Three Boys Part 49

There was the dull roar of the falls behind him, and then a loud shout, and either an echo or one in answer; but that was all; and a horrible feeling of misery and despair at his helplessness came over the lad, as he thought the worst, and of how terrible it would be to go back to the castle and tell the tale.

His first instinct prompted him to cast himself down upon the earth and yield to the sensation of despair, but his second was to go on and try and do something to help.

In this intent he looked wildly round, to see nothing but a wilderness of undergrowth, and in his excitement he dashed straight on, striking the hazel stems to right and left, and, stumbling and falling again and again, he ended by rolling and scrambling down a steep slope, to drop into what might have been some terrible chasm, but only, as it happened, a few feet, and, as he gathered himself up, it seemed that he had inadvertently hit upon the rough track by which he had ascended.

At the end of a minute he recognised a peculiar-looking patch of rock jutting out above him, and recalled how he had compared it to the head of a bullock as he had clambered up.

That was enough, and the rest of the descent proved comparatively easy, till he reached a spot where he could see on his right the foaming waters of the fall, and down below, on the left, a glint or two of the torrent, as it escaped from the lower basin and hurried along the deep ravine toward the sea.

He gazed wildly at the base of the fall, in the vain hope that he might catch sight of Kenneth clinging to some projecting stone; then he scanned the wild below, but he could see nothing of his companions.

There was the spot where Tavish and Long Shon had sat smoking, but they were gone, and there was no sign of Scoodrach. Nothing but the falling water, with its deep, musical, humming roar, and the grand picture of rock and tree made dim and distant-looking by the rising clouds of rainbow-tinted spray.

He shouted with all his might, but there was only a dull echo; and, after repeating his cry, and feeling that it was drowned by the deep roar, he gave one more despairing look round, and ran on downward for a few yards, but only to turn and almost retrace his steps by the rough zigzag track, when he felt a strange catching of the breath, and stopped short, just where, some distance below, a curve of the rus.h.i.+ng stream opened out before him, all white foam and glancing water, glistening and flas.h.i.+ng in the sun.

He had noticed it as he climbed upward with Kenneth and Scoodrach, and a strange sensation of delight had thrilled him. But the beauty was all gone, and he could see nothing now but the scene which seemed to check his breath and fill him with despair.

For there, at the foot of a glistening curve of water which seemed to leap from amidst a pile of black rocks, stood Tavish, bending forward.

Long Shon was below him, standing waist-deep, and holding on to prevent being swept away, while Scoodrach was many feet above, climbing to his right, and evidently scanning the stream.

"They think he's washed down there," cried Max aloud, "when he must be up yonder at the foot of the falls."

He shouted wildly, but his feeble voice would not penetrate to them as they stood amidst the racing water, and in his agony Max was in the act of starting to run again, when he saw Scoodrach throw up his hands, and directly after Tavish seemed to make a bound into the foam, where he fell and disappeared.

Max's mouth felt dry at this fresh misfortune, and he stood as if turned to stone, waiting to see the gillie reappear, which he did, but not where Max expected by fifty yards farther down the stream, where Long Shon stood, and, as the latter held on with one hand, he could be seen to stoop and catch at something in the water.

Max could hardly believe what he saw, as Tavish rose up high above Long Shon, when the pair slowly climbed out, the great forester with something beneath one arm.

The frozen feeling of helplessness pa.s.sed off, and Max ran on down the rough slope, nearly falling again and again in his eagerness to reach the spot where from time to time he could see the group, on a green bed of moss beneath some pendulous birches; and when at last he reached them, it was to find Kenneth lying upon his back, with his head and shoulders supported against Tavish as he knelt there; Scoodrach stooping and holding his hand; and Long Shon busily binding up a cut upon the lad's head, the blood from which had trickled down over one cheek.

"Is--is he dead?" cried Max hoa.r.s.ely.

There was no reply, and Max felt his heart seem to contract as he stood in the pool of water which had streamed down from the group.

"Na, na," said Tavish, suddenly thrusting away Long Shon's hand. "She'd petter let her pleed."

Long Shon looked at him wonderingly, but gave way.

"Maybe she shall. Puir laddie, ye canna dee like that."

But for a time it seemed as if poor Kenneth's race was run, so still and white he looked.

"The doctor! some one go for a doctor."

"There's nae doctor this side o' Stirling or Inverness," said Long Shon quietly. "Puir laddie! Was this your doing, Scoody?"

"Na, father; she tried to stop her," cried the boy piteously. "She wouldna stay. Is she trooned?"

"Trooned! nay, not she," cried Tavish exultantly. "Look at her een.

She chust gave ane wee bit blinkie. Bide a wee, laddie, and she'll be upon her legs again."

They watched and waited in a state of the greatest excitement, all but Scoodrach, who, after giving himself a shake like a water-dog, and wringing his kilt in front and behind, began to whistle in the most indifferent manner, and ended by walking coolly away, to the astonishment of all.

But they were too busy with Kenneth to pay any heed to the young gillie's eccentricities, no one heeding his disappearance, as the half-drowned boy's hands were chafed, and Tavish gently lowered his head till he could lay it on a tuft of heath.

There had been a quiver or two of the eyelids, as Tavish had said, and from time to time there was a faint fluttering of the pulses, but after these manifestations the poor fellow seemed to relapse, and Long Shon, who had been fidgeting and muttering against the forester's treatment, impatiently dashed his bonnet on the ground.

"Ye're a' wrang, Tavvy!" he exclaimed,--"ye're a' wrang! Lat me tak'

haud o' the laddie's heels, and let her hing doon my back wi' her heid close to the groon'."

"Hwhat for?" cried Tavish.

"Hwhat for?" cried Long Shon contemptuously. "Canna ye see that the puir bairn's fu' o' watter. Lat's turn her up, man, an' lat a' t'

watter rin oot o' her mooth. Here, stan' aside."

"Gin ye touch the laddie, Long Shon, I'll gie ye a ding atween the een as shall mak' ye see stars for a month. D'ye think I dinna ken that it would kill the bairn at ance?"

"Na!" growled Long Shon; "I've seen 'em do it wi' the trooned men after a wrack."

"Ay, and I've seen 'em dee wi' doing that same, Long Shon. D'ye think I dinna ken what I'm aboot?"

"Ay," cried Long Shon stoutly, as Tavish kept on pressing Kenneth's ribs with mighty force and letting them go.

"Ye're glad enow to come and lat me doctor ye, though, man. Hing the puir laddie by his heels to lat the watter oot! Maun, ane wad think ye were aboot to haunle a stag, and cut her up to send to toon. Hah! see him the noo! see him the noo! Kenneth laddie--Kenneth, my bonnie chiel'! Light o' my een, my bonnie young Chief! Hech! Hech! Hech for ta Mackhai! Look at her the noo!"

Tavish had sprung up, uttering a wild yell, leaping off the ground, and waving his bonnet in the air. For Kenneth had opened his eyes, gazed wonderingly about, and then fixed them on Max, as he knelt down and took his hand, and smiled.

"What is it?" he said feebly. "What's the matter?"

Max was choking. A great ball seemed to be rising in his throat, and he had to get up hastily and turn away to hide his emotion.

"I--don't quite--What's the matter, Tavvy?"

"Matter, my bonnie laddie!" cried the great forester, dropping on his knees and placing his hands tenderly on the injured brow; "on'y a wee bit scratch on the heid. Gie's the cloth, Shon lad, and I'll bind it up. Ye had a dip i' the watter, but ye're a' richt the noo."

"Yes, I'm all right now," said Kenneth feebly; and he smiled faintly in the great forester's face, as the great rough fellow bound up his brow as tenderly as a woman.

Max had drawn back, and, as soon as the two men's attention was taken up, he crept round behind a clump of the hazels, and, as soon as he was well alone, the pent-up emotion would have vent, and, sobbing wildly, he dropped upon his knees and covered his face with his hands, repeating the prayer of thanksgiving that rose to his lips:

"Thank G.o.d! Thank G.o.d!"

Then he started to his feet, ashamed of his emotion, dreading lest any one should have seen his position and heard his words, for a low, hoa.r.s.e moan seemed to come from farther in the little patch of woodland.

Was there some one else hurt? he thought; and, taking a few steps in the direction, he came suddenly upon Scoodrach at full length upon the moss, face downwards and buried in the soft green growth, while his hands were clutching his shortly-cut hair behind, and his shoulders heaved as he moaned forth,--

"She'll never hantle a poat acain! she'll never rin wi' her ower the hills! Maister--Maister Ken, she's deid, she's deid!"

"No, no, Scood!" cried Max excitedly. "He's better! He has just come to!"