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Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay 
 

      THE GREAT SMOKY  MOUNTAIN  UGLY VARMINT



                Not long after that was the time my sisters and brother and I decided to go for a big hike in the mountains and sleep out.  Then our cousins found out about it, and they wanted to go and that was all right, and then our friends wanted to go, and that was all right, and then our cousins had friends and our friends had cousins, and pretty soon we had a big group – about as many people as are sitting here right now.

                My mother said, “Be careful.  And whatever you do, keep far away from the Great Smoky Mountain Ugly Varmint.  Better take Scout with you, just in case.”

                Scout was our dog.  Scout was actually the great grandfather of Rowf here.  At least, we think he was – but that’s another story.  Scout could take care of the Varmint, if it showed up.

                So we hiked and we hiked and we got farther into the mountains and farther away from people and roads.  We set up camp and pitched our tents and started a campfire.  And after dinner, we sat around the fire, telling ghost stories.

                My cousin Amy told the one about the Haunted Mountain.  Lester told about the Dark Cave, where creepy-crawlies land on your arm, and the torches fail, and people disappear.  Becky told us about the Witch in the Lighthouse.  We told stories until late in the evening; the fire was almost out.

                Suddenly, there was a rustle in the woods behind us.  And then a low growl, GRRRRRR.  Scout’s ears picked up.  “What is it, Scout?” I said.  Scout let out an answering growl and charged off into the woods.

                “Well, I hope it’s not the Varmint, but whatever it is, Scout will take care of it.  Nothing to worry about,” I told everyone, confidently.

                A minute later a high, scared noise, YIP, YIP, YIP, YIP came out of the woods and then the dog came running back with its tail between its legs.  He huddled between Sara and me and just lay there whimpering.

                Then the growl got louder.  It seemed to be going round and round our camp.  The growl said, “I’M HONGRY.  REAL HONGRY,”  over and over again and closer and closer.  That’s when I knew it was the Great Smoky Mountain Ugly Varmint.

                “I’M HONGRY.  REAL HONGRY,”  the growl kept saying.  Pretty soon we could see big, glowing eyes and sharp teeth flashing in the darkness.

                We all huddled closer together.  There was a little crying and whimpering and somebody said, “I wish I was back home.”

                I tried and tried to think of a way to scare off the Varmint.  I yelled, “Go away,” as loud as I could but it only came closer and kept on saying, “I’M HONGRY.  REAL HONGRY.”

                Then I remembered something my uncle Earl told me long before and I almost forgot.  There’s only one thing that will scare off the Great Smoky Mountain Ugly Varmint.  It isn’t fire, or sticks, or stones.  It’s a loud high-pitched noise, so high that only small children can do it.

                So, let’s all try to make the highest, loudest noise we can, especially all the little ones with high voices.  We need you to help scare off the Varmint.  All together now,   “Yeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

                There now.  I think it’s gone.  What a relief!  Thanks for all your help.  We couldn’t have done it without you!  

               

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