Storyteller's Cabin
One day, Sam fought his way through the thick brush and found himself standing on a ledge overlooking a beautiful valley. And nestled in that valley was a pretty mountain village, with its freshly painted houses, lush fields and gardens, and a clean, sparkling stream flowing through the center of town. A hand-painted sign beside the road read: "Town of Burning Creek. Welcome to All!"
Sam rode into the village and looked around. It had everything a mountain town in those times typically had: a church, a mercantile store, a restaurant and a small hotel. But Sam was surprised to find that Burning Creek was missing one key feature. So he rode up to one of the townspeople and asked out of curiosity:
"Excuse me sir, can you tell me where the cemetery is?"
The man, who Sam noticed looked extremely tan, healthy and strong, let out a hearty laugh and answered, "There's no cemetery here. Ain't no need for one."
"Why's that?" Sam asked, surprised at his answer.
"'Cause there ain't no death here in Burning Creek, that's why. We're all too happy and healthy to die." The man then pointed at the stream. "You see that water there? It's filled with special minerals that come outta old Indian caves." He then pointed at the thick forest surrounding them. "You see them woods? They're filled with wild game - the biggest and healthiest critters you've ever seen. No one goes hungry here, and no one gets sick. And no one dies."
The jolly man then looked over Sam's thin, malnourished frame and said, "Son, it looks like you could use a good meal. Why don't you come down to the restaurant tonight for supper? They'll be plenty for you to eat, I promise."
Well needless to say, Sam had never heard such a crazy story in all his life. But his rumbling stomach convinced him to look over this minor quibble and accept the man's offer.
Later that evening, Sam cleaned up and went down to the restaurant. Sure enough, it was just as the jolly man told him it would be. The tables were overflowing with fresh fruits and vegetables, cheeses and bread. And the sweet smell of glazed, cooked meat filled the air. Sam dug ravenously into a huge, steaming plate of cooked game, the juicy meat just falling off the bones and melting in his mouth. He had never tasted meat so delicious in his life.
Sam ate so much that night he nearly passed out. So he decided to make Burning Creek his new home, at least for the time being. The next day, he found a job as a farmhand on a large cattle farm at the edge of the forest. Each night after a hard days work, he'd go back to the restaurant and devour giant helpings of that steaming, delicious game. Then he'd stagger back to this employer's farm, his belly hanging over his pants, and pass out in the barn loft.
And as time passed, Sam started to believe the story he was told - that there really was no death in Burning Creek. Everyone seemed healthy and fit. No one appeared to be old or sick. He thought maybe in his long travels, he had stumbled across Heaven itself.
But on some nights, a strange thing would happen that would awaken Sam from his deep slumber. He would hear strange sounds drifting from the dark woods surrounding the farm. At first, he only heard the sounds of the night crickets as they called out to one another. Sometimes he would hear the howl of a wolf, or the low hoot of a mountain owl. But then he would hear something else, something that sounded like - whispers. Numerous whispering voices drifting from the blackness, in a hushed conversation Sam could not understand. They would then drift away, and Sam would return to his slumber.
