"It makes me want to know what it is.
Yes, let us get up and go out." The cry was indeed pleading and magnetic.

It excited pity and curiosity.
There was a strange, mysterious quality about it that drew one toward it.
It was repeated a third time and then ceased.
There was a family by the name of Bonney who had taken a donated claim some miles from the Woodses on the Columbia.

They had two boys who attended the school.
Early the next morning one of these boys, named Arthur, came over to the Woodses in great distress, with a fearful story.
"Something," he said, "has killed all of our cattle.

They all lie dead near the clearing, just as though they were asleep.

They are not injured, as we can see; they are not shot or bruised, nor do they seem to be poisoned--they are not swelled--they look as though they were alive--but they are cold--they are just dead.