Black Powder Mountain

Just about a mile outside pyrite town there's black powder mountain, forever looking down. It has a grizzly disposition and a couple veins of mean lightning licks the summit at every opportunity. Some went up to tame it and vanished like a dream some say they saw the ghost of an old Chickasaw chief. One night, a 90-proof bet got the better of me I quickly packed up some grub and a fifth of bravery I brought my four-legged chum, for a little company. We made our way through the speckled forest waded half a dozen icy creeks thick mist slithered up the valley that night I prayed up a little fire to keep the ghosts from icing dream. The night dealt nothing but jokers and spades Something barreled through the forest to where the two of us lay. My eyes were wider than the barrel of my gun I fired off a warning shot to keep the phantoms on the run. Imagination was beating like a war drum and somewhere in the trickster's night I lost my little chum. I never made it to the summit and lost the 90 proof bet. A day later, when I was airing out my tent... out popped the feintest chant and a pale green arrowhead.