The Haunted Traveler December 2017 Edition

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only started tasting bad now. Ben tried the chicken noodle soup, and it tasted okay,
maybe a little funny, but he was really hungry. The soda crackers were okay too.
It was warmer that night, so Ben decided to sit out on the catwalk where he would
watch Dark Lake after the sun set. The northern end glowed again, and he heard the
witch much more clearly from this side of the cabin. Tomorrow he would go down
to the Lake. Ben dreamed all night long, dreams that woke him up but he couldn’t
remember. When the sun rose, Ben was tired. He ate his last can of chicken noodle
soup with crackers and set off down the mountain for Dark Lake.
By the time Ben tramped down the steep four-mile trail to the Lake, he was exhausted
and lay down under a fir tree. The witch told him to rest. When he woke, it was late
afternoon. He wasn’t sure if he could reach the cabin before dark. The witch had gone
silent. He wasn’t sure what to do. He started back up the trail to the cabin.
Ben had forgotten to bring any food or water with him. He struggled to climb back
up the mountain, stopping frequently to rest. After three hours he was only half way
up and it was almost completely dark. He couldn’t go any further. He found a group
of three hemlock trees growing in a semicircle. He lay down next to the trees and fell
asleep.
The next morning, Ben heard someone say, “I found him. He’s alive. I’m about half way
down the trail to Dark Lake.” The bear-man came toward Ben holding a walkie-talkie.
“Are you all right,” the bear-man said.
“Kelvaf borkart,” Ben said.
“What?” the bear-man said.
“Kelvaf borkart.”
“I can’t understand you, Ben.”
“Puffar”
The bear-man turned away and spoke into his radio. “Something’s wrong with the
kid. He’s talking gibberish.”
The bear-man came over and looked at Ben’s head. He rubbed in fingers in Ben’s hair.
The witch told Ben not to let the man touch him. Ben pushed the bear-man’s hands
away.
The bear-man held his hand up in a calming gesture. “Take it easy, kid. I’m just trying
to see if you’ve got a head injury.”
“Kelvaf borkart.”
“Christ, I can’t understand a thing you’re saying.”
“Puffar”
“Shit.” The bear-man stretched his hand toward Ben. “Can you walk? Let’s go back
to the cabin.”
The witch told Ben to stay where he was. The bear-man took his canteen off his belt
and offered it to Ben. “Here, are you thirsty.”