The Burning Dead Page #5

What the hell... How the...

How did you...?

This mountain, she's like me.

She's got a few cracks in it,

and I stuck it out

in a narrow cave.

Oh, Ben, you wily ol' coot, you know

you're gonna outlive us all, right?

Ah, well...

I reckon that if I ever

have to get stuck again,

I'd like to have

some family with me.

What the...?

Look at that, you got the...

hair is just the same.

I had you with me

the whole time.

Let's go.

Wait, hold it, I'm not

totally damaged goods here.

Yeah, well, you've looked

a hell of a lot better.

Yeah? Well, who asked ya?

And that is the tale

of the mountain.

Sometimes I worry

that Night Wolf

takes a little bit

too much pleasure

from scaring the children.

I never.

It's they who like being scared.

Besides,

it's the only way I can get them

to listen to tales of the past.

Some history lesson,

teaching them about a curse.

Well, I suppose better a curse

than curse words.

There are no curse words

in the Cherokee language.

I know, but you,

you've gone and adopted

the dirty English ones.

Sh*t, me?

Come on.

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