shadows which enwrapped the forest were not so
heavy. The lingering light of departing day was still in the west and
touched this part of the highway with its faint glow. It brought out
into clear relief the silhouette of the old man as he stood there with
his right hand placed to his ear so as not to miss the least sound
drifting down the valley.

So intent was he upon what he heard that he did not notice the sounds
of approaching footsteps, so when a man stopped a few yards away and
watched him curiously, he was completely unaware of his presence.
"Ring on, sweet waters," he cried. "Your voice follows me no matter
how far I go. I alone can understand your language, and know what you
are saying. All are deaf but me. They hear but do not know your
meaning." He ceased, and again listened for a few seconds.

A strange half-mocking laugh startled him, and caused him to look
quickly around. Seeing that he was observed, he was about to hurry
away, when a man stepped forward.

"Pardon me," he began. "I did not mean to offend you. But your words
seem so strange, that I could not help laughing."

"And were you listening to the voice?" the old man eagerly asked. "Do
the falling waters speak to you as they do to me? Is that why you are
here?"

"Yes, I hear them," was the reply. "But they do not bring any special
message to my mind."

"And they do not tell you of power, of the wonderful things they are
ready and willing to do when men will heed what they are saying?"

"No, I can't say that they do. They make a noise up there among the
trees, but I do not know what they are saying."

"Strange, strange," and the old man placed his hand to his forehead.
"You are like all the rest, then. You hear but you do not understand."

"What do you hear?" the newcomer asked, thinking that he was talking to
a weak-minded creature.

"I hear great things, which will be for the welfare of the whole
community. The waters tell me what they will do. They will make life
worth living. They will give light and power to the people all along
the river and revolutionise their daily tasks. Instead of hard labour
by the sweat of the brow, the waters will do the work. People will be
happy, and have time for the beautiful things of life. Grinding toil
and sorrow will be banished forever."

"Umph! So that is what you hear, eh? What is the good of hearing such
a voice, if you have no power to make it come true?"

"But the peo