Carole’s bucket. “Anyway, now we need to get going. The train’s rolling west.”
They resumed their old jobs, but this time with lighter hearts. Though they still had their various aches and pains, they rode along thinking that problems didn’t seem nearly as bad when you were with people who shared them right along with you, and who were happy to help you whenever they could.
T HAT EVENING A crimson sunset blazed in the western sky. Stevie and Carole and Lisa sat enjoying it beside the campfire as they finished the last of their supper. Just as the sun finally slipped behind the distant mountains, Mr. Cate began to play a soft tune on his harmonica and Jeremy stood up to start their nightly campfire session.
“Tonight, instead of talking about the history of the Oregon Trail, we’re going to do something a little different,” he announced with a devilish gleam in his eye. “We’re going to do what the pioneers often did after a long, hard day on the trail.”
“What’s that?” someone asked from across the fire.
Jeremy grinned. “We’re going to entertain each other with stories. Tall tales, jokes, riddles, anything you want. It’s all up to you.”
Stevie winked at Lisa and Carole as she raised her hand. “Hey, Jeremy, can we tell ghost stories?”
“We sure can,” he replied. “Are you volunteering to tell the first one?”
“Why, yes,” Stevie said. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
“Then stand up here by the fire so that everyone can hear you, and scare us to death.” Jeremy led the campers in a round of applause as Stevie approached the fire. “Ladies and gentlemen, the best ghost-story teller in Virginia, Ms. Stevie Lake.”
Stevie bowed deeply and began her story. Though Lisa and Carole had heard it many times before—the legend of a ghost stallion that seeks revenge on the drovers who rounded up his herd—that night Stevie changed the setting from Virginia to the Western plains and transformed the Chincoteague Island ponies to wild mustangs. Everyone’s eyes grew wide as Stevie described the terror of the drovers who kept hearing ghostly hoofbeats bearing down upon them when there was nothing there. Finally, just as Stevie reached the climax of her story, one of the real wagon train horseslet out a single shrill scream. Everybody nearly jumped out of their skin.
“And the stallion lives on to this day,” Stevie finished with a flourish, “still searching for anyone who has ever hurt a horse. That might even be him right now, looking for you!”
Except for two people, everyone burst into applause. To Stevie’s delight, little Eileen sat trembling in her mother’s lap, her arms clutching her mother’s neck in terror. Gabriel, on the other hand, had pushed his cowboy hat back on his head and was giving Stevie a curious, unreadable look.
“Thank you, Stevie,” said Jeremy. “That was great. Anybody else have an entertainment for the evening?”
“I do,” Gabriel announced.
“Let’s have it, then,” said Jeremy.
Stevie sat down, shrugging at Carole and Lisa as Gabriel sauntered to the middle of the circle.
“Does everyone realize this is Crow country?” Gabriel began. He stood in the circle and began talking about an Indian brave who’d killed his blood brother. He hadn’t spoken a minute before Stevie realized that this was a ghost story, too. Gabriel was trying to one-up her! Not only did he think he knew everything about horses and wagons and the Oregon Trail, he thought he was the best ghost-story teller on theplanet as well.
No way
, Stevie silently vowed as Gabriel spoke in eerie tones over the fire.
I’m a hundred times better than he is, and I’ll prove it if I have to tell ghost stories all night.
Gabriel ended his tale with a war whoop, which again made everyone jump and made little Eileen cover her ears.
“Anybody else?” Jeremy asked after Gabriel sat down.
“I’ve got another,” Stevie called out, giving Gabriel a steely glare. “And
They resumed their old jobs, but this time with lighter hearts. Though they still had their various aches and pains, they rode along thinking that problems didn’t seem nearly as bad when you were with people who shared them right along with you, and who were happy to help you whenever they could.
T HAT EVENING A crimson sunset blazed in the western sky. Stevie and Carole and Lisa sat enjoying it beside the campfire as they finished the last of their supper. Just as the sun finally slipped behind the distant mountains, Mr. Cate began to play a soft tune on his harmonica and Jeremy stood up to start their nightly campfire session.
“Tonight, instead of talking about the history of the Oregon Trail, we’re going to do something a little different,” he announced with a devilish gleam in his eye. “We’re going to do what the pioneers often did after a long, hard day on the trail.”
“What’s that?” someone asked from across the fire.
Jeremy grinned. “We’re going to entertain each other with stories. Tall tales, jokes, riddles, anything you want. It’s all up to you.”
Stevie winked at Lisa and Carole as she raised her hand. “Hey, Jeremy, can we tell ghost stories?”
“We sure can,” he replied. “Are you volunteering to tell the first one?”
“Why, yes,” Stevie said. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
“Then stand up here by the fire so that everyone can hear you, and scare us to death.” Jeremy led the campers in a round of applause as Stevie approached the fire. “Ladies and gentlemen, the best ghost-story teller in Virginia, Ms. Stevie Lake.”
Stevie bowed deeply and began her story. Though Lisa and Carole had heard it many times before—the legend of a ghost stallion that seeks revenge on the drovers who rounded up his herd—that night Stevie changed the setting from Virginia to the Western plains and transformed the Chincoteague Island ponies to wild mustangs. Everyone’s eyes grew wide as Stevie described the terror of the drovers who kept hearing ghostly hoofbeats bearing down upon them when there was nothing there. Finally, just as Stevie reached the climax of her story, one of the real wagon train horseslet out a single shrill scream. Everybody nearly jumped out of their skin.
“And the stallion lives on to this day,” Stevie finished with a flourish, “still searching for anyone who has ever hurt a horse. That might even be him right now, looking for you!”
Except for two people, everyone burst into applause. To Stevie’s delight, little Eileen sat trembling in her mother’s lap, her arms clutching her mother’s neck in terror. Gabriel, on the other hand, had pushed his cowboy hat back on his head and was giving Stevie a curious, unreadable look.
“Thank you, Stevie,” said Jeremy. “That was great. Anybody else have an entertainment for the evening?”
“I do,” Gabriel announced.
“Let’s have it, then,” said Jeremy.
Stevie sat down, shrugging at Carole and Lisa as Gabriel sauntered to the middle of the circle.
“Does everyone realize this is Crow country?” Gabriel began. He stood in the circle and began talking about an Indian brave who’d killed his blood brother. He hadn’t spoken a minute before Stevie realized that this was a ghost story, too. Gabriel was trying to one-up her! Not only did he think he knew everything about horses and wagons and the Oregon Trail, he thought he was the best ghost-story teller on theplanet as well.
No way
, Stevie silently vowed as Gabriel spoke in eerie tones over the fire.
I’m a hundred times better than he is, and I’ll prove it if I have to tell ghost stories all night.
Gabriel ended his tale with a war whoop, which again made everyone jump and made little Eileen cover her ears.
“Anybody else?” Jeremy asked after Gabriel sat down.
“I’ve got another,” Stevie called out, giving Gabriel a steely glare. “And
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