“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow, I shall leave Washington; and the day after, I shall be at
Morganton.”
How little suspicion had I of what the future had in store for me!
I returned immediately to my house where I made my preparations for
departure; and the next evening found me in Raleigh. There I passed the
night, and in the course of the next afternoon arrived at the railroad
station of Morganton.
Morganton is but a small town, built upon strata of the jurassic
period, particularly rich in coal. Its mines give it some prosperity.
It also has numerous unpleasant mineral waters, so that the season
there attracts many visitors. Around Morganton is a rich farming
country, with broad fields of grain. It lies in the midst of swamps,
covered with mosses and reeds. Evergreen forests rise high up the
mountain slopes. All that the region lacks is the wells of natural gas,
that invaluable natural source of power, light, and warmth, so abundant
in most of the Alleghany valleys. Villages and farms are numerous up to
the very borders of the mountain forests. Thus there were many
thousands of people threatened, if the Great Eyrie proved indeed a
volcano, if the convulsions of nature extended to Pleasant Garden and
to Morganton.
The mayor of Morganton, Mr. Elias Smith, was a tall man, vigorous and
enterprising, forty years old or more, and of a health to defy all the
doctors of the two Americas. He was a great hunter of bears and
panthers, beasts which may still be found in the wild gorges and mighty
forests of the Alleghanies.
Mr. Smith was himself a rich land-owner, possessing several farms in
the neighborhood. Even his most distant tenants received frequent
visits from him. Indeed, whenever his official duties did not keep him
in his so-called home at Morganton, he was exploring the surrounding
country, irresistibly drawn by the instincts of the hunter.
I went at once to the house of Mr. Smith. He was expecting me, having
been warned by telegram. He received me very frankly, without any
formality, his pipe in his mouth, a glass of brandy on the table. A
second glass was brought in by a servant, and I had to drink to my host
before beginning our interview.
“Mr. Ward sent you,” said he to me in a jovial tone. “Good; let us
drink to Mr. Ward’s health.”