my blue shirt and wound it around my head. My fleece-lined reefer covered me down to my waist, and I could draw up my legs under it, too. My feet gave me the most trouble. I couldnât cover them very well and they were awfully cold.
I kept thinking of Mommy and Dad and wondering about them, and then I said some more prayers and felt better inside. I felt that God would help me if I needed help. I woke up once or twice and, each time, I wondered about Mommy and Dad. I felt awfully sorry about what had happened, for I knew Dad was out on the mountain somewhere looking for me. 9 I knew that up on the top it was coldâpretty near freezingâand I blamed myself for not sticking close to Dad and the boys on the hike up. If I had done that, I would be safe on my cot-bed in camp. I cried myself to sleep.
When I opened my eyes again, it was morning, and rain was still fallingâbut not heavily. I couldnât figure out for a moment where I was, then I remembered. Just below me was a little open space through which the stream ran. Beyond it was an old stump, all hazy with mist and the drizzling rain. I was shivering and unhappy.
CHAPTER 4
G HOSTS ON THE M OUNTAIN ⢠S ECOND D AY
H ENRY CONDON is a strong boy. He is seventeen, I think, and he likes to help a fellow. When we were climbing up to the top of the mountain, I got tired and he took me on his back and toted me for a long way. I remembered that , before I went to sleep, and Christmas! I wished Iâd never left Henry up in those clouds. Henry would have found his way down, because heâs the son of a guide and knows everything about thewoods. He knows what berries to eat and what kind of mushrooms are good and what kind are poisonous. I guess I must have dreamed about Henry that first night, because when I opened my eyes and saw that old stump down by the stream, there he was , too. I could see his head, but his neck and shoulders were hidden by the stump. Boy, was I glad!
You may think this was a dream, but it wasnât. My eyes were wide open and I saw everything. I know it wasnât a dream, even though it sounds crazy now. I sat up straight and yelled, âHenry! Henry! Here I am! Come and get me!â
Why didnât Henry answer me? I wondered about that. He was so still there behind that stump and he had such a queer look in his eyes. He was scared, and that made me frightened, too, because Henry wasnât afraid of anything. He wasnât afraid of noises in the woods and he just laughed at bears and things. I tried to get up to go to him and I did get onto my knees, but something had happened to my legs. They werenât legs at all. They were boards and my knees had iron hinges in them. So I just stayed there, leaning on my hands, and looking at Henry. Watching Henry was enough to scare the daylights out of a fellow. His eyes seemed to be popping out of his head. They never winked. They just stared downstream.
I had to do something. âHenry,â I screamed. âHere I am! Donât you see me? Come and get me! I canât walk. I canât get up!â
Then, when Henry didnât even look at me, I turned half around and saw why. Christmas! No wonder Henry was scared. Over there near the stream, in a clear place, were four white figuresâthey were men, and big men, too. Each had on a long white robe that went right down to the ground and they all had white hoods over their heads, with the peaks pulled out in front so I couldnât see their eyes. They had eyes, thoughâI know that, because something seemed to blaze under the hoods, like the eyes of cats at night when a headlight picks them up on the road.
Each one of the men had a long arm stuck out towards Henry. The arms were partly covered by white sleeves, but they were partly bare, too, and skinny. I knew then what was happening. Those men werenât going to let Henry help me. They were hypnotizing him, just like a fellow I read about once in a