“In any case, Mr. Smith,” interrupted I, “you and I are fully resolved to pursue our quest to the end.”
“Fully resolved, Mr. Strock.”
“My chief has charged me to snatch the secret from this demon of the Great Eyrie.”
“We will snatch it from him, willing or unwilling,” vowed Mr. Smith, calling Heaven to witness. “Even if we have to search the very bowels of the mountain.”
“As it may happen, then,” said I, “that our excursion will be prolonged beyond today, it will be well to look to our provisions.”
“Be easy, Mr. Strock; our guides have food for two days in their knapsacks, besides what we carry ourselves. Moreover, though I left my brave Nisko at the farm, I have my gun. Game will be plentiful in the woods and gorges of the lower part of the mountain, and perhaps at the top we shall find a fire to cook it, already lighted.”
“Already lighted, Mr. Smith?”
“And why not, Mr. Strock? These flames! These superb flames, which have so terrified our country folk! Is their fire absolutely cold, is no spark to be found beneath their ashes? And then, if this is truly a crater, is the volcano so wholly extinct that we cannot find there a single ember? Bah! This would be but a poor volcano if it hasn’t enough fire even to cook an egg or roast a potato. Come, I repeat, we shall see! We shall see!”
At that point of the investigation I had, I confess, no opinion formed. I had my orders to examine the Great Eyrie. If it proved harmless, I would announce it, and people would be reassured. But at heart, I must admit, I had the very natural desire of a man possessed by the demon of curiosity. I should be glad, both for my own sake, and for the renown which would attach to my mission if the Great Eyrie proved the center of the most remarkable phenomena—of which I would discover the cause.
Our ascent began in this order. The two guides went in front to seek out the most practicable paths. Elias Smith and I followed more leisurely. We mounted by a narrow and not very steep gorge amid rocks and trees. A tiny stream trickled downward under our feet. During the rainy season or after a heavy shower, the water doubtless bounded from rock to rock in tumultuous cascades. But it evidently was fed only by the rain, for now we could scarcely trace its course. It could not be the outlet of any lake within the Great Eyrie.