Ask the Bones

Table of Contents

 

 

 

“Excellent for reading aloud, this collection will satisfy even jaded genre fans.”

—
Booklist

The Boxes
William Sleator

Dracula
Bram Stoker

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Dorothy and Thomas Hoobler

Richard Peck

John Bellairs

William Sleator

John Bellairs

Rosemary Wells

Gaston Leroux

Edgar Allan Poe

Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Putnam Books for Young Readers.
345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.
Penguin Books Ltd. 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England
Penguin Books Australia Ltd. Ringwood, Victoria. Australia
Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2
Penguin Books (N.Z.) Ltd, 182-190 Wairau Road, Auckland 10, New Zealand

 

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England

 

First published in the United States of America by Viking,
a member of Penguin Putnam Books for Young Readers, 1999
Published by Puffin Books,
a division of Penguin Putnam Books for Young Readers, 2002

Text copyright © Arielle North Olson and Howard Schwartz, 1999

Illustrations copyright © David Linn, 1999
All rights reserved

 

THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HAS CATALOGED THE VIKING EDITION AS FOLLOWS:
Ask the bones: scary stories from around the world / selected and retold by
Arielle North Olson and Howard Schwartz; illustrated by David Linn.
p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references.
Summary: A collection of scary folktales from countries around the world including
China, Russia, Spain, and the United States.

eISBN : 978-1-101-12795-7

1. Horror tales. 2. Tales. [1. Horror stories. 2. Folklore.]
I. Olson, Arielle North. II. Schwartz, Howard, date. III. Linn, David, ill.
PZ8.1.A.27—dc21 98-19108 CIP AC

 

 

-A. N
.
O.

 

 

S
ince ancient times, the night has seemed mysterious and threatening. Shadows beyond the firelight gave rise to tales as frightening as our worst nightmares. These stories account for more shivers than the most chilling wind.

The scary folktales gathered in this book come from around the world—from the United States, China, Russia, Spain, and other far-off lands.

Here ghostly pirates take unspeakable revenge on those who dare to dig for their treasure, and witches turn unfortunate men into oxen whenever they please. Here the devil bargains for souls, a kindly cousin turns out to have a grisly appetite, and evil eyes endanger the unsuspecting.

It is only human to tremble at the unknown, especially after dark, when you don't know if you are hearing branches rubbing against the window or evil creatures prowling around outside your door.

The ones who lurk within these pages are lying in wait for you ... so take care.

 

 

 

L
ong ago there was a haunted forest in Uzbekistan. No one who stepped into its shadows was ever seen again.

Rusty axes lay on the ground, dropped there by wood-cutters who disappeared forever. Baskets lay smashed in the bushes, left by terrified berry pickers who never returned home.

The roaring was terrible. It echoed through the forest day and night. But what roared? No one knew.

Some said that evil spirits waited in the gloom, ready to pounce upon their victims and lock them deep inside the trunks of trees. Why else did the branches moan in the wind?

Others said that monsters with dozens of long hairy arms rose up through the forest floor and pulled their victims deep beneath the earth, leaving only the axes and baskets behind.

The Khan told everyone that neither evil spirits nor hairy monsters lurked in the forest, only a mighty beast. A hungry beast. A beast who could eat an entire man for dinner, yet roar its displeasure if it didn't find a tender maiden for dessert.

The Khan wanted someone to slip into the forest and kill this beast. He was sure he could find a man brave enough to do it. And if that man disappeared forever, the Khan wouldn't worry. He could always find others, particularly if he offered a prize.

So the Khan issued a proclamation. “Let it be known,” the proclamation stated, “that a great prize will be given to whoever kills the beast in the forest and brings back its head.”

Hunters came, who could spear a sapling at fifty paces, cleanly splitting it in two.

Soldiers came, who could slice their swords through the air faster than the eye could see.

But one by one they disappeared into the forest. Peasants living nearby heard hideous screams amidst the roaring. And they never saw the brave men again.

The peasants piled chairs and tables against their doors at night so nothing from the forest could burst into their huts. They spoke softly to one another, not knowing who or what might be listening. “Only a fool would attempt to win the prize,” some whispered.

But the shoemaker's son decided to try.

His name was Hasan, and he had heard about evil spirits and monsters ever since he was a child. At bedtime, when dark shadows filled the hut, his mother had told him stories that set his imagination on fire. A cloak hanging on a peg seemed alive when the wind blew through a crack in the wall. Pots and pans looked like heads that had dropped down the chimney and were sitting on the hearth, waiting to devour him as soon as he closed his eyes.

As he grew older, cloaks and pots and pans looked familiar, except when he awoke in the dark, still immersed in his dreams.

But the frightful roaring in the forest? He never got used to that. It made his skin creep and his scalp tingle. Still, he tended to believe the Khan. It was just a beast. And what beast, he thought, could not be outwitted by a man?

When Hasan turned sixteen, he announced he was going to win the Khan's prize. His mother and father feared for his life, but he promised to be careful. Finally they let him go to the Khan's palace.

Now the Khan had seen many men try and fail, so he was amused that a mere boy would attempt to kill such a ferocious beast. But he gave Hasan a helmet, a shield, and a sword.