What Happened In The Mountains

: The Master Of The World

If I speak of myself in this story, it is because I have been deeply

involved in its startling events, events doubtless among the most

extraordinary which this twentieth century will witness. Sometimes I

even ask myself if all this has really happened, if its pictures

dwell in truth in my memory, and not merely in my imagination. In my

position as head inspector in the federal police department at

Washington, urged on oreover by the desire, which has always been

very strong in me, to investigate and understand everything which is

mysterious, I naturally became much interested in these remarkable

occurrences. And as I have been employed by the government in various

important affairs and secret missions since I was a mere lad, it also

happened very naturally that the head of my department placed In my

charge this astonishing investigation, wherein I found myself

wrestling with so many impenetrable mysteries.



In the remarkable passages of the recital, it is important that you

should believe my word. For some of the facts I can bring no other

testimony than my own. If you do not wish to believe me, so be it. I

can scarce believe it all myself.



The strange occurrences began in the western part of our great

American State of North Carolina. There, deep amid the Blueridge

Mountains rises the crest called the Great Eyrie. Its huge rounded

form is distinctly seen from the little town of Morganton on the

Catawba River, and still more clearly as one approaches the mountains

by way of the village of Pleasant Garden.



Why the name of Great Eyrie was originally given this mountain by the

people of the surrounding region, I am not quite Sure It rises rocky

and grim and inaccessible, and under certain atmospheric conditions

has a peculiarly blue and distant effect. But the idea one would

naturally get from the name is of a refuge for birds of prey, eagles

condors, vultures; the home of vast numbers of the feathered tribes,

wheeling and screaming above peaks beyond the reach of man. Now, the

Great Eyrie did not seem particularly attractive to birds; on the

contrary, the people of the neighborhood began to remark that on some

days when birds approached its summit they mounted still further,

circled high above the crest, and then flew swiftly away, troubling

the air with harsh cries.



Why then the name Great Eyrie? Perhaps the mount might better have

been called a crater, for in the center of those steep and rounded

walls there might well be a huge deep basin. Perhaps there might even

lie within their circuit a mountain lake, such as exists in other

parts of the Appalachian mountain system, a lagoon fed by the rain

and the winter snows.



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

nature, fear in those who were likely to be the victims if a

catastrophe actually occurred. Those more immediately threatened were

the citizens of Morganton, and even more the good folk of Pleasant

Garden and the hamlets and farms yet closer to the mountain.



Assuredly it was regrettable that mountain climbers had not

previously attempted to ascend to the summit of the Great Eyrie. The

cliffs of rock which surrounded it had never been scaled. Perhaps

they might offer no path by which even the most daring climber could

penetrate to the interior. Yet, if a volcanic eruption menaced all

the western region of the Carolinas, then a complete examination of

the mountain was become absolutely necessary.



Now before the actual ascent of the crater, with its many serious

difficulties, was attempted, there was one way which offered an

opportunity of reconnoitering the interior, with out clambering up

the precipices. In the first days of September of that memorable

year, a well-known aeronaut named Wilker came to Morganton with his

balloon. By waiting for a breeze from the east, he could easily rise

in his balloon and drift over the Great Eyrie. There from a safe

height above he could search with a powerful glass into its deeps.

Thus he would know if the mouth of a volcano really opened amid the

mighty rocks. This was the principal question. If this were settled,

it would be known if the surrounding country must fear an eruption at

some period more or less distant.



The ascension was begun according to the programme suggested. The

wind was fair and steady; the sky clear; the morning clouds were

disappearing under the vigorous rays of the sun. If the interior of

the Great Eyrie was not filled with smoke, the aeronaut would be able

to search with his glass its entire extent. If the vapors were

rising, he, no doubt, could detect their source.



The balloon rose at once to a height of fifteen hundred feet, and

there rested almost motionless for a quarter of an hour. Evidently

the east wind, which was brisk upon the Surface of the earth, did not

make itself felt at that height. Then, unlucky chance, the balloon

was caught in an adverse current, and began to drift toward the east.

Its distance from the mountain chain rapidly increased. Despite all

the efforts of the aeronaut, the citizens of Morganton saw the

balloon disappear on the wrong horizon. Later, they learned that it

had landed in the neighborhood of Raleigh, the capital of North

Carolina.



This attempt having failed, it was agreed that it should be tried

again under better conditions. Indeed, fresh rumblings were heard

from the mountain, accompanied by heavy clouds and wavering

glimmerings of light at night. Folk began to realize that the Great

Eyrie was a serious and perhaps imminent source of danger. Yes, the

entire country lay under the threat of some seismic or volcanic

disaster.



