Never have I seen anything so stupendously awful--too awful even to be grand; for all nature was of one pitchy hue, only illumined at brief intervals by the white blinding lightning. Then down came the rain in sheets, as if the floodgates of some hundreds of Niagaras had been suddenly removed, changing the plain we had so lately traversed in a few seconds into an enormous lake. The Kaffir sat, his face hidden as much as possible to avoid the glaring light. Zenuta crouched in a corner, while Jack and I, save an occasional exclamation of wonder or awe, also remained silent, feeling it was no time to talk. Thus we remained until the storm seemed abating: the lightning had grown rarer, while the thunder was less loud, and we were beginning to congratulate ourselves upon its so speedily passing over, when, as if for a finale, a more awful flash than any of the previous ones again lit up the sky. So dazzling was the glare that, with an involuntary cry from all, we fell prostrate on our faces. The next instant a deafening uproar arose--no longer in the air, but about our ears. I believed the hill had been shaken to its base, and was sliding, rolling, crushing upon top of us, burying us alive. The sound lasted many minutes--to us it appeared hours; then suddenly a perfect stillness fell over everything, and after a while, recovering our breath and senses, we slowly raised our eyes and looked around. The sky was clear, the moon even at intervals shining forth; but how changed was the landscape it lighted up! The whole country was flooded with broad sheets of water, dotted near at hand by immense boulders, which had been rent from the hills around and above us. As I gazed I thought how easily such a rain, did it continue forty days and nights, might flood two worlds instead of one. Slowly, grasping his charm, Umatula now arose, seeing all danger past, and we followed his example. As I did so, however, I became aware that the tight grasp which Zenuta had taken of my hand did not relax, neither did she attempt to rise. With a vague terror I bent over her, trying to lift her up, and calling her by name. She did not move--she did not answer. I believed she had fainted, and eagerly bade Umatula and Jack come to my assistance, as, turning the poor girl on her side, I rested her head against my shoulder. Just then the moon shone out between two clouds, and its beams rested upon Zenuta's face. A cry of horror, of grief, escaped my lips, for, as I beheld the features plainly, I instantly read the fatal truth. She appeared but in a sleep; yet the half-closed mouth and eyes, the peculiar bluish hue of the dark skin, told too well the tale. Poor Zenuta was dead! Whether she had been struck by the last awful flash, or it had occurred through terror, her heart had ceased to beat in this world for ever.