the old man did not seem to notice anything except the falling of the
waters. His eyes glowed with an intense light as he kept them fixed
upon the leaping and swirling columns below. His face was like the
face of a lover turned toward the object of his affection.

For some time the man stood there drinking in the scene before him.
Then he took a step forward which brought him perilously near the edge
of the steep rock. His lips moved though no sound could be heard for
the tumult of the falls which was rending the air. What connection had
such a man with his surroundings? No boor or clown was he, for the
simple dignity of face and manner marked him as one of Nature's true
gentlemen.

It was almost dark when he at last reluctantly left the rock and
entered the thick woods where a trail led away from the falls. Along
this he moved with the unerring instinct of one who had travelled it
often and was sure of his bearings. But ever and anon he paused to
listen to the sound of the falling waters which followed him like the
voice of a loved one urging him to return.

"Yes, you want me," he at length cried, as he once more paused. "I
hear your voice calling, and I know its meaning. Others need you, too,
but they do not know it. You have been calling to them for years, but
they have not understood your language. It was left for me to listen
and take heed. They will some day, and then you will show your power.
I can see what you will do, beautiful falls, and the changes which will
come to this fair land when your luring voice is heeded."

He stood for awhile as if entranced after uttering these mystic words.
Then he continued on his way and night wrapped more closely about him