hailed bullets
upon them from rifles, revolvers, and from the Mormons' own captured
guns, and the ground was thickly strewn with dead and dying men.

Volley after volley the attacking party fired, till at last their
salvoes dwindled down to a few sputtering shots, and then ceased
entirely. _The Mormons had exhausted their last kernel of powder_, and
now prepared to storm the plateau, sword in hand.

The matter fell out exactly as Amaxosa had foreseen, and when a full
hundred of the enemy were busy with their swords trying to cut into the
zareba, the Zulus plunged the two shells into the mass of living men,
which was promptly transformed into an awful heap of bleeding, groaning,
human pulp. A few wounded men tried to limp away, but the Zulus were
down the rock almost as soon as the shells, and of one hundred and fifty
men who had left the Mormon town that morning, not one returned to tell
the awful tale of shame and woe.

The wounded were soon put out of pain by the unconcerned Zulus, who then
brought up to the plateau a perfect mountain of weapons in the shape of
guns, spears, swords, and knives, all the time chanting victorious notes
over their fallen enemies, and adjuring their father, the mighty chief,
to smile upon his children.

As Leigh had supposed, the Mormons had entirely exhausted their powder
before they made the final charge which proved so fatal to themselves--
not a single grain of powder could be found in any of their flasks.
Thus ended another attempt of the Mormons upon the plateau; they had, as
Grenville had foreseen, no more stomach for such desperate work as this,
at present.

As soon as night fell, Amaxosa set out for East Utah, armed with
Grenville's revolvers, and determined if possible to discover what had
happened to his beloved chief.

Obtaining access to the town, as before, by the river, which was now
reduced to its normal state, he prowled about in the shade, running
awful risks, but hearing and seeing nothing, and was just about to leave
the place in despair, when observing a number of Mormons approaching, he
shrank back into a dark alley between two houses.

The band he sought to avoid was met at this point--in fact, directly
opposite to his hiding-place--by a detachment travelling in the opposite
direction, both parties stopping and entering into conversation.

The Zulu watched them like a lynx, but what was his astonishment and
even delight to behold the master whom he had be