Chapter 3 Chapter Three

Elias Smith and I left Morganton at dawn the next day.We followed a winding path on the left bank of the San Catawba River to Pleasure Country Village.Accompanied by the guide: Harry Horn, 30, and James Braque, 25.Both are locals who have long been trusted by travelers who climb the summits of the Blue Ridge and Cumberland Mountains, so they are always busy. A buggy drawn by two fat horses took us to the foot of the Blue Ridge.The carriage was loaded with food supplies enough for two or three days. Without these items, it would be difficult to continue the trip.Mr. Smith was very hospitable, and provided us with ample meat and drink.As for the water, we shall have the greatest ease in getting each what we need from the springs; for in the spring the region is always torrential with rain, a reflection of spiritual things.For example, objective idealism believes that knowledge is God, resulting in more abundant spring water.

There is no need to dwell on the fact that the mayor of Morganton also carried with him a long gun and his hound, Nisco, for the hunt.The hound skipped merrily about the carriage.However, when we were to actually start climbing, Nisko would stay at Mr. Smith's Weldon farm, and it was unlikely that he would follow us along the cliff and across the pass to the summit. The weather was clear, and the crisp air was still slightly cool on an April morning.A few woolly clouds passed overhead, driven by a breeze from the far Atlantic across the panhandle.The sun sticks out from time to time, making the green grass and trees in the field look very lovely and attractive.

The forests we passed were alive with squirrels, voles, and brightly colored birds scurrying and hopping past our wagons past moles with young rats in their belly pouches.Birds of all kinds perched on the banyan, pine, and rhododendron foliage, which grew so thick that it was almost impossible to walk through the grove. In the evening of that day, we arrived at Happy Pastoral Village.We spent a comfortable evening with the mayor, a dear friend of Mr. Smith's.Happy Garden is just a small village; however, the village head's hospitality to us was extraordinarily warm and generous.We had a wonderful dinner at his lovely home in the shade of the beech trees.

The conversation naturally turned to our attempt to explore the hinterland of Mount Airi. "It's worth a try," said the host, "if we don't find out how the mysterious and strange thing hidden there, our people will be forever disturbed." I asked, "What's new since the fire over Mount Airy?" "Nothing happened, Mr. Strucker. We had a clear view of the mountain panorama from Pleasant Fields. We heard no suspicious noises. We saw no sparks rising. If a gang of goblins had been hiding there, they After a full meal, he must have flown to another place to hide."

"Goblin!" cried Mr. Smith. "I hope, if they do pass there, they should leave some of their belongings, like hoof clippings or horns or tails. We must find these things." We set out again at dawn the next day, April 29th.We counted on arriving at Wilton Farm, at the foot of Mount Airy, in the evening.The country scenery here is no different from the place we passed, but the path becomes more and more steep as we go up.Forests and swamps appear alternately. As we go higher, the swamps become sparser and sparser due to evaporation from sunlight.The farmhouses in this area are becoming more and more scattered, and there are several small villages looming under the shade of beech trees. Several streams with abundant water leading to the Catawba River meander through several isolated farms.

"Smaller birds and smaller beasts, but more of them. I really want to use my shotgun," said Mr. Smith. I didn't try my luck on partridges and hares when I passed here the first time. These wild animals don't know my strength. However, it is not because we have enough supplies, because what we are chasing today is more important. We are chasing the mystery .” "Hope we get what we want," I added. "We won't leave empty-handed." At noon, the Blue Ridge Mountains were only six miles away, and the peaks were clearly defined against the clear, clear sky.The forest at the foot of the mountain is dense, but it becomes more and more sparse at the top of the mountain, even bare, and only evergreen plants with stunted growth can be seen.At the summit, the trees are small, sparse, and even naturally twisted, making the rocky peak look particularly eerie.Ridges rise one after another, and strange peaks can be seen everywhere.On our right, Black Peak, about seven thousand feet high, raised its monstrous head high and flashed now and then in the clouds.

