They smoked stolidly.
“No good.” The old man carefully rubbed the ash from his cigarette. “Bad spirits. You call ’m bad luck.” He looked at Gary searchingly. “You hear ’m holler?”
Gary grinned. “Somebody hollers about half the time. Who is it?”
The two looked at each other queerly. It was the younger one who spoke.
“Them’s ghos’. When Steve go, comes holler. Nobody holler when Steve’s all right. Five year them ghos’ holler. Same time Steve go. Nobody ketchum Steve. Nobody stop holler.”
“Well, that’s a heck of a note!” Gary smoothed the cat’s back mechanically and tried to laugh. “So the Voice is Steve Carson’s ghost, you think? And what happened to Steve?”
“Dunno. Don’ nobody know. Steve, he makes them shack. Got cattle, got horses, got chickens. Mine a little, mebby. One time my brother she go there. No ketchum Steve Carson no place. Hears all time holler up there. My brother holler. Thinks that’s Steve, mebby. My brother wait damn long time. Steve don’t come. All time them holler up on hill. My brother thinks Steve’s hurt, mebby. My brother goes. Hunts damn long time. Looks all over. No ketchum Steve. My brother scare, you bet!
“My brother comes my place. Tells Steve Carson, he’s hurt, hollers all time. Tells no ketchum Steve no place. I go, my father goes. Other mans go. Hunt damn long time. Nobody hollers. No ketchum Steve Carson. Saddle in shed, wagon by tree, canteens hang up, beans on stove—burnt like hell. Them cat holler all time.
“By ’m by we go. Hunt two days, then go. We get on horses, then comes holler like hell up on hill. Get off horses. Hunt some more. All night. No ketchum holler. No ketchum Steve no place. Them cat go ‘Yeouw! Yeouw!’ all time like hell.
“My brother, she’s damn ’fraid for ghos’. My brother gets on horse and goes away from that place. Pretty soon my brother dies. That’s five years we don’t find Steve Carson. All them time holler comes sometimes. This place bad luck. Injuns don’t come here no more, you bet. We come here now little while when sun shines. Comes night time it’s damn bad place. You hear them hollers you don’t get scared?” It would seem that Gary’s assertion had not quite convinced them. The young Indian was plainly skeptical. According to the judgment of his tribe, it was scarcely decent for a man to foregather with ghosts and feel no fear.