, and Grenville once again casting a longing
glance down the valley, and at the now sinking sun, set his teeth, and
prepared to die hard.

See, they come! Now to it, good rifles. Handsomely done, Leigh; shell
after shell, brave Grenville. Ha! there goes Warden with a bullet
through his brain. Well aimed, Dora Winfield! That shot has settled
many an old score of thy dear father's.

Alas! alas! all is lost. They are up--they touch the very plateau, when
Grenville again drives them back with a terrific charge, crying
out--"Hurrah, old man; bear up another moment--look yonder." Leigh
looks, and so do the Mormons, and with one accord they turn and fly down
the rock--and why? Out yonder, under the setting sun, what do they
see?--what do they hear?

Woe! woe! woe! to the Mormon host, for up the valley, at a long slinging
trot, comes the crack regiment of the famous warriors of the Undi, led
on to the charge by Amaxosa, the chief of their ancient house. The
Saints form up in square against the rocks, heedless of their white foes
above, as they try to meet the resistless charge of the Zulu impi, and
stem the awful torrent which rolls up in a dark compact tide and flings
itself upon them, even as the surf dashes itself against, against, up,
up--ay, and right over the rocky shore. Then the awful battle-shout of
the Undi is raised, and before the sun sets red in the western sky the
entire Mormon army has been annihilated, and the victorious Zulu chief
is grasping the hand of his "great white father," whom he introduces to
his brother-officers as the man who originated this mighty scheme of
stern retribution and wholesale slaughter.

The Zulus respectfully take Grenville's hand in turn, and gathering
round our hero--whose magnificent exploits their chief has related to
them, and whom they worship in consideration of the hundreds of bodies
piled up on the slopes of the plateau--they give a tremendous shout, and
announce that he has been elected their brother and a perpetual chief of
the Sons of the Undi, and that his name henceforth amongst them will be
"T'chaka, the great white father of his faithful people."

As the little party of friends sat over their fire at the plateau that
night, whilst their sable allies kept watch below, Grenville told the
whole thrilling story of his plunge into the River of Death.

Being a practised diver and swimmer, he had gone into the gulf feet
foremost; but dropping from such a fearfu