"Mr. Smith, have you ever been to the top of Blacktop?" I asked. "No," he replied. "However, I've heard people say that it's extremely difficult to climb. A few climbers have been up the mountain, and they say they can't see Mount Airy from there." "Perhaps," I said, "it's not a fair day." "On the contrary, Mr. Strack, the weather there is particularly clear, but the face of Mount Airy, where the summit stands, is so high that it completely hides the interior." "Mountain climbing," cried Mr. Smith, "I must go to the top of the mountain that no man has ever climbed, or even looked at,"

Indeed, on that day, Airi Jufeng looked extraordinarily quiet and solemn.When we looked at it, there were neither clouds nor fire on the peak. At five o'clock, the climbing expedition stopped at Wilton Farm, and the tenants warmly greeted their masters.The farmers reassure us that nothing out of the ordinary has been seen in the vicinity of Mount Airy for some time.We dined at a wooden table with all the tenants of the farm.We slept soundly that night and were not bothered by any unforeseen events that might happen. The next day, before dawn, we set off to climb the mountain.The peak of Airy Kyogoku does not exceed five thousand feet.The altitude of the Airi Kyofeng is already higher than the height of the Alcany Mountains in this area.We have reached an altitude of 3,000 meters, but we are not too tired from the climb.In just a few more hours we will reach the summit pass.Of course, there will be difficulties. Having to climb steep valleys and breaks on the ridge will definitely make climbing more difficult, and you may even have to take risks to find another path.A lot of unexpected things can happen to us, and that's what motivates us to keep climbing, and as I said, our guides know no more than we do about this.My concern, of course, is reports that Mount Airi is not climbable at all.However, this claim has not been confirmed.And, we only recently learned that a boulder had rolled down the ridge and left a gap in the wall.

"Anyway," said Mr. Smith, lighting his first cigarette, which he smoked more than twenty a day, "our ascent is going well, however long it may take." "At any rate, Mr. Smith," I interrupted, "you and I are determined to see it through to the end." "Make up your mind, Mr. Strack." "My boss asked me to do whatever it takes to obtain the secret of the monster Airi Jufeng." "Whether we want to or not, we're going to do this," Mr. Smith swore, "with Heaven as a witness, even if we have to search this mountain from the inside out."

"Then it may be the case," I said, "that our expedition must be extended, not just for a day, and it will be necessary to preserve our supplies." "It's not difficult, Mr. Strucker; our guide has enough food for two days in his backpack, and we have our own food with us. And, although I've left my brave Nisco at the farm , but I still have a gun. There is plenty of game to catch in the forest and in the valley below. At the top of the mountain, we can also find a fire to cook food, and there is already a fire." "There's been a fire, Mr. Smith, really?"

