When Tom reached the bluff, the wind knocked him flat. He had to crawl through a river of mud to the place where the chief’s skeleton lay buried. Clutching the bag between his knees so he wouldn’t lose it in the darkness, Tom dug into the wet mud with his bare hands until the skull and bones were visible. Behind him, the dog howled chillingly as Tom fumbled to replace the necklaces and arm bands and amulets and decorations. He winced when he saw the injured foot, and his shaking hands touched the smaller skull of the dog as he reburied the chief’s bones in the desecrated grave. From somewhere behind him, the ghost dog howled.
“I’m sorry,” Tom sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Your things are back just as they were. I put everything back.”
He rolled over and screamed in terror, for the glowing chief and his dog were limping up the bluff just a few yards away. They were coming for him! And there was no place to hide.
Tom leapt to his feet and backed away from the glowing figures, his hands held up in front of his face to ward off whatever attack was coming. The chief drew closer and still closer until he was less than a yard away. He stretched out his hand toward the trembling boy. Beside him, the dog barked a warning. “I’m sorry,” Tom screamed, stumbling back from the apparitions.
Suddenly, the ground fell away from his feet. Tom screamed in panic as his body plunged straight down toward the flooded river. His cry was broken off as he sank into the raging torrent. The current was unbelievably strong due to the terrible storm. The river swept Tom away; pulling his head down under the water. Severely hampered by his heavy night clothes and thick boots, Tom barely managed to fight his way to the surface and gasped for air. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Tom sobbed desperately. He was still apologizing as the current pulled him down to the bottom and smashed him against the stones. I’m sorry, Chief, he thought, his lungs red-hot with the terrible need to breathe. I deserve this death for desecrating your grave.
Just as Tom blacked out from lack of air, he felt a creature nudge up to his side and push him toward the bank. Then a strong pair of hands seized the back of his night clothes and pulled upward.
When Tom came back to his senses, it was dawn and the storm was over. Tom was lying several feet above the raging river on a muddy bank. He sat up blearily, wiping blood from his face and looked around for the person who’d saved him from the river. No one was there. But in the mud beside him, Tom saw two sets of footprints; one belonging to a dog and one belonging to a crippled man with half of a foot on the right side.
Tom gasped and nearly blacked out again. At that moment, he heard Uncle Henry call his name from the top of the bluff. Tom pushed himself into a sitting position and looked again at the footprints beside him. “Thank you,” he whispered to the chief, tears rolling down his muddy cheeks. Then he stood up, legs wobbling, and waved up at his frantic uncle. With a shout of joy, Uncle Henry raced down to the river and hugged his shaking nephew with all his strength.
Part two
The Powers of Darkness
20
The Wampus Cat
Knoxville, Tennessee
The missus and me, we were just setting down to a late-night piece of apple pie when we heard someone running real fast across our barnyard.
“Casper! Casper!” a man was shouting. I recognized the voice of our new neighbor, Jeb Thomas. I swung the door open, and he ran inside looking as if he thought the devil were after him.
“Shut the door!” shouted Jeb. “Shut it quick!”
I shut the door and my missus tried to calm Jeb down a bit. Just then we heard a terrible howling coming from the barnyard. Jeb nearly fainted at the sound, and the dogs started whining by the fire. I could hear the other animals out in the barn squawking and mooing and neighing their distress at the terrible howling sound.
I knew at once what was making that sound. It was the Wampus cat. I took down my Bible and started reading Psalm 23 in a loud voice. I knew the Wampus cat couldn’t stand the words of the Bible, no sir.
The Wampus cat let out one more piercing howl and then I heard it crashing back through the trees, away from the house. I read a few more psalms just to be safe, then put the Bible back on the shelf and went to help my missus get Jeb into a chair. She gave him some hot coffee and cut him a slice of apple pie. Once Jeb had some pie in him, he was ready to tell us what happened.
“I was out late hunting with my dogs,” Jeb began, eyeing his empty plate wistfully. “I could hear something howling out in the woods nearby, but I thought it was just wolves, and the dogs didn’t seem to mind it. The dogs got way ahead of me. I kept calling them, but they didn’t come back.
“I was trying to decide if I should keep looking for the dogs or just go home when I tripped over a root and fell. My rifle went flying somewhere. As I groped around for it, I smelled this awful smell. It smelled like one of my dogs had fallen into a bog after it messed with a skunk. I called the dogs again, expecting to see Rex or Sam come running up from wherever they’d gotten to. But when I looked up, I saw a pair of big yellow eyes glowing down at me, and there were these huge fangs dripping with saliva. The creature looked kind of like a mountain lion, but it was walking upright like a person. Then it howled, and I thought my skin would turn inside out. I got up and ran as fast as I could, that creature chasing me all the way. Sometimes it was so close I could feel its breath on my neck! I figured your house was closer than mine, so that’s why I came here.”
Jeb mopped his brow with his sleeve. He was sweating again at the memory, and his hands were shaking. The missus cut him another slice of pie and poured some more coffee.
