However, when it is a matter of real need with me, I trust I shall
never be backward, being resolute by nature and well-trained in bodily
exercise. Where James Bruck went, I was determined to go, also; though
it might cost me some uncomfortable falls. But it was not the same with
the first magistrate of Morganton, less young, less vigorous, larger,
stouter, and less persistent than we others. Plainly he made every
effort, not to retard our progress, but he panted like a seal, and soon
I insisted on his stopping to rest.
In short, it was evident that the ascent of the Great Eyrie would
require far more time than we had estimated. We had expected to reach
the foot of the rocky wall before eleven o’clock, but we now saw that
mid-day would still find us several hundred feet below it.
Toward ten o’clock, after repeated attempts to discover some more
practicable route, after numberless turnings and returnings, one of the
guides gave the signal to halt. We found ourselves at last on the upper
border of the heavy wood. The trees, more thinly spaced, permitted us a
glimpse upward to the base of the rocky wall which constituted the true
Great Eyrie.
“Whew!” exclaimed Mr. Smith, leaning against a mighty pine tree, “a
little respite, a little repose, and even a little repast would not go
badly.”
“We will rest an hour,” said I.
“Yes; after working our lungs and our legs, we will make our stomachs
work.”
We were all agreed on this point. A rest would certainty freshen us.
Our only cause for inquietude was now the appearance of the precipitous
slope above us. We looked up toward one of those bare strips called in
that region, slides. Amid this loose earth, these yielding stones, and
these abrupt rocks there was no roadway.
Harry Horn said to his comrade, “It will not be easy.”
“Perhaps impossible,” responded Bruck.
Their comments caused me secret uneasiness. If I returned without even
having scaled the mountain, my mission would be a complete failure,
without speaking of the torture to my curiosity. And when I stood again
before Mr. Ward, shamed and confused, I should cut but a sorry figure.
We opened our knapsacks and lunched moderately on bread and cold meat.
Our repast finished, in less than half an hour, Mr. Smith sprang up
eager to push forward once more. James Bruck took the lead; and we had
only to follow him as best we could.
We advanced slowly. Our guides did not attempt to conceal their doubt
and hesitation. Soon Horn left us and went far ahead to spy out which
road promised most chance of success.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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