"Mr. Strucker, do you need to ask? I mean these flames! These flames, they frighten the people, have the flames from these flames cooled completely? Are there no sparks left under the ashes?" Come down? And, in this case, is it really a crater? Is this volcano completely extinguished, and we can't find any embers? If there is not enough fire, you can't even cook an egg or bake one Potato, it will be proven that this is nothing but an extinct volcano. We'll see, I say again, we'll see!" This view of probing, frankly, I don't think so.I have my own opinion about the expedition to Mount Airy.If it proves to be harmless, I will make this public and the people will be relieved.In truth, though, I should confess that I harbor a natural desire, driven by the demon of curiosity, for myself and for the reputation that this mission will bring me, if Airi Kyoho proves to be I will also take comfort in being the focus of some of the most incredible phenomena—my mission is to uncover the origins of their existence. It was with this motivation that our ascent began.The two sound guides walked ahead, looking for the most feasible path with the least effort.Elias Smith and I followed them at our leisure.We ascended a narrow, but not very steep, pass between rocks and woods.A small stream flows slowly under our feet.During the monsoons or after a heavy rain, the water must run down the rocks to the tumultuous cascades.The cascade, however, was evidently formed only by rainwater, for at the moment we cannot find its source at all.There was no way it could have come from the mouth of a lake somewhere in Airy Knoll. An hour after climbing, the slope became steeper and steeper, and we had to stop, going right and left for a while, and our speed was greatly hindered.However, it is difficult for us to move a step in the canyon, and its cliff-like slopes cannot stand at all.We can't reach the top of the mountain before sunset. "Come on!" Mr. Smith said loudly, stopping to take a breath. "I just realized why so few people have climbed Mount Eyrie. Very few people have climbed the mountain. As far as I know, no one has ever climbed the mountain." "The problem," I replied, "is that it's not worth the effort to risk things that aren't worth it, and that we're wasting our efforts for no particular purpose—" "Why do you keep going in circles," said Harry Horn bluntly, "my companion and I have climbed Blacktop Mountain several times, but we have never encountered difficulties like this." "It seems impossible to go up the hill from here," added James Black. All we had to decide now was which hillside we should turn to find a new path, but both to the right and to the left were as densely inaccessible as woods and bushes.In fact, in this case, climbing from the cliff seems to be easier.Perhaps, if we can climb this wooded hillside, we can move on.Now, we can only go forward blindly, pinning our hopes on the intuition of the two guides.James Brack is especially trustworthy.I believe that this brave young man was comparable to a monkey in his lightness of manner, and a ibex in his quickness.But in fact, both Elias Smith and I can climb as well as him. However, once I need to come in handy, I believe that I will never back down.As far as nature is concerned, I have always been known for my perseverance; as far as physical fitness is concerned, I have received strict training.Wherever James Bracke may go, I shall follow him as well, though perhaps I shall stumble in the march, which must not be pleasant.However, for the First Chief Executive of Morganton, the situation is different.Compared with the rest of us, he was far less young, less energetic, less athletic, and less enduring.Still, he climbed as hard as he could so as not to slow our progress.However, he was panting like a sea lion, and I had to insist that he stop and rest for a while. All in all, climbing Mount Airy took far longer than we had originally anticipated.We had expected to reach the base of the ridge by eleven o'clock, but by noon we would still be hundreds of feet away. At ten o'clock, after countless back and forth attempts to find a walkable path, a guide signaled us to stop.We finally found that there were more gaps between the trees already at the front edge of the dense forest.We were able to overlook the base of the ridge, and it is the base that best reflects the true face of Mount Airy. "Oh!" Mr. Smith cried out, leaning against a big banyan tree, "it would be nice to rest here for a while, or even have a meal." "Let's rest for an hour," I said. "Very well, our lungs and legs have worked hard enough to feed our stomachs." We agree.Rest will take our fatigue away.The only thing that bothered us was the steep hill above us.We saw the long strip of soil on the hillside, bare and smooth, known in this part of the country as a chute.In this slippery loose soil layer, strangely shaped stones, steep rocks stand upright, and there is no road at all. Harry Horn said to his partner, "It is difficult to climb." "Maybe not," Blake replied. Their words made me deeply anxious.If I return without reaching the summit, my mission must be a complete failure.Needless to say, it would also be a brutal blow to my curiosity.When I stand before Mr. Ward, ashamed and speechless, it will hurt my self-esteem to admit that I am nothing more than an incompetent fellow. We unpacked our backpacks and had a quick lunch of bread and cold meat, which we ate in less than half an hour.Suddenly Mr. Smith rose to his feet, eager to start at once.James Blake was at the head, and we had to follow as close as we could. We walked slowly, and the two guides didn't want to hide their doubts and hesitation; after a while, Horn left us and walked in front of us, trying to find out which way to climb to have the possibility of success. Twenty minutes later, he turned back and led us to the northwest.From here, the Black Top Mountain rises, three or four miles across, and the journey is naturally difficult.We walked on bare stones, and from time to time we got into sparse bushes.At last, with great effort and exhaustion, we advanced about two hundred feet, and found a large chasm in front of us, which severed the ground just at this point, and here and there lay freshly uprooted roots, broken Tree branches and boulders crushed to powder, as if a landslide had just swept across the ridge. "It must have been the path cut by the boulders that fell from Mount Airy," said James Brack. "Yes," replied Mr. Smith. "I think we'd better go up this road." Indeed, this fissure or depression is exactly the most suitable path Harry Horn has found for our climb.It is easy for us to stand at this moment on the solid ground that has withstood the tumble of the boulder.Climbing is now less difficult.The speed of travel has also been greatly accelerated. By half past eleven, we reached the front end of the "chute".A hundred feet ahead rose a hundred feet of rock, the last barrier of Mount Airi, and here stood its summit. Looking from where we stood, the top of the stone wall was abrupt and weird, extremely steep, with jagged and sharp peaks one after another.Viewed from another angle, the peak shape is like the silhouette of a giant eagle, spreading its wings in the air and about to take off.For that matter, at least this one wall is impossible to climb. "Rest a moment," said Mr. Smith. "We must see if it is possible to weave a way round the bottom of the cliff." "It is certain," said Harry Horne, "that the boulder must have tumbled down the cliff here, without leaving a crack through which we could pass." Both were right that we had to find another entrance, and after a ten-minute rest we climbed to the bottom of the wall and circled along the edge of the bottom. In front of my eyes, the scenery presented by the giant peak of Airi at this moment is extremely magical and magnificent.Its peak appears to be inhabited by dragons and behemoth monsters. Chimeras, griffins, and all the creatures of myth and legend, have been here as defenders, and I am not at all surprised. We struggled and risked to continue around the bottom, and everything we saw here showed that the divine power of the sky is just like human beings, and everything is arranged in order.There was not a breach in the fortified ramparts, nor a crack in the strata by which men climbed, and the height of this gigantic stone rampart was a hundred feet. After a few hours of walking around in this difficult way, we returned to the original starting point.I couldn't hide my disappointment, and Mr. Smith was as upset as I was. "Damn it!" he yelled. "We used to know nothing about the mysterious mountain of Erli, and we didn't even know whether it was a hole or not." "Whether it is a volcanic exit," I said, "there is no sound that people suspect today, and there is no smoke or fire on the peak, and there is no sign of any frightening volcanic eruption." Indeed, with everything around us still and the sky above our heads so clear, what we perceive is an absolute stillness and serenity. It interested me to note that this great wall was about a hundred and twenty or a hundred and fifty feet long in all directions; and that the area enclosed by it cannot be estimated without knowing the thickness which surrounds it.The surrounding area is empty and desolate, and perhaps no creature has ever climbed to this height, except for some predatory birds flying high above our heads. Looking at his watch, it was three o'clock, and Mr. Smith cried impatiently, "Why do you stay here all day? It's meaningless! We don't want to know anything here. We must be on our way, Mr. Strucker." .Do we want to go back to the Happy Garden tonight?" I didn't answer, and I didn't move a step from where I was standing.He cried out again, "Mr. Strack, do you hear me? What do you think?" Frankly, I would be extremely reluctant to return home without accomplishing the mission of climbing the mountain.At this moment, what I need most is persistence and patience; my curiosity is stronger.But I can't do anything, can I order this aggressive and unyielding formation to make a way for me?Can I jump over the cliff of this giant valley?Resentful, I took one last look at the giant peak of Airi and followed the other partners down the mountain. The return trip went smoothly.We just have to descend where we have climbed with all our might.Before five o'clock, we went down to the last hillside.At Wilton Farm, we were warmly received by the owner and let us have a delicious dinner. "You didn't enter the hinterland?" the owner said. "No," replied Mr. Smith. "The hinterland is, I think, only a fantasy in the minds of the people in these parts." At half-past eight, our carriage stopped in front of the village chief's gate in Happy Fields, where we spent the night.But I couldn't sleep no matter what, my mind was made up: I would never stay in this village, I should start preparing for another climb, but it was hard to predict how sure of success it would be compared to the first one.The wisest course would undoubtedly be to return to Washington and report to Mr. Ward. So, the next day, having paid the two guides, I left Mr. Smith's house in Morganton, and took the train for Washington that night.