The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1892-02-12
WEIRD TALES OF THE WOODS.
All Kinds of spooks Alarming the Lum-
bermen.

BANGOR. February 11.-Either the
Maine woods are full of spooks this win
ter or it is high time for some of the
lumbermen to change the drink. More
than one camp S crew has been fright
ened half to death by the apparition of a
white buck on the tote road at midnight,
while others have seen a white-robed
figure perched on the shoulders of an
enormous moose, just before the camp
door. The men employed by F. c. Rob-
inson. in the depth Of the Aroostool1,
forest, declare that genuine ghost,
dressed in pearl gray, Wanders through
that region. Some say that it is the
spirit Of hunter who was killed by a
companion many years ago, while others
believe that it is the ghost of woods
man who was crushed to death by fall,
ing pine and whose grave may be seen on
the bank of the Aroostook. Between the
pearl gray ghost, the Indian devils, and
the whiskey smugglers over from New
Brunswick there are lively times in the
Aroostook camps.
A Prospect man witnessed sight one
night last week which caused his cheek
to pale and his hair to rise. He was cut
ting cordwood on the steep banks of
Half Moon, stream, "a small tributary of
the lower Penobscot, and he worked in
close proximity to the village burying
ground. The weather was very cold on
SATURDAY. when the man reached Sears
port with a load of wood, and he thought
that it would be good scheme to buy a
gallon of rum for use in case of a sudden
attack of the grippe. =. On the way home
he sampled the rum. 1t was very good,
for Searsport lum, and he took few
more nips. 1t was past o'clock in the
evening when he reached the scene of
his chopping, the moon had not risen
and the woods were white and ghostly in
their mantle of snow. He was about to
turn off into the road that leads to his
home when he heard a scurrying noise
on the snowy hilltop of the cemetery.
Looking up he beheld long, black form
dart out from among the trees and slide
at terrific speed down the steep incline
into Half Neon stream. The first
object was followed soon by several
others, all sliding express speed
where it would be death for any human
being to go. The woodsman gaped in
terror at the spectacle, and then started
for home. where he related a horrible
tale of@the dead rising from their grayes
and starting on toboggan slide in their
coffins down the steep bluff into Half
Moon stream. He described the scene
so graphically that his son took his rifle
and started out to see what had stirred
up the cemetery. When he returned
two hours later. he brought the pelts of
four big others, the largest more than
six feet in length, and remarked that the
toboggan sliding Of the dead villagers
was spiritual mirage produced by his
fathers visit to Searsport.
The spooks of the West Branch are
quite active and clipper this season, par
ticularly the one with the bloody axe and
the one that drives an impossible load of
logs behind six white horses. There are
lumbermen who have always been afraid
to cross Moosehead Lake at night, and
since the recent fatalities there the pas
sage of the great ice road is more than
ever grewsome journey.