steps through a portal ofcommanding appearance.

  Towards the back door, however, Grenville directed his tortuous course,constantly hiding, yet cautiously and continuously approaching, until,hidden by a stone buttress, he stood within a dozen feet of the littledoor, and within half that distance of the guard pacing up and downbefore it with his musket on his shoulder, and from time to time castinguneasy glances at the sky. Waiting for the next flash, Grenville sprangupon the sentry and felled him like a log with a blow from Amaxosa'swar-club, and with a second blow from the same weapon burst open thedoor and dragged the man's body inside.

  The first drops of rain now began to fall, and in another moment thewater was coming down in sheets, and Grenville knew that for someminutes at least, the absence of the sentry was likely to remainunperceived.

  Striking a light, he found himself in a sort of low cellar, and seeinganother door before him, he burst this in, and, to his completesatisfaction, found himself exactly where he had hoped to be, yet fearedthe possibility of penetrating. There before his eyes lay piled upbarrel upon barrel of what--wine? No, gentle reader. RichardGrenville's desperate scheme was now realised beyond his fondest hopes,and he stood _in the powder magazine_ of East Utah.

  Grenville lost no time, but knocking in the heads of a number of barrelswith his club, he filled his hat with powder, and laid a thick trainacross the ground to the outer door; this operation, however, took somelittle time, for it had unfortunately to be performed entirely in thedark; and when our friend thought he had reached the door he wasconsiderably taken aback to find he was pouring powder on the dead faceof the hapless sentinel. Quietly striking a match, Grenville with theutmost caution inspected his work. He found the train perfect, and wasabout to leave the place, when a low horrified exclamation caused him toturn, and find himself confronted by several Mormons.

  These men were not slow to see through his intentions, and with an awfulyell rushed out of the place, and tried to close the door upon him.Grenville was, however, too quick for them, braining one man, who fellacross the door and blocked it open.

  The street beyond, he saw, was already alive with his foes, who wererushing away from him in every direction, and dashing outside he firedhis revolver into the train and flew along the street towards the river.For one instant the success of the plot hung upon a thread, and thatthread was the dead sentinel His death in point of fact almost saved theMormons from the fearful calamity which was now rushing madly upon them.

  The miserable man's blood had trickled along the floor and damped thepowder, which fizzed and sputtered in the gory stream, and for one briefinstant seemed to be extinguished; then a single spark caught the drymaterial beyond the tiny crimson rivulet, the serpentine flame spurtedacross the rooms in one lightning flash of fire, and in the next momentEast Utah was shaken to its foundations by the explosion of fiftybarrels of gunpowder, which rent the earth and seemed to dwarf intoutter insignificance the thunder of the heavens, which still pealed andcrashed overhead.

  For the succeeding moments nothing could be heard but the crash offalling houses, accompanied rather than succeeded by the awful cry of"Fire! Fire!" And almost immediately the whole city, or rather whatwas left of it, could be plainly seen in the fearful conflagration whichbroke out.

  Fortunate was it for the hapless Mormons that that night of terror was anight of storm, for had the tropic rain not stood their friend, everysoul in the place would have been left houseless and homeless; as itwas, however, the sheets of water which were teeming down, so
onextinguished the fires on every side, and the city once more settleddown into ominous and tangible darkness.

  The author of all this ruin was meantime speeding in the direction ofthe river, but as he turned the last corner, only a hundred yards fromthe water, he ran right into a mob of Mormons, to whom a vivid flash oflightning revealed his hated and now well-known personality. With ahoarse cry like the angry roar of wild beasts they went at him, lookingfor an easy victory, but planting his back against the wall Grenvilleused his revolver freely, laughing in their faces as they discharged athim gun after gun at point-blank range without penetrating his singulararmour. Then, taking advantage of the darkness which succeeded anunusually brilliant flash of lightning, he charged through them, killingtwo or three with his war-club, and then dived boldly into the stream,which was now boiling down its angry course towards the River of Death.Thither Grenville dared not go; against the stream he found itimpossible to swim; so, rather than be drowned like a dog, he sprang outof the water and again faced his enemies, determination in hiscountenance, strength and activity in every nerve of his body, butwithout a shadow of hope in his heart. Once more getting to the wall,Grenville fought desperately with his club, killing man after man, andthen, when he felt himself getting weak, pitched his revolver into theriver and again prepared for a final charge. At this moment, however, acowardly Mormon who had gained an adjacent roof, dropped a great pieceof rock full upon our hero's defenceless head, and he fell to the earthstunned and unconscious.

  When Grenville regained his senses, he found himself pinioned hand andfoot, and lying in a great hall, which was thickly packed with Mormonsof both sexes.

  Anxious to get an idea of his position he did not immediately open hiseyes, but he was keenly watched, and detecting him in the act of tryingto look through his half-open eyelids, Grenville's guards brutallyjerked him on to his feet, one of them calling out, "The prisoner hascome to, your Holiness." Pulling himself together, though feeling veryweak, our friend saw he was gazing down upon a perfect sea of faces, andthis multitude, as soon as he stood up, gave vent to one common roar ofvengeance and execration.

