Ghost Lights of the Arrowhead Field
Phantom, MS> Mark Stewart came in late that night. He had hunted the Arrowhead Field up past the lake. The story he told that night at dinner was eerie and strange.
The day had been gloomy and overcast and he had only seen a few does crossing the field, and none had spent more than a few moments eating before they moved on. He patiently waited the last few minutes of daylight in case a big buck eased across the field in the fading light. The late evening air turned cold as the sun disappeared and night crept across the famous Christmas Place. Mark turned, watching desperately, and watched for any movement along the edge of the field. Wisp of fog rolled through the hollow below him and trailed out into the food plot.
The stand is in the center of a long field that balloons on each end. Hunting there ensures that you have to continually scan the field in front of and behind you. The site of an Indian village 500 or so years ago, we had found several arrowheads in the field and hence it’s name.
The sun was gone and several three deer came in and start grazing. Finally, they wandered off into the darkness. He waited till pitch dark before deciding to come down from the stand. He stood up and stretched his legs. A deer snorted down the field and he could barely see its’ flag as it bounced away. He sat down and lit a cigarette to wait a few more minutes and realized that the woods to his right were starting to glow. A deep hollow runs the edge of the field on that side and it seemed that a pale light was moving toward him up from the bottom this area.
His first thought was wondering who was hunting in there and what the heck they were doing.
The light moved up through the trees until it reached the edge of the treeline, then seemed to lift straight up and hang above the trees. Mark watched in amazement trying to figure out what was going on. He lifted his rifle and put his scope on the object.
He said it was round, slightly fuzzy and held a pale white and green glow. It seemed to pulse occasionally as it moved out and hovered over the field about 10 feet in the air.
It was hard to judge but it seemed about four feet around as it floated about 30 yards in front of him. Thinking quickly he pulled out his quick shot camera and took a picture. He put out his cigarette and watched as it started to lower itself then pop back up in the air. A terrible feeling of dread and danger seemed to grip Mark. It moved closer and he began to get a bad feeling that whatever it was had become aware he was watching and that he should get out of there. It moved closer to him and hung straight out in front of him, no more than 10 feet away. It became motionless as Mark eased his rifle down to firing position. It stayed right in front of him for about five minutes, slightly pulsing and slowly changing from white to pale green and then to yellow. Swirls of color and light inside the strange orb seemed to form angry faces that stared at him or seemed to give unheard screams and other movements making him wonder if they were calls for help or of horror. Swirling inside and rapidly changing colors, faded away to other movement and faces inside, leaving him feeling horrified and sick. His heart beating wildly, he also had a lost feeling that a terrible wrong had happened that he could not stop. Then it moved away to the edge of the field, worked its’ way slowly down through the trees and disappeared below the ridgeline.
Mark quickly got down and headed back to camp. Many of the members laughed and told him it was a good story. He said they could believe what they wanted, but he would never be on that stand at dark again.
Labels: Campfire Stories