Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1888-08-09
'PoOhl Who's afraid I'm going tina.

that we must cross the brook on a marrow
ot-Drldge. had no argument in favor o
my plan, except TO say that we should reacl
the highway sooner by that route; but wa
unusually obstinate that night, and repeated
i shall go by the way of the sawmill. Yol
can go which way you choose
"but we all want to go together" said m,
sister. II asked mother if we might STAY
with Ellen tonight"
Il don't want to; rather sleep at home
You need not wait for me il you get GU
first"
Saying which 1 plunged into a thicl
growth of under6rush in the direction o.
the sawmil The way was rougher than
thought. The bushes were very thick and
tangled, but stumbled along few rods
Then heard, or thought heard, the girl
calling me. Quite glad of an excuse to for
sake my plan, l turned toward them AMI
called, but received no answer l called
again and again, and ran to and fro to avoid
the rocks dimly seen through the increas
ing darkness, till grew quite angry with
them for not answering, but for long time
/ had no thought Of being lost.
When l gave up the hope Of overtakine
the girls, l stopped quite bewildered, for
had lost the points Of compass entirely.
could not judge of my course by 1.-The lay OF
the land, ;" for the mountain rises in combs
and the growth of trees was so dense that
could not see the ''dipper," which was the
only constellation really knew
began to run back and forth at random,
controlled by a fear which every moment
grew more intense, till l seemed to be en-
ve!oped in an atmosphere of terror. ran
TQn md ,ead oh I'd
ing against trees and stumbling over rocks
and roots till at last 1 fell headlong down a
precipice, only few feet, probably, though
l seemed to be falling through miles OF
black space.
Dumb with terror, I lay on the soft bed of
leaves where had fallen. AL was dark
ness and silence, except the signing of the
wind and the cry Of a screech-owl in the
distance. was not brought up in the woods
to fear an owl, but that low, mournful
tremolo, which has brought chill TO many
an older heart than mine, added to the gloom
of the situation.
lay where / fell till became calmer.
Ny fears had been altogether vague, for /
had not once thought of rattlesnakes, cata-
mounts or ghosts, with which the mountain
was said to be infested.
l began TO reason with myself with such
success that soon came to the conclusion
that had not been frightened at all-at
least not much-and then / formed a plan
for getting home. l arose, peered carefully
round, and started toward the lightest part
of the woods, which hoped indicated a
clearing. felt my way slowly between the
trees, which were very small and thickly
set, till on putting my foot carefully for
ward, set it on one end of some cylindrical
object which yielded under my foot, while
the other end few up and hit me near my
waist
Without doubt it was a flexible branch,
but my only thought was rattlesnakes, and,
with one wild shrek and bound, started of
through the woods, frenzied with fear beat
ing and bruising myself against the trees.
Finding that running was out of the ques-
ton, / crouched down by the foot of a tree
and waited for the snakes, for | felt sure
that was just where Mrs. Howard warned
me not TO go-in the rattlesnake dens. l
fancied L could hear them coming from all
creep, creep, creeping along. But
they never reached me, and after awhile
came to my aid and instructed
me that snakes did not travel at night.
breathed freer till the swapping Of a dry twig
supplied me with new terror. Panthers,
Of course! night was just their time for
providing, and made no question but that
should be dragged away to make a supper
for litter of young catamounts within
few minutes. In less than that time l saw
something which drove serpent and beast
from my mind for the rest Of that night.
My father was singularly fearless man
and taught US to be so. He allowed US to ex-
plore the mountain and take our chances,
which, he said, were ten thousand to one
that we never saw a rattlesnake; and the
last panther known to have been on that
mountain was killed, he told US, eighty
years before. As for ghosts, which were
said to float uneasily over the old cemetery
on the south slope, we did not even so much
as dare mention them in his presence But
if ever mortal eyes saw a ghost, here was
one.
Just before me was little opening, and
beyond, under low, branching hemlock,
was the ghostly presence, swaying and
reckoning to me in the dim starlight. If
was terrified before was frozen with horror
now, and | felt my hair rising under my
pink calico sun-bonnet. Again and again
looked, till l could endure it no longer; then
l. CIV gCS I'LL tue UuSeSu l6TTOT was
worse than the sight itself
As have said, my education in ghosts
and hObgoblins had been neglected, but Aunt
Chatty, an old woman who sometimes
washed for my mother, had told US of various
appearances" on the mountain. As the
latest of these apparitions was fifty years
before, we felt tolerably secure, but now
ordinary weeks seem short to the time l
stood confronting that disbolical whiteness
i shut my eyes and counted fifty, one hun
dred, even one thousand, but each time l
looked. the appearance stood swaying and
floating before me.
Speak to a ghost" Aunt Chatty had
said, land it will disappear"
But what should say. what converse
ton could one hold with such a shape! but
any thing was better than this. deter
mined to speak, so, closing my eyes and
all my courage, shouted:
''Git aeout!''
cautiously opened my eyes hoping the
,oast was clear, but there it was, beckoniug
and swaying; / almost thought it grinned
1t me.
At last, thought might as well go to
meet it and die at once as to stand there
lying of dread and fear. closed my eyes
again, ran a few steps and opened them
quite near to-a white birch tree, The low
of the hemlock had swayed in the
breeze before it, but the stalwart white
trunk certainly neitherswayed nor beckoned
nor yet grinned.
! sat down and cried and laughed in pure
The noise woke some bird
ings in the nest over my head, l suppose,
for heard the mother chirping a soft lula
Dy, and the old words: I'VE are of more
value than many sparrows!" stole into my
heart with inexpressible comfort.
now felt that must spend the night on
the mountain and make the best of it. l
found heap of dry leaves near the ghostly