Ask the Bones (5 page)

And while the man lay stunned, Yusef whipped the hide around him and tied it tight. Then he hid behind a rock.

Again the giant bird swooped down and grasped the hide, this time with the man inside it. Again it flew to the top of the mountain, and again it was frightened away.

When the man struggled free, he raced to the edge.

“Hurry,” Yusef shouted from below, “throw me the gems that are around your feet.”

The man recognized his own words. But they were coming from the lips of the boy—the very boy, he now realized, he had left on the mountaintop a few days earlier.

The man bellowed with rage. He kicked the hide over the edge in a shower of gems and tore the bird's nest to shreds. And while Yusef picked up diamonds and rubies, the man heaved bones at the bird circling overhead. It flew away, never to return.

The man ran back to the edge of the mountain and saw the boy riding away with bags full of gems. “Wait!” howled the man. “How did you get down?”

“I flew.”

“Flew?” the man screeched, suddenly realizing he should not have chased away the giant bird. “But how will I get down?”

The boy kept riding, but his words floated up to the mountaintop.

“Don't ask me. Ask the bones!”

 

 

 

M
orning, noon and night, the man kicked at the little black dog.

For some reason, the dog was always dripping wet, even on sunny days. And the man could not stand the smell of its damp fur. He tried to chase the dog out of his cabin. He threw his boots at it and even shot at it, but nothing frightened the little black dog. Finally, he went after it with his broom, but his broom swished right through it.

That's when the man noticed something that chilled him to the bone. The dog cast no shadow. The man shivered, because now he knew—that dog was a
ghost.

The dog followed him everywhere he went, sometimes making its presence known with a cold draft on the man's ankles. Sometimes it appeared as the tip of one black ear, twitching nearby, or as a pair of disembodied eyes.

And every time that dog came near, the man screamed.

Neighbors heard him for miles around. They watched him running down the road, dodging and hopping, as if something were nipping at his heels. But no one saw a thing.

They began to whisper about him and hurry to the other side of the road when he dashed past.

One evening, the man tried to lure the dog outside his cabin by leaving a bowl of food on the porch, and a bowl of water, too. But that very night, the dog slipped into the man's bed and burrowed under his blankets to warm itself. The man woke up freezing.

And when he saw that ice-cold dog with its head on his pillow, he leaped straight into the air with a bloodcurdling yell.

He hit the floor running, pulled on his trousers, and raced down to the barn. He grabbed his saddlebags, packed one with hay and grain and the other with apples and biscuits. Then he jumped on his mule and galloped right out of Kentucky. The more miles he put between himself and that dog, the better.

When he finally reached Missouri he stopped to spend the night in a deserted cabin. He was sore from the long ride, hungry, and desperately tired.

But when he opened the door, what did he see?

The little black dog.

Well, the man just about jumped out of his skin. He threw himself on his mule and rode all the way back to Kentucky. By now he was about to collapse, and so was the mule. And when he looked into his cabin, he fainted.

There was the little black dog.

When he came to, he saw that the dog was carrying a bone in its mouth, and it certainly wasn't a hog bone. It was a human bone, from a human leg—a dripping wet human bone—and that dog was trying to drop it right on the man's foot.

He leaped to his feet and ran screeching down the road with the dog chasing him, the leg bone clutched in its teeth.

Even the meanest dogs in the county slunk away when they sensed that little black dog coming, their tails tucked between their legs.

But the man couldn't get away from his ghostly companion. All the time he was pounding on his neighbor's door, the dog was trying to drop that bone on him. “Help!” he cried.

The neighbor peered out the window and watched the man hop around the porch, kicking at nothing. The neighbor was afraid to open his door, but he finally came out and asked, “What's wrong?”

“I haven't had a moment's peace,” the man cried, “since I killed a bothersome peddler, and his dog too, and threw them both in my pond.

“See that little black dog,” he sobbed. “It's come back to haunt me.”

The neighbor couldn't see it. But he went to get the sheriff, and they pulled the bones out of the pond. Then they buried the bones of that loyal dog in the graveyard right beside the bones of its master and took the killer off to jail.

And where was the jail? Right beside the graveyard.

The man never saw the little black dog again. But it haunted him for the rest of his life. Whenever he fell asleep at night, he was awakened by the overpowering smell of wet dog.

 

 

 

T
here once was a man named Abdu who had trouble finding work. He was very poor, and his wife and children were always hungry.

In desperation, Abdu left the town where he lived to see if he could earn a few coins in the countryside. But no matter how far he walked, he found no one who needed his help. By afternoon, he was weak and tired, for he had not had a bite to eat all day.

Suddenly he saw an old woman coming toward him. She was bent and wrinkled and wore a flowered kerchief over her hair. “Where are you going?” she asked.

“Who knows,” he cried. “I must wander from place to place until I earn enough to support my wife and children.”

“Do not despair,” she said. “Bring your family to live with me, Abdu, and we will share my wealth.”

Abdu was amazed. “Who are you?” he asked. “And how do you know my name?”

“I'm your cousin,” she replied. “I'm old and alone and would like your company. If you and your family live with me, no one will have to go hungry.”

Abdu could hardly believe his ears, and hope began to grow in his heart. He felt strong again, and he ran home to tell his wife and children all that he had heard. They were delighted to learn of their long-lost cousin.

That very evening they left town and walked out to meet the old woman, who was waiting for them in the middle of the road.

She took them home and let them eat to their hearts' content. “And soon you shall have milk to drink,” she told them. She picked up a pail and went out to the barn.

Abdu's wife followed to see if she could help with the milking, but as she approached the barn, she overheard the old woman talking to her cow. “Tomorrow I shall eat my guests,” she said.

The cow mooed as if to say, “No, no, no!” And Abdu's wife rushed back to the house to warn her husband.

“We must leave at once,” she cried. “The old woman told the cow she is planning to eat us tomorrow!”

Abdu was angry. “You didn't hear right,” he said. “Look how kind and generous she has been.”

Abdu's wife finally agreed to stay, but she was too frightened to sleep all night.

The next morning, Abdu's wife again followed the old woman out to the barn. Again she overheard what the old woman said. “Ah, today I shall eat my guests!” And again the cow mooed as if to say, “No, no, no!”

Abdu's wife ran back to the house as fast as she could. “We can't stay here a moment longer. The old woman is planning to eat us today!” she cried. But still Abdu refused to listen.

“Is there something wrong with your ears?” she shouted. “Stay if you like, but I am taking the children back home.” And that is exactly what she did.

When the old woman returned from the barn and saw that only Abdu was left, she decided to eat him right away. She blocked the doorway and screeched at him, “I'm not your cousin!” Her back straightened, her wrinkles faded away, and her kerchief fell off, revealing long, dark hair. “I am a witch,” she said, “who likes nothing better than eating the fools who come to live in my house!

“Tell me,” she asked, “which part of your body should I eat first?” She pulled a metal file from her pocket and began to sharpen her teeth.

Abdu was trembling from head to toe. He realized he was trapped and there was nothing he could do.

“My wife warned me,” he said, “but I would not listen. So begin with my ears.”