“That is so,” said the guide, Harry Horn. “I have tried it myself.” “Perhaps,” suggested I, “the weather was unfavorable.” “On the contrary, Mr. Strock, it was unusually clear. But the wall of the Great Eyrie on that side rose so high, it completely hid the interior.” “Forward,” cried Mr. Smith. “I shall not be sorry to set foot where no person has ever stepped, or even looked, before.” Certainly on this day the Great Eyrie looked tranquil enough. As we gazed upon it, there rose from its heights neither smoke nor flame. Toward five o’clock our expedition halted at the Wildon farm, where the tenants warmly welcomed their landlord. The farmer assured us that nothing notable had happened about the Great Eyrie for some time. We supped at a common table with all the people of the farm; and our sleep that night was sound and wholly untroubled by premonitions of the future. On the morrow, before break of day, we set out for the ascent of the mountain. The height of the Great Eyrie scarce exceeds five thousand feet. A modest altitude, often surpassed in this section of the Alleghanies. As we were already more than three thousand feet above sea level, the fatigue of the ascent could not be great. A few hours should suffice to bring us to the crest of the crater. Of course, difficulties might present themselves, precipices to scale, clefts and breaks in the ridge might necessitate painful and even dangerous detours. This was the unknown, the spur to our attempt. As I said, our guides knew no more than we upon this point. What made me anxious, was, of course, the common report that the Great Eyrie was wholly inaccessible. But this remained unproven. And then there was the new chance that a fallen block had left a breach in the rocky wall. “At last,” said Mr. Smith to me, after lighting the first pipe of the twenty or more which he smoked each day, “we are well started. As to whether the ascent will take more or less time—” “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?”