Twice, three times, when we had gone a short distance, Livingstone
shouted Forrester's name. His powerful voice rang far through the
ravines, and struck against the rocks, rolling and reverberating in
their hollows like a blast fired in a deep mine; but no answer came.
I looked at my companion very nervously. He never spoke, but I saw him
gnaw his under lip till the blood ran down.
We had gone a hundred paces or so farther along a narrow path outside
the town. On our right the cliff fell almost abruptly toward the river.
Guy was a few paces in front, when suddenly there broke from his lips
such a sound as I have never heard from those of any mortal before or
since.
It is impossible to describe it. It was utterly involuntary, as if some
spirit had spoken within the man--a cry of horror and of unspeakable
wrath, such as might have burst from the chest of one of the Old-World
giants, when the rock fell from heaven that crushed him like a worm. The
Italians, used to every tone that can express passion, shrunk and
cowered back in terror.
Our eyes all followed the direction of his, that were staring down upon
a flat open space, clear from brush-wood, down in the hollow on our
right.
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