Read The Golden Leg for Free Online

the ghost,”
     said the old man with a slightly wistful expression, “but I never did. No one
     remembers her name, but she was said to be heartbreakingly beautiful, with skin
     as pale as alabaster, lips as red as blood, and hair as long and black as a
     winter’s night without stars.”

I
f there was ever a man who could shoot,
     hunt, or trap, that man was Thomas Conway. Tom, as he was known to his family
     and friends, was a sturdy man, and an excellent hunter. He was the eldest of the
     Conway sons, and the Conway family never wanted for fresh meat when Tom was
     around.
    Tom was a legendary shot, and it was rare for him to miss his target. Every
     winter his sharp eye and steady hand would help supplement the family income
     with a steady supply of fox pelts, which always fetched a good price.
    St. Bride’s was the community that Tom called home, and his father lived about
     fourteen miles down the road in a spot called Point Lance. One fine winter day
     in 1804, Tom hitched his horse to the sleigh, packed up some provisions for his
     father, and set off.
    About seven miles out, a magnificent black stag stepped out onto the road and
     stopped there, proud and tall. Tom had kept his rifle handy in case he spotted
     any game. He stopped the horse, reached for his loaded gun, raised it to his
     shoulder, and fired.
    Much to Tom’s dismay, the shot seemed to have no effect on the
     great black stag. He kept one eye on the beast and reloaded his gun. The stag
     barely moved as Tom stepped down out of the sleigh. Tom raised the rifle and
     fired. Again it seemed to have no effect, and the stag just stood there, not in
     the slightest bit concerned.

    Cursing at himself for missing twice, Tom muttered that he would
     fix that stag with the next shot. He poured out his gunpowder, doubling the
     power of his shot. He took slow, careful aim and fired once more.
    When he looked, the stag was still standing, unhurt and unmoved. Indeed, the
     stag stood staring back at Tom, with a very peculiar look in its eyes.
    Tom grew alarmed at this strange behaviour, and even the horse seem unnaturally
     restless. Deciding there was something uncanny about the black beast, he got
     back into the sleigh, and urged the horse onward. The horse needed no
     encouragement, and they covered the remaining seven miles to Tom’s father’s
     house faster than they ever had before.
    Laughter greeted Tom when he shared his story about the black stag.
    “Your aim must be getting bad,” joked his father.
    After a short visit, Tom said that he must be heading back toward his home. His
     wife was soon to give birth to their child, and he did not want to leave her
     alone too long. The horse started to trot along the road as a light snow started
     to fall, and Tom waved goodbye to his father. It was the last time that his
     father was to see him alive.
    Hours passed.
    Tom’s wife and brother were anxiously awaiting his return home. It was dark by
     this time, and Tom had been gone much longer than had been expected. Imagine
     their surprise when the horse galloped up to the door of Tom’s house. The horse
     was covered with sweat and trembling in terror. Theharness was
     broken, and there was no sign of Tom, nor of the sleigh.
    Worried, Tom’s brother raised the alarm. Nearly the whole community came out,
     and when day broke the next morning, they set off to search for the missing
     man.
    About seven miles along the road, at the same spot where Tom had met the black
     stag the day before, they found Tom. He was stretched out dead on the sleigh,
     cold as the grave. The contents of his powder horn had been poured over his
     face, but there were no marks of violence on his corpse. There were no tracks of
     animals or footprints of men anywhere in the snow, likewise there was no
     explanation as to how the horse had snapped its harness and freed itself from
     the sleigh.
    When news of Tom’s death was brought to his father, the man shared the story