“Volcano, or not,” said I, “there are no suspicious noises now; neither smoke nor flame rises above it; nothing whatever threatens an eruption.” This was true. A profound silence reigned around us; and a perfectly clear sky shone overhead. We tasted the perfect calm of great altitudes. It was worth noting that the circumference of the huge wall was about twelve or fifteen hundred feet. As to the space enclosed within, we could scarce reckon that without knowing the thickness of the encompassing wall. The surroundings were absolutely deserted. Probably not a living creature ever mounted to this height, except the few birds of prey which soared high above us. Our watches showed three o’clock, and Mr. Smith cried in disgust, “What is the use of stopping here all day! We shall learn nothing more. We must make a start, Mr. Strock, if we want to get back to Pleasant Garden to-night.” I made no answer, and did not move from where I was seated; so he called again, “Come, Mr. Strock; you don’t answer.” In truth, it cut me deeply to abandon our effort, to descend the slope without having achieved my mission. I felt an imperious need of persisting; my curiosity had redoubled. But what could I do? Could I tear open this unyielding earth? Overleap the mighty cliff? Throwing one last defiant glare at the Great Eyrie, I followed my companions. The return was effected without great difficulty. We had only to slide down where we had so laboriously scrambled up. Before five o’clock we descended the last slopes of the mountain, and the farmer of Wildon welcomed us to a much needed meal. “Then you didn’t get inside?” said he. “No,” responded Mr. Smith, “and I believe that the inside exists only in the imagination of our country folk.” At half past eight our carriage drew up before the house of the Mayor of Pleasant Garden, where we passed the night. While I strove vainly to sleep, I asked myself if I should not stop there in the village and organize a new ascent. But what better chance had it of succeeding than the first? The wisest course was, doubtless, to return to Washington and consult Mr. Ward. So, the next day, having rewarded our two guides, I took leave of Mr. Smith at Morganton, and that same evening left by train for Washington. IV. A MEETING OF THE AUTOMOBILE CLUB Was the mystery of the Great Eyrie to be solved some day by chances beyond our imagining? That was known only to the future. And was the solution a matter of the first importance? That was beyond doubt, since the safety of the people of western Carolina perhaps depended upon it. Yet a fortnight after my return to Washington, public attention was wholly distracted from this problem by another very different in nature, but equally astonishing.