“I never saw anything like it, Casper,” Jeb said after consoling himself with a few bites of pie. “What in the world was that thing and how did you get rid of it? And do you think it got my dogs?”
“That was the Wampus cat,” said my missus before I could finish swallowing my coffee. “They say that the Wampus cat used to be a beautiful Indian woman. The men of her tribe were always going on hunting trips, but the women had to stay home. The Indian woman secretly followed her husband one day when he went hunting with the other men. She hid herself behind a rock, clutching the hide of a mountain cat around her, and spied on the men as they sat around their campfires telling sacred stories and doing magic. According to the laws of the tribe, it was absolutely forbidden for women to hear the sacred stories and see the tribe’s magic. So when the Indian woman was discovered, the medicine man punished her by binding her into the mountain cat skin she wore and transforming her into the creature you saw—half woman and half mountain cat. She is doomed forever to roam the hills, howling desolately because she wants to return to her normal body. They say she eats farm animals and even some young children.”
“Well, now,” I said when my missus had finished her story, “that’s one version of the tale. But myself, I think the truth lies in another direction.”
I took another swallow of coffee. Jeb waved his fork impatiently and said, “Go on, Casper.”
“Not so long ago, an old woman moved into a small house way back up in the hills near here. She lived like a hermit and acted real unfriendly when the folks hereabouts tried to be neighborly. She was a strange woman, with wild hair and a crooked nose and a way of looking at you like she was reading your mind. It wasn’t long before the folks around here starting calling her a witch because of the way the cattle and sheep acted after she came. Sometimes the cattle would fall over for no reason at all and lie as if they were dead. Or the sheep would walk around in circles till they fell down. Some animals rammed themselves to death against barn walls. It was like someone had hexed the farms in these parts.
“Then animals started going missing, and people really got stirred up. We began hearing rumors about a strange black cat that could sometimes be seen in the barnyards around the county. Folks said the cat was really the witch. People claimed that the witch, disguised as a cat, would sneak int
o a farmhouse during the day when the door was open. The witch would hide herself somewhere in the house until the family went to bed at night, and then she would put a spell on the family so no one would wake before morning. Once her spell was completed, the witch would go to the barn and steal whatever animal she fancied. No one had ever caught the witch stealing an animal, but everyone knew that she was the one to blame.
“Finally, the townsfolk decided to lay a trap for the witch. One of the farmers had just gotten a fine new ram, which he had seen the witch looking over real carefully one day when the herd was out grazing. The farmer was sure the witch would try to steal the ram, so they set the trap at his house.
“Sure enough, that night the witch snuck into the house in her cat form and put the whole family under her spell. Then she jumped out the window and went to the barn to get the farmer’s new ram. Once she was safely in the barn, the witch began to chant the spell to turn herself back into a human. Before she could finish the spell, several men jumped out and captured her. The witch was halfway through her spell when the trap was sprung, and she didn’t have a chance to complete the transformation. She had grown to the size of a woman and was standing upright, but much of her was still a cat, including her large yellow eyes and the fangs. The half-woman half-cat creature was a terrible sight. Because the witch had been interrupted at a critical juncture, the spell could not be completed or reversed. The witch was trapped in this ghastly form forever.
“The witch howled in terror and struggled to free herself from her captors. She was strong as an ox in the new, misshapen form, and she knocked the men to the barn floor. Then she fled, breaking through the closed barn door in her haste, and disappeared into the hills.
“There was no more hexing of the farm animals after that, but the witch still walks the hills hereabouts and still stalks farm animals when she can. Folks started calling her the Wampus cat, and they stay indoors on nights when the moon is high and the wind blows strong.”
“Nights like tonight,” Jeb said thoughtfully, pushing aside his coffee cup. “You never said how you got rid of the Wampus cat.”
“Like all witches, the Wampus cat can’t stand the sound of Scripture being read,” I replied.
“Do you reckon it’s safe to go home?” Jeb asked. “My missus will be worrying. And I’d like to see if Rex and Sam made it back.”
“I’ll drive you home,” I said. “We’ll take my dogs and the lanterns.”
“And your Bible,” Jeb said quickly.
“And my Bible,” I agreed.
“Well,” Jeb said as I got my coat. “I wouldn’t have believed in that Wampus cat unless I’d seen it for myself. But I believe in it now!”
Jeb wished my missus goodnight and followed me out into the barnyard, glancing nervously into the nearby woods and clutching my Bible as he walked. Jeb helped hitch my horse up to the wagon, and before we left the barnyard, we lit the lanterns and put the dogs in the back.
As we traveled the short distance to Jeb’s place, we could hear the Wampus cat howling in the distance. And closer, we could hear Jeb’s dogs howling from his yard. Jeb sagged with relief. When we drove into the yard, Sam and Rex came to greet us. After fussing over his dogs for a bit, Jeb turned to me and said, “Thanks, Casper, for coming to my rescue.”
I was just turning the wagon when Jeb opened the front door and called out, “I tell you one thing, Casper. I’m never going hunting at night again!” Then he slammed the door shut, and the dogs and I headed for home.
