The Discovery
Crisp mountain air and the refreshing scent of pine filled Charles Attwood with fervor. He stood upon a high ridge that commanded a spectacular panorama of the Paradise and Nisqually River valleys. While admiring the verdant forest below, his ears absorbed the faint blare of a train at Brown’s Junction; its echo ferried up the lowest canyon by a west wind. His eyes soon lifted to the Tatoosh Mountains whose sawblade summits cut the near horizon, granting an impressive view of two blanched peaks that ascended like twin titans over the rugged range that sequestered them. After soaking in the scenery, Charles turned his head to the towering alp above. “Ah! Mount Rainier, Great Tahoma, Mother of the Pacific Northwest! You are proof that nature outranks humankind. You are truly an attestation of a sublimely elysian force in this world.”
“You praise the mountain as if it possesses deific qualities,” Felix blurted, rounding a small snow-capped boss to catch up with his friend.
“Come now, Dr. Beauchamp. Surely, there are cryptic facets to our fair planet that we humans cannot comprehend. Even when we do, we either inadvertently destroy it amidst feeding our cupidity or sabotage it to impede that of an adversary.”
“Your words ring true, Dr. Attwood, but no humans will ever prove capable of destroying a volcano, neither with dynamite nor machines.”
Charles grinned. “Destruction finds all things, my good man. It just takes grit or time. After a while, materials unravel, tensions form, eventually an earthquake rips the world in two.”
Felix rolled his eyes. “An earthquake, no matter its size, could never sunder the world. For a paleontologist, you sure have a terrible perception of natural sciences.”
“For a geologist, you sure have a terrible sense of natural humor!” Charles parried.
The trekkers bypassed a rocky bend on their unmarked path, then slowed their pace while traversing a retreating glacier. Felix pointed at the massive mountain head above. “Look at those glaciers, Charles! The one under our feet is nothing in comparison. When people imagine volcanoes, all that comes to mind are explosions, billowing pyroclastic flows or surges, and rivers of vibrant lava. Many are reminded of the destruction of Pompeii or Krakatoa. Yet common folk quickly forget about the incredible nature of these living mountains, how they have vehemently forged our world for eons uncounted and how, in their dormancy, humbly nurture entire ecosystems. Did you know that many ancient civilizations perceived volcanoes as gods?”
“Yes, Felix, I know of Vulcan and Hephaestus. I have studied enough human history. Do you think there is there any chance of an eruption today?”
“Unlikely. Although, until we improve our methods of research and technology, we cannot accurately predict volcanic activity. We remain dependent on disciplined observation, but I have high hopes for science.”
Charles chuckled. “So glad I invited the great Felix Beauchamp on my journey up Rainier. Who better to assist me than a famous Canadian mountaineer, eh?”
“Other than Muir, Tyndall, Whymper, and Mummery, there are no famous mountaineers.”
“Whatever you say! I pray our expedition is worth the trouble. I do relish a good ramble, but this is reminiscent of a fairytale quest. To unearth prehistoric fossils on a mountainside would not only boost my publications but also increase my chance of gaining a position at a reputable, worldly university. Neither would I mind a glint of fame if fate should have it.”
“And who better to assist you than a famous Canadian mountaineer, eh?” Felix laughed.
“A geologist who specializes in volcanoes is necessary when ascending one,” Charles playfully remarked. “You are, more precisely, a volcanologist. That makes you a rare breed, my friend, and I’m certain that your commentaries on all we observe will be of paramount importance to the development of modern science. In this sense, we are pioneers!”
Felix felt the urge to whoop when he suddenly plunged through a soft spot in the glacier, down a wet chute of smooth rock that dispensed him near the edge of a small pool where he landed on his buttocks with a thump. While rubbing his sore bottom, Felix briefly scanned the surrounding emptiness before adjusting his backpack and reaching for the pickax that had somehow escaped its holster on his belt. He gained his feet gradually to avoid inflaming any muscles that might soon ail him. Once upright, he found that he stood at the center of a circular beam of light deplaned from the opening above. Beyond arm’s reach lay absolute darkness. He wheeled about and looked up at Charles, whose face, framed by black rock and a scrim of blue sky, reminded Felix of a silhouette portrait one might notice on a bedroom wall.
