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.
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