In brief was not this the site of an ancient volcano, one which had
slept through ages, but whose inner fires might yet reawake? Might
not the Great Eyrie reproduce in its neighborhood the violence of
Mount Krakatoa or the terrible disaster of Mont Pelee? If there were
indeed a central lake, was there not danger that its waters,
penetrating the strata beneath, would be turned to steam by the
volcanic fires and tear their way forth in a tremendous explosion,
deluging the fair plains of Carolina with an eruption such as that of
1902 in Martinique?

Indeed, with regard to this last possibility there had been certain
symptoms recently observed which might well be due to volcanic
action. Smoke had floated above the mountain and once the country
folk passing near had heard subterranean noises, unexplainable
rumblings. A glow in the sky had crowned the height at night.

When the wind blew the smoky cloud eastward toward Pleasant Garden, a
few cinders and ashes drifted down from it. And finally one stormy
night pale flames, reflected from the clouds above the summit, cast
upon the district below a sinister, warning light.

In presence of these strange phenomena, it is not astonishing that
the people of the surrounding district became seriously disquieted.
And to the disquiet was joined an imperious need of knowing the true
condition of the mountain. The Carolina newspapers had flaring
headlines, "The Mystery of Great Eyrie!" They asked if it was not
dangerous to dwell in such a region. Their articles aroused curiosity
and fear--curiosity among those who being in no danger themselves
were interested in the disturbance merely as a strange phenomenon of