Week 2 Story: The Boy Scout who Wrestled with a Ghost

Author's Note: The story I've chosen to adapt from the Myth-Folklore Anthology, is "The Indian Who Wrestled with a Giant" changed here to take place in the modern day, among a camp of Boy Scouts. The idea for this adaptation (which I elaborate on in my reading notes) comes from the similarities I felt between the first half of this story and those I heard during my time as a kid in Boy Scouts. Outside the changes necessary to suit the new setting, the plot itself remains more or less the same, minus being condensed into a single night and adding a bit of ambiguity to the realness of the ghosts.

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A young scout zipped up his sleeping bag and prepared to turn in: the troop had made camp quite late, and he wanted to get some rest. They would be going fishing tomorrow morning, and, this being his first real campout, he knew he had to take full advantage of the opportunity to impress his new friends. 

The oldest of the three other scouts in the tent, however, had other ideas. Flicking his flashlight to illuminate his face in the classic, but comically overdone fashion, the elder scout began to spin a horrific tale of a forest haunted by ghosts who snatched up hapless Boy Scouts from their tents, or wait, was it skeletons? Our young protagonist wasn't too sure. He had mercifully begun to drift off to sleep about halfway through the story. 

Less mercifully, the scout was jolted awake, not entirely sure why. It was still dark and his fellow scouts had, at some point, managed to doze off themselves. It was then, as he lay there immobilized in his sleeping bag, that he saw a shadow dance across the tent.

"Is this a ghost?" he thought to himself. "No, a ghost wouldn't cast a shadow, right?" He racked his brain trying to remember the story from the older scout as the shadow drew closer and larger against the tent. "Am I supposed to play dead or try to scare it off? It depends on the type of ghost I think...wait no that's bears." 

Too late. The tent zipper began to move as the scout realized in terror that he was closest to the door. He decided playing dead was his best bet and quickly made himself as motionless as possible. As the door fell open revealing an indistinct, robed personage, he did his best not to shudder. The figure reached down, collecting a fistful of the scout's sleeping bag towards his feet, and lifted it in the air before releasing it. He let his legs fall as though he were a corpse, not wanting to provoke what was certainly a ghost of some sort. The ghost repeated the process once more, and, seeming satisfied that the scout was dead, began rummaging through its cloak, drawing forth something which the scout couldn't quite make out. As the ghost grabbed the scout's leg and raised the item into the air, however, he saw it clearly: a knife!

He screamed and lunged at the ghost to stop it, but suddenly found it was no longer there. Not only that but the tent door was still zipped shut. The scout at his side gave him a sharp jab to the ribs "shut up, dude. Some of us are trying to sleep." 

"Sorry." The young scout replied. "Bad dream, I guess."

As he began to settle back down from the nightmare, ostensibly induced by the older scout's horror story, the young scout suddenly became aware of the fact that he really needed to go to the bathroom. Gathering up his flashlight and his courage, he unzipped the door and stepped out into the night.

The scout walked a little ways from camp (50 paces as the handbook dictated) when he stopped dead in his tracks, his shaking hands failing to keep a grip on his flashlight and dropping it. Another robed figure similar, but somehow different, to the one from his nightmare leaned against a tree directly in front of him, whistling a tune he did not recognize. 

The figure spoke in the voice of a man (albeit one who had probably smoked 3 packs a day for the last 50 years) and asked if the scout had any food, for he was quite hungry. 

The scout didn't answer and, not even bothering to pick his flashlight up, turned 180 degrees to run back to camp. Instead, he found himself still facing the man. He turned again. No use. He reached into the deep cargo pocket of his pants, pulled out a half eaten granola bar from the hike to camp, and tossed it to the man, hoping to appease him. 

As the man accepted the granola bar and began eating it, the young scout again attempted to turn away and go back to camp, but this time he felt an unnaturally bony hand seize his wrist (ghosts AND skeletons!). He turned to face the man, whose cloak had fallen from his shoulders, revealing his skeletal frame, held together only by sinew and magic.

"We will fight now!" the man hissed. "If, and only if, you can defeat me will you succeed in your endeavor tomorrow!"

The young scout gave one last futile effort to pull away before resigning himself to battle the ghastly man. The two wrestled back and forth for what seemed like hours. The ghost grew weaker, the scout noticed, the closer he was to the flashlight which lay there on the ground, but the ghost was still much stronger than the scout. It seemed every time he got the ghost one foot closer to the light, the ghost would drag him two feet away. To make matters worse, as their match dragged on, the flashlight began to flicker, and the ghost grew even stronger. 

Out of options, the scout made one last ditch lunge at the flashlight, attempting to kick it back to life. It worked. The light shone directly on the ghost as the momentum from the scout's lunge sent him careening towards the ground, taking the ghost with him. The two slammed into the dirt. Hard. When the scout opened his eyes, the ghost was gone, leaving nothing but a pile of bones and ashes. He returned to his tent, shaken, and tried to get some sleep.

When the scout woke, he found his flashlight there, un-stomped and still full on batteries, which gave him hope that his wrestling match really was just another dream. Later that day, however, he caught nearly twice as many fish as anyone else and was no longer so sure.

Flashlight. Source: WikiMedia Commons

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Story Source:

"The Indian who Wrestled with a Ghost" from Myths and Legends of the Great Plains by Katharine Berry Judson (1913)