  Coolly turning his back upon them with a gesture of ineffable contempt,Grenville found himself face to face with the Mormon Trinity, and for afew moments the Holy Three gazed wonderingly upon this man who hadpenetrated their secret kingdom, worsted and defeated them at everyturn, held them up to the ridicule of their own people, slaughtered atleast one-fourth of the whole nation, and finally had, single-handed,almost entirely destroyed their town, and at one fell swoop wrested fromtheir grasp the precious gunpowder which was to have sustained anddefended them for many years to come.

  On his part, Grenville was quietly saying to himself that these threemen were very much what he had expected them to prove.

  There was one venerable old man, with snowy white hair; his age musthave been quite eighty years, and his countenance, though stern, had acertain appearance of benevolence upon it. The next man--his son beyonda doubt--was possessed of all his father's bad features without any ofthe good; taken all through, he had a cruel face and one which was,moreover, weak and vacillating, as well as sinister and sensual. Thethird member of this singular triumvirate was an enormous fellow,standing at least six feet three, and broad in proportion, a repulsivecountenance, with villainy, murder, and rapine written upon every lineof it--a man with the face of a satyr and the manners of a bear. Suchwas Ishmael Warden, the latter day Saint who clearly dominated theMormon Trinity in East Utah.

  For fully a minute Grenville waited the pleasure of his captors, andthen the oldest member of the Trinity addressed him.

  "What is your name, prisoner?" he asked.

  "Richard Grenville, a subject of her Britannic Majesty," was the answer,given in clear and contemptuous tones.

  "You are accused of the crime of wilful murder, and will be tried inthree days. Guards, remove prisoner."

  "And," bellowed the Satyr, "if he should escape, remember your life goesfor his."

  Grenville was then dragged away by his captors, who threw him into adamp underground cell, apparently cut out of the rock. Here, withoutfood, water, or light, they left him, and, fastening the door upon him,placed an armed sentry outside.

  As he was led away from the Common Hall, Grenville had noticed that thenight had become clear and fine again, and through the grated door hecould see the rays of silvery moonlight, and thought regretfully tohimself that it was now shimmering down upon the plateau in all itsradiant glory, and lighting up the anxious faces of the friends waitingfor one who would return to them no more.

  He thoroughly realised his awful position. The Mormon prophet's wordsmeant that in three days' time Richard Grenville would be but dust andashes, and that fearless and generous spirit of his would have returnedto the God who gave it.

  Even so, he had played for a desperate stake and won, but the victorywas to be paid for with his life; a light price, it seemed to him, inreturn for the practical destruction of the Mormon town and the perfectfuture security of his own friends.

  Grenville tried to engage the guard in conversation, but the surly brutebegan to whistle a tune instead of replying. Our hero then laid himselfdown on the rocky floor, and worn out with fatigue, and still weak fromthe effects of the blow he had received, slept soundly, until he wasaroused by the entrance of the guard in the morning, with breakfast forhim, which, it need hardly be said, was most acceptable.

  The door was left open whilst Grenville ate, and the guard, who had beenrelieved by an officer, supported by two subordinates, seemed to bequite a different class of man from the surly warrior of the previousnight. The new sentinel, in fact, commenced to chaff Grenville while heate, saying that he was surprised that a man of his ability, who hadkilled so many people, should have allowed himself to be floored with astone; but our friend laughingly responded that he never was remarkablefor being thick-headed.

  He then asked the officer when and how he was to depart this life.

  "Oh!" said the other, "don't be in a hurry, we've hardly begun to likeyou yet."

  And in this manner he fenced with all the questions put to him.

  "And now," said the Mormon, when Grenville had finished eating, "I amcommissioned to place these irons upon your hands and feet if you chooseto be at liberty in the Square here; but you are to have the option ofstaying in this black hole of a prison if you prefer it."

  Grenville gladly accepted the alternative of being fettered, thinking hemight as well see as much of the sun as he could while he had thechance.

  The day passed quietly enough; he was well fed and carefully guarded,but the men round him seemed decent people, and not at all of thebullying type.

  Just about tea-time, as Grenville was sitting listlessly thinking, thedull boom of a distant explosion broke upon his ear. The guards stoodstill, gazed inquiringly at one another, and at that moment anothersmothered report followed.

  Seeing Grenville smile, one of the men turned to him quickly, and askedhim what the joke was.

  "Why," replied he, "I was just wondering, when I heard the firstexplosion, how many of the men you sent against my friends this morningwould come back alive; but when I heard the second one, I came to thesatisfactory conclusion that not one of them would ever see East Utahagain."

  The guard looked angry for a moment, but then smiled and said, "You area bold man; however, we shall see."

  Soon after, Grenville was hurried away to his prison, and that night heheard wailing and lamentations in the city, and knew that he had guessedthe truth, that another fearful calamity had befallen the Mormons, andthat his friends at the plateau were now practically safe from furthermolestation.