During the first days of April of that year, these more or less vague

apprehensions turned to actual panic. The newspapers gave prompt echo

to the public terror. The entire district between the mountains and

Morganton was sure that an eruption was at hand.



The night of the fourth of April, the good folk of Pleasant Garden

were awakened by a sudden uproar. They thought that the mountains

were falling upon them. They rushed from their houses, ready for

instant flight, fearing to see open before them some immense abyss,

engulfing the farms and villages for miles around.



The night was very dark. A weight of heavy clouds pressed down upon

the plain. Even had it been day the crest of the mountains would have

been invisible.



In the midst of this impenetrable obscurity, there was no response to

the cries which arose from every side. Frightened groups of men,

women, and children groped their way along the black roads in wild

confusion. From every quarter came the screaming voices: "It is an

earthquake!" "It is an eruption!" "Whence comes it?" "From the Great

Eyrie!"



Into Morganton sped the news that stones, lava, ashes, were raining

down upon the country.



Shrewd citizens of the town, however, observed that if there were an

eruption the noise would have continued and increased, the flames

would have appeared above the crater; or at least their lurid

reflections would have penetrated the clouds. Now, even these

reflections were no longer seen. If there had been an earthquake, the

terrified people saw that at least their houses had not crumbled

beneath the shock. It was possible that the uproar had been caused by

an avalanche, the fall of some mighty rock from the summit of the

mountains.



An hour passed without other incident. A wind from the west sweeping

over the long chain of the Blueridge, set the pines and hemlocks

wailing on the higher slopes. There seemed no new cause for panic;

and folk began to return to their houses. All, however, awaited

impatiently the return of day.



Then suddenly, toward three o'clock in the morning, another alarm!

Flames leaped up above the rocky wall of the Great Eyrie. Reflected

from the clouds, they illuminated the atmosphere for a great

distance. A crackling, as if of many burning trees, was heard.



Had a fire spontaneously broken out? And to what cause was it due?

Lightning could not have started the conflagration; for no thunder

had been heard. True, there was plenty of material for fire; at this

height the chain of the Blueridge is well wooded. But these flames

were too sudden for any ordinary cause.



"An eruption! An eruption!"



The cry resounded from all sides. An eruption! The Great Eyrie was

then indeed the crater of a volcano buried in the bowels of the

mountains. And after so many years, so many ages even, had it

reawakened? Added to the flames, was a rain of stones and ashes about

to follow? Were the lavas going to pour down torrents of molten fire,

destroying everything in their passage, annihilating the towns, the

villages, the farms, all this beautiful world of meadows, fields and

forests, even as far as Pleasant Garden and Morganton?



This time the panic was overwhelming; nothing could stop it. Women

carrying their infants, crazed with terror, rushed along the eastward

roads. Men, deserting their homes, made hurried bundles of their most

precious belongings and set free their livestock, cows, sheep, pigs,

which fled in all directions. What disorder resulted from this

agglomeration, human and animal, under darkest night, amid forests,

threatened by the fires of the volcano, along the border of marshes

whose waters might be upheaved and overflow! With the earth itself

threatening to disappear from under the feet of the fugitives! Would

they be in time to save themselves, if a cascade of glowing lava came

rolling down the slope of the mountain across their route?



Nevertheless, some of the chief and shrewder farm owners were not

swept away in this mad flight, which they did their best to restrain.

Venturing within a mile of the mountain, they saw that the glare of

the flames was decreasing. In truth it hardly seemed that the region

was immediately menaced by any further upheaval. No stones were being

hurled into space; no torrent of lava was visible upon the slopes; no

rumblings rose from the ground. There was no further manifestation of

any seismic disturbance capable of overwhelming the land.



At length, the flight of the fugitives ceased at a distance where

they seemed secure from all danger. Then a few ventured back toward

the mountain. Some farms were reoccupied before the break of day.



By morning the crests of the Great Eyrie showed scarcely the least

remnant of its cloud of smoke. The fires were certainly at an end;

and if it were impossible to determine their cause, one might at

least hope that they would not break out again.



It appeared possible that the Great Eyrie had not really been the

theater of volcanic phenomena at all. There was no further evidence

that the neighborhood was at the mercy either of eruptions or of

earthquakes.



Yet once more about five o'clock, from beneath the ridge of the

mountain, where the shadows of night still lingered, a strange noise

swept across the air, a sort of whirring, accompanied by the beating

of mighty wings. And had it been a clear day, perhaps the farmers

would have seen the passage of a mighty bird of prey, some monster of

the skies, which having risen from the Great Eyrie sped away toward

the east.