The noise was deafening,--they could not hear each other speak unless by shouting at the top of their voices, and even then the sounds were rendered almost indistinct by the riotous uproar. Sigurd, however, who knew all the ins and outs of the place, sprang lightly on a jutting crag, and, putting both hands to his mouth, uttered a peculiar, shrill, and far-reaching cry. Clear above the turmoil of the restless waters, that cry was echoed back eight distinct times from the surrounding rocks and hills. Sigurd laughed triumphantly.
"You see!" he exclaimed, as he resumed his leadership of the party, "they all know me! They are obliged to answer me when I call--they dare not disobey!" And his blue eyes flashed with that sudden wild fire that generally foretold some access of his particular mania.
Errington saw this and said soothingly, "Of course not, Sigurd! No one would dream of disobeying you! See how we follow you to-day--we all do exactly what you tell us."
"We are sheep, Sigurd," added Lorimer lazily; "and you are the shepherd!"
Sigurd looked from one to the other half doubtingly, half cunningly. He smiled.
"Yes!" he said. "You will follow me, will you not? Up to the very top of the Fall?"
"By all means!" answered Sir Philip gaily. "Anywhere you choose to go!"
Sigurd seemed satisfied, and lapsing into the calm, composed manner which had distinguished him all day, he led the way as before, and they resumed their march, this time in silence, for conversation was well-nigh impossible. The nearer they came to the yet invisible Fall, the more thunderous grew the din--it was as though they approached some vast battle-field, where opposing armies were in full action, with all the tumult of cannonade and musketry. The ascent grew steeper and more difficult--at times the high barriers of rocks seemed almost impassable,--often they were compelled to climb over confused heaps of huge stones, through which the eddying water pushed its way with speed and fury,--but Sigurd's precision was never at fault,--he leaped crag after crag swiftly and skillfully, always lighting on a sure foothold, and guiding the others to do the same. At last, at a sharp turn of one of these rocky eminences, they perceived an enormous cloud of white vapor rising up like smoke from the earth, and twisting itself as it rose, in swaying, serpentine folds, as though some giant spirit-hand were shaking it to and fro like a long flowing veil in the air. Sigurd paused and pointed forward.