"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.

After an hour of climbing, the slope became so steep that we had to