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How the Mystery Was Solved by GOLDA A. SWAIN The story that I am about to relate happened over a hundred years ago. Although it sounds incredible, the facts are true. Why it happened no one can tell you, for the records have long since been destroyed; and the younger generation has forgotten the stark terror that swept the countryside that dark, cold night in the late winter of 1859. It was a very cold, blustery day in late February when Mr. Lang Wilson started out on one of his cattle-buying trips over the country. Cattle-buying was his trade and the way he made his living. He rode horseback for miles through the backwoods , buying cattle until he had enough stock for a herd to drive to the lower part of the state. Then, with his three large shepherd dogs and one or two men, he would start the long drive out of the Kentucky hills to Mt. Sterling in the early spring. This day started out as uneventful as any other day for this hardened, slowspoken man of the hills. He left home about three o'clock in the morning on that never-to-be-forgotten day. He carried a l"nch prepared by his wife, for in those days people lived in far and remote places —not thickly settled, as we live today. You could travel by horseback from early morning till nightfall without seeing a dwelling or another human being. However, cattle, hogs, and sheep were plentiful and could be seen everywhere roaming the countryside, for people in those days just settled on a tract of land and built a home out of the wilderness. And they had no use for fences, for they were all good neighbors and helped each other. So therefore, the farmers didn't keep their stock in pastures or barns; they just ran wild and lived off the foilage, wild oats, and hay. The hogs grew fat on the mast, for acoms, chestnuts, beechnuts were abundant. When the farmer wanted pork for home use, he and a few of the closest neighbors would round up as many shoats as they wanted or thought would feed their families till hog-killing time another year. They would herd them into the home pens, feed them corn for a few weeks to sweeten the meat and destroy the bitter taste of the mast. In this manner the settlers lived and worked in harmony with each other, and conflicts did not exist. So, as Mr. Wilson passed through the country he saw no one; but his wandering eve covering the hill terrain had seen great herds of cattle and sheep, mostly on the lea side of the hill which gave some sort of shelter from the sharp bite of winter wind. "Ole Hoss," he said, "It will soon be dark and we still haven't seen a house yet." He shook his feet free of the stirrups and tried to bring some feeling back into his numb, cold feet. "I think ?? try to walk a stretch. Old Hoss," and with these mumbled words to his horse, he awkwardly swung down. Because of the stiffness of his feet and legs he almost fell; but, catching hold of his 117 stirrup, he regained his balance. The big black horse snorted his relief as he shook himself. He, too, was tired and was glad to be free of the burden he had carried for fourteen hours over rough hill travel. His fetlocks were covered with frozen mud, and he was also thinking of home and a good feed of oats and hay in the dark warmth of his own stall. After nearly a mile of travel in Ais manner, Mr. Wilson was leg weary and tired, so he climbed back on the big horse. By this time darkness had fallen, and it seemed to the tired man that he could feel something unnatural closing in around him. Settling himself in the stiff saddle, he pulled the brim of his hat lower over his eyes to protect diem from the needle-like snow that had begun to fall. The wind came from off hilltops and ridges like screaming...

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