the better part of valour, and after turning
off the bridge had come at a slinging trot all the way to Grenville's
position, which, as we have already seen, they reached just in the very
nick of time.

When the trio had put in nearly two hours' solid work, poor Grenville
grew faint with fatigue, exposure, and loss of blood. The grey ghostly
mists of dawn were now hanging over the party on every side; but, as far
as Amaxosa could judge, they were still an hour's journey from the rock,
and as the Mormons might have sent a fast detachment by the western
bridge, it behoved our friends to lose no time.

For some way the faithful Zulus, themselves nearly dead beat, half
supported, half carried Grenville, only to find, when they spoke to him,
that he was fast asleep on his feet; laying him gently down, the pair
looked at each other as if wondering what to do, when suddenly a
colossal figure seemed to burst out of the mist and dash right down upon
them at full speed; in one instant the Zulus sprang over their fallen
chief and raised their spears to meet the foe, but all at once Myzukulwa
lowered his weapon quietly. "Ow! Inkoos," he said. "Ow!"

The new arrival was Alf Leigh, riding the quagga, which had shortly
before carried the lovely Rose of Sharon. Seeing his cousin's
motionless and bloodstained body, he threw himself off the animal and
fell on his knees beside it. "Dick! Dick! my poor old Dick--dead!
dead! dead! Oh, God! oh, God! what shall I do? Would I had died for
thee, my dear old Dick!"

"Stay, Inkoos," said Amaxosa gently. "My father the lion-hearted chief
is not dead; he does but sleep the sleep of the wounded and the weary.
At yonder bridge, by the dark River of Death, did the sons of Undi find
their father, the mighty warrior, surrounded by heaps upon heaps of dead
and dying men, and also by men yet living who thirsted for his blood;
but his faithful war-dogs chased away these evil ones; even as the chaff
they flew before the fierce wind; but they were not, for the sons of
Undi slew them. And but now, as you came, had we laid the Inkoos our
father on the grass, for he sleeps a sleep of weariness, of cold, of
hunger, and of blood; and we, his weary children, are too worn to carry
him; yet if the Inkoos will take our father on the horse, we will aid
him gladly."

And so the noble fellows did; and Leigh, with fervent thanks to Heaven
for the miraculous escape of his beloved cousin, lifted him on to t