“Are you all right?” Charles inquired.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine! Fetch a branch and toss it down, will you? I wish to see where I am.” Felix was very much acquainted with caves considering their pertinence in geology. And this cave was ripe with intrigue. Therefore, once Charles dropped down an arm-sized branch of pine, Felix withdrew from his backpack a long scarf, a matchstick, and a small, corked bottle of kerosene. He clothed the end of the branch with the scarf and dabbed it with petroleum, then struck the match and ignited the makeshift torch. The firelight exposed the chamber’s ample capacity, enough to house a dozen horses at the very least. It was quite damp, an observation prompting Felix to surmise that this cave served as drainage for glacial melt, which filtered out through fissures and conduits in the outer, less compact layers of the mountain, eventually forming springs somewhere near the base. This little discovery filled him with zeal.
“Do you need help?” Charles inquired.
“I will soon,” Felix answered. “Now would be the time to utilize the rope in your pack.”
“Aren’t you glad I brought it? Some complain that twine is unnecessary in the realm of science. Well, I say-”
“Quit blabbering and affix it to a rock and let me know when it’s tight!”
While Charles headed toward the edge of the glacier in search of a firm roping anchor, Felix felt his curiosity boost. He slowly sauntered from the ring of daylight, each step more prudent than the last. As darkness enveloped him, the only sounds to caress his ears were his respiration, the friction of his boots on smooth stones, and a drip-drip that echoed from the deep toward which Felix cautiously stepped. Right when he had found what he believed to be the source, he tripped into a puddle of warm water, nearly losing grip of his torch. A hot spring must be near, he thought, trying to explain the temperature and abrupt rise in humidity.
Felix stood up and hoisted the torch over his head. It shed brilliance upon the cavern wall as well as several infant stalagmites that glistened like the sun’s reflection on a summer sea. He also noticed a hued layer of andesite at eye level, a bizarre phenomenon that evoked his curiosity. Yearning to steal a sample, he chipped into the volcanic material with his pickax. The stone cracked like hard sand, doling a little chunk into his palm. However, he quickly became distracted by small vibrations of fissuring earth. He glanced up to find the entire wall beginning to fragment. As the crackling amplified, misshapen saucers of rock started to plummet. Felix panicked and darted away just in time as a large segment of andesite collapsed upon the cavern floor with a terrible boom. A cloud of dust seized the air, nearly extinguishing the torch and choking Felix.
Once the haze began to disperse, Felix returned the pickax to its holster. While wiping his glasses on the sleeve of his jacket, his distorted vision caught sight of a strange glow by his boots. He pressed his glasses to his face and crouched low. Waving the torch over the ground, he realized that he stood over a scattered treasure trove of crystals. He picked up one of the larger, fist-sized gems and rotated it for examination. Mesmerized by its uniqueness, he then held it to the fire. Its raw, contorted facets refracted kaleidoscopic shapes in every direction. Amidst staring in wonder at the geometric colors, something peculiar in his peripheral vision drew his attention, an anomaly in the wall that beetled like the hidden answer in an optical illusion. He dropped the crystal and rushed back to the chute, where Charles had just lowered the rope. “What in God’s name happened down there, Felix? I heard an explosion of sorts. Are you hurt?”
“Get down here, Charles! There is something you must see. Hurry, hurry!”
The scientists hustled to the inner hollow, where the disseminated crystals on the ground quickly bewitched Charles. He picked one up and palmed it to the fire, amazed by its clarity. “Forget the crystals,” insisted Felix. “Allow me to shed light on something extraordinary.” He lifted the torch to the new cavern wall. Embossed in the volcanic rock was a humungous skeleton, perfectly fossilized in the final movement of its life. “This…this, my friend, surpasses human comprehension.”
Charles stepped closer with his mouth agape. “It is magnificent! Look at that head, the horned brows, spiked crest, dagger-like teeth, that elongated snout, the bones black as obsidian. And its body is beyond breathtaking. Each bone appears completely intact, unmarred by its geologic cage. Look at the curvature of those spectacular wings, arched in preparation for escape or frozen in the thick of flight. And the length of that serpentine tail! If alive during the Mesozoic Era, it might have struck down any dinosaur with a single blow. My God, Felix, do you realize what you’ve unearthed?”
“A dragon.”
