"Yoh!" and, overcome by the terrible nature of the injury the Zulu remained dumb.
"Say nothing to her, for it will soon be morning, and she must stand in the eye and watch. Bind this handkerchief about my eyes."
"I cannot--my arm is broken; but I will send Klaas with water. It is bad--this thing that has happened. It would have been better had you let me go out on the ledge."
"And your arm is broken," muttered Hume. "We owe our lives to her, and the mountain is slipping away."
Sirayo caught him, and laid him in a corner of the rock, then went down rapidly to the cave, where he called to Klaas.
"Where is he?" asked Laura.
"He is tired; moreover, he says the morning is near at hand, when you will stand in the place above."
"To see the Golden Rock," she murmured. "At last; but at what cost of suffering!"
"What do you say about the rock?" asked Webster, sitting up suddenly.
"Are you better?" she asked gently.
"Ay, except that my head feels strangely light. Where is Hume?"
"He has been watching through the night, and is still out on the ledge."
"Good fellow. I will take his watch when I am well." And with a sigh he sank back on to the couch to sleep again.
A faint smile hovered about her lips, then she bound Sirayo"s damaged arm, and at last, drawing her blanket over her, she sank into a profound slumber.
On the rock above, Klaas put a bandage round his master"s injured eyes, gave him water, and made a pillow for his head. Sirayo went out on the ledge again to keep watch, bearing his injury with stoic indifference, and grimly bent on doing his duty.
"Sit with your face to the sunrise, Klaas," whispered Hume, "and when you see the sky turn red bring your mistress here."
"Eweh, my master."
So they sat in the darkness and silence deep and brooding.
"Do you sleep, Klaas?"
"Neh, sieur."
"I feel the touch of the morning wind."
"The stars are white, all but one that shines red."
"The morning star. The sun will soon be up. Are the clouds rising, do you think?"
"The sky shines like the eye of a pool when the moon looks on it."
"And the mist; look below."
"It is black below, sieur."
The minutes went slowly by.
"It must be time," he muttered. "What noise is that?"
"Birds flying over. They smell the morning; and the buck will now take his stand at the edge of the kloof, to catch the first warmth of the sun. Ayi; the red line spreads along the sky."
"Call your mistress!" Hume cried. "The moment is at hand!" he murmured; "and I--I will not see this wonder."
Presently she came and stood by him.
"I am here, Frank."
"Stand in the opening above, with your face to the west, and look below to your right. At the first ray of the sun you should see the light on the Golden Rock."
"Am I to stand there alone," she said, "at this moment we have looked forward to so intently?"
"Where is Webster?" he asked impatiently.
"He is still weak and asleep. And you, Frank--I can see you have been wounded."
"For Heaven"s sake!" he said, almost fiercely, "take your stand there.
I am all right, but knocked up."
She sighed, and stepped into the embrasure, and stood there waiting, with an oppression at her heart that robbed the moment of all its expected joy. The two natives sat near, calm and unmoved, perhaps marvelling at the strange ways of these restless white people.
"What do you see?" asked Hume anxiously, to make her talk, so that she should not hear him moan with the pain he suffered.
"I see the rocks on my right, the outlines of the mountains beyond, a tremulous light around, but below it is jet black. No--there is a faint luminous track winding through the blackness."
"That is the layer of mist over the river."
"There is a glow on the summits of the distant mountains; and, oh! above me, on the rocks, there is the reflection as from fire. It is the sunlight streaming, and it stretches out, fan-shaped, pouring its radiance down into the darkness in countless quivering threads of silver."
"Follow that gleam," he cried; "don"t let your gaze wander."
"It is shivered by a projecting rock on the mountain side," she continued; "but the centre broadens out and flows on deeper and deeper, the darkness flying before it, and now there is a lake lying far below; no, it is land, I think--rolling prairie, and oh!"
"What--what?"
"Come and look at this--a gleaming spot far off, that glows like the heart of a furnace. Give me your hand."
"No; I am tired. Laura, that is the rock; look well at it."
"Is that the rock? it glows, it flashes back the light. There is a pale radiance that quivers above and around, and a wide belt of purple about its base--a belt of colour that widens, contracts, and coils upon itself. Purple--no, it is not purple; it is like a band of opal; now "tis red, blood-red," and her voice sank to an awed whisper, "and the yellow flame above shines wonderfully."
"Mawoh," muttered Klaas.