especially those of North Carolina, had given full details of our
ascent of the Great Eyrie.

Naturally, I was much annoyed by this delay which further fretted my
restless curiosity. I could turn to no other plans for the future.
Could I give up the hope of learning the secret of the Great Eyrie?
No! I would return to the attack a dozen times if necessary, and
despite every failure.

Surely, the winning of access within those walls was not a task
beyond human power. A scaffolding might be raised to the summit of
the cliff; or a tunnel might be pierced through its depth. Our
engineers met problems more difficult every day. But in this case it
was necessary to consider the expense, which might easily grow out of
proportion to the advantages to be gained. A tunnel would cost many
thousand dollars, and what good would it accomplish beyond satisfying
the public curiosity and my own?

My personal resources were wholly insufficient for the achievement.
Mr. Ward, who held the government's funds, was away. I even thought
of trying to interest some millionaire. Oh, if I could but have
promised one of them some gold or silver mines within the mountain!
But such an hypothesis was not admissible. The chain of the
Appalachians is not situated in a gold bearing region like that of
the Pacific mountains, the Transvaal, or Australia.

It was not until the fifteenth of June that Mr. Ward returned to
duty. Despite my lack of success he received me warmly. "Here is our
poor Strock!" cried he, at my entrance. "Our poor Strock, who has
failed!"