Here’s a little story by a Grandpa L.M. Olson