"What?"
"I do not know."
Although the eye did not yet reveal the peril that Thaouka divined, the ear could already detect it. A low murmur, like the sound of a rising tide, was heard as from the limit of the horizon. The wind blew in damp gusts laden with spray; the birds, as if fleeing from some unknown phenomenon, shot swiftly through the air; and the horses, wading to their knees, felt the first impulse of the current. Soon a mingled roar, like bellowing, neighing, and bleating, resounded half a mile to the south, and immense herds appeared, tumbling, rising, and rushing, a confused mass of terrified beasts, and fled by with frightful rapidity. It was scarcely possible to distinguish them in the midst of the clouds of spray dashed up by their flight.
"The flood! the flood!" replied Thalcave, spurring his horse towards the north.
"Quick! quick!" cried Thalcave, in a piercing voice.
"What is it?" said Paganel.