My story takes place in Southern Mo. on land my grandparents bought, situated amongst the hills and valleys in the Mark Twain National Forest. There are many stories that my family has related to me concerning a particular area called Robert's Hill, better known as Spook Mountain in my family.

My whole family has a passion for deer hunting, except me. We would all go down to the cabin and sit around the fire at night telling stories then in the morning everyone would go to their tree stands or favorite hunting spots.

On this particular day my dad and uncles decided they would run the deer with the dogs. My uncles would take the dogs to the other side of the mountain let them loose and follow them as close as possible, mean while my dad would wait on the other side for the deer that were scared up.

Dad was waiting for the guys to get over to their starting point when he decided to have a seat and smoke a cigarette. He sat on an old stone foundation of a house that had been there forever. As he sat listening for the dogs and just enjoying the woods he heard a strange sound. It didn't sound like a dog so he listened closer and realized it sounded more like a baby crying in the distance. This seemed strange to him because he was far from homes, deep in the woods, where there couldn't possibly be anyone with a baby. More curious than ever he listened harder wondering if it was some sort of hurt animal. The longer he listened the closer the sound was, and as it got closer he realized that it moved in a circle surrounding where he sat. At this point he began to get nervous, the sound was so close that whatever it was he should be able to see what was causing it. Closer and closer the sound came, still not seeing what it was, until it got within about 10 feet. He turned in circles following the sound, watching, when he heard the crunching leaves and snapping twigs as if someone was walking. Suddenly he noticed that where the sound came from he could see the crushing of the fallen leaves as whatever it was slowly walked around him. There was no physical body, no hazy apparition, nothing. Only the sounds of the baby crying and the footprints it made as it walked.

I can't remember what dad did then, whether he ran to the cabin, or continued to hunt. But the story behind the old foundation was that it had burned to the ground many, many years ago killing a mother and her new born child.