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 rushing stream opened out before him, all white foam and glancing water, glistening and flashing 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.”