The Wampus Cat
21
The Man in Gold
Guilford County, North Carolina
There was once a very proud girl who lived in a huge mansion not too far from Guilford County. Her father doted upon his daughter and indulged her whenever he could. When she stated that she was not going to marry any man unless he came to her dressed all in gold, her father made no objection. The girl’s little brother, who was very wise, told her that she would live to regret her rash words. But the daughter just laughed at him.
One evening, the father and mother gave a fancy ball for their daughter. Everyone who was anyone attended. The daughter danced and laughed and flirted with all the young men. But none of them caught her fancy.
Her little brother, bored with the party, went down to the gate to talk with the coachmen. While he was there, a fancy carriage driven by a hooded, featureless man and pulled by four fine black horses stopped at the gate. A handsome man, dressed all in gold, stepped out of the carriage.
“I am here to see the man of the house on business,” the elegant man said to the gatekeeper. The little brother watched the man from behind the gate. There was something not quite right about the man in gold, but he could not put his finger on what was wrong. The gatekeeper, awed by the fancy carriage, the fine black horses, and the gold clothing, let the man in at once.
As the man entered the courtyard, the little brother bowed to him and said, “I will take you to my father.”
The father was pleased to meet the elegant man dressed in gold.
“It seems I have interrupted a ball,” the man in gold said after they had been introduced. “I could come back at another time.”
“Oh no, sir. Please join us. My daughter would like to meet you,” said the father.
Indeed, the daughter was thrilled to meet the handsome man dressed in gold. She abandoned all the other young men and would dance with no one else the rest of the evening. The little brother stayed in the ballroom, studying the elegant man partnering his sister. Something was not quite right about the man. Then the little brother noticed that the elegant man’s boots were too small for his size, as if his legs ended in something other than feet. Yet he danced with grace and skill.
Between dance sets, the little brother said to his sister, “Sister, did you notice the man’s feet?”
“What about his feet?” asked the daughter lazily, waving her fan and watching the man in gold pouring her a drink of lemonade.
“His boots are too small and yet he dances as if his feet were normal. You should ask him about it.”
“Ask him yourself,” said the daughter as her escort came back with her drink.
“What is it you wish to ask me?” inquired the man in gold.
“What is wrong with your feet?” asked the little brother.
The elegant man raised an eyebrow, then frowned as if he thought the boy’s question impertinent. But he answered it. “When I was a child, I fell into the fire and my feet were partially burned off. Fortunately, I overcame my handicap.”
The man in gold bowed to the daughter and swept her onto the dance floor. The little brother frowned. It seemed to him that there was still something wrong. He studied the man in gold intently. The man’s hands looked rather strange. They were gnarled and red, with very long nails that looked like claws. When the man and the sister returned to their chairs for a short rest, the brother said to the man, “Did you burn your hands too?”
“Really, brother!” His sister was annoyed. “That is rude. Apologize immediately.”
The little brother apologized, and the man in gold graciously accepted his apology. But the man’s eyes were cold, and the little brother felt it was prudent to leave the couple alone.
By the end of the ball, the man in gold and the daughter of the house were betrothed. The man, impatient to claim his bride, told the parents that he would take her to his home where they would be married. The parents were dazzled by the man’s obvious wealth and agreed to let their daughter go away with him. The daughter, though completely infatuated by the man in gold, was a bit nervous about marrying in such haste.
“I will go with you gladly, sir,” she said. “But I am going to a strange place and wish to have someone from my family accompany me. Little brother, will you come?”
The little brother agreed at once. He did not like the man in
gold and did not want his sister to marry the man. The man had his carriage brought around, and he settled his bride-to-be and her brother inside. The little brother looked out the window and saw the man in gold toss an egg into the air. It transformed into a large bird.
“Hop and skip, Betty. Go along and prepare the road for us,” the man said.
The Man in Gold
The large bird flew away. The man stepped into the carriage, and the featureless coachman drove them out the gate and down the road in the direction the large bird had flown. The man in gold was silent, gazing out at the dark night. The daughter took her little brother’s hand. Her fingers were shaking. The little brother squeezed his sister’s hand and looked carefully around the carriage, seeking something to aid them should they need it. He saw a grubby sack underneath the seat across from them, where the man in gold sat. Otherwise, the carriage was empty.
Ahead of the carriage, a glow appeared on the horizon. It grew brighter and brighter as the carriage drove toward it. Smoke filled the air and blew into the carriage. The daughter and her brother started coughing.
“Sir, we cannot go that way. There is a fire,” said the daughter.
“That is just my men burning off new ground for my crops,” the man in gold said impatiently.
“Please, sir, we cannot breathe through this smoke. We must turn aside,” said the daughter. She was very nervous now. The man in gold was looking less and less like a handsome man the closer they got to the fire.
“I will check to see if there is a clear passage,” the man in gold said. He asked the coachman to stop, swept up the grubby sack, and stepped out of the carriage.
The little brother saw him take an egg out of the sack and throw it up in the air. It transformed into a large bird.
“Hop and skip, Betty,” the man said. “Clear the smoke for our passage home.”
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