One day a sang digger heard of the mother of all patches of quality roots growing up on a mountain known by everyone around to be haunted. Now this digger wasn’t a very superstitious man at all, and figured he could out smart any haint around by going out and claiming that patch of sang. So, one morning, despite the protests of his wife and family, the digger loaded up his pack and went out into the wilderness.
He wasn’t long in the woods when he heard a cry coming from over in the distance. It sounded to him like a small child screaming for help deep in the woods. “Child, are you okay?” The man shouted. “I’ve fallen in a cave, come help me!” The little voice replied.
So the man ran and ran up the mountain following the cries of the child which were getting closer and closer. Pretty soon he was right on top of the sound coming up from a dark crevice. “Are you there, child?” The man hollered down into the crevice, but when the cry came as a reply it sounded further up the mountain. The man looked in confusion. “I could have sworn it was coming from right here.” He thought to himself.
“Child, are you okay?” The man shouted. “I’ve fallen in a cave, come help me!” The child replied again.
The man shook his head and ran further up the mountain following the cries of the little child. Pretty soon he was right on top of the cries again, this time coming up out of a deep, dark crack splitting two giant boulders. “Are you there, child?” The man shouted down into the dark crack, but pretty soon the cry rang through the woods, again sounding like it was further up the mountain.
By this time the man was very confused and out of breath, but he figured he couldn’t just let this little child die down in some hole in the ground, so he shouted again, “Child, are you okay?” And again the cry replied, “I’ve fallen in a cave, come help me!”
The man had nearly reached the top of the mountain, following the cries which got louder and louder the closer to the child he got. Finally the man came up on a big, wide gash in the earth, big enough to swallow a wagon and its mules. He looked down into the dark and couldn’t see a bottom to the crevice. “Are you down there, child?” The man shouted down into the dark. “Yes!” The little child shouted back up to the man, “And you will be too!” But before the man could step away from the crevice a hand pushed him from behind and down he went, swallowed up by the earth.
Back home the man’s family all wept for him and that their warnings fell on deaf ears. To this day there’s the mother of all sang patches still waiting to be dug up on that haunted mountain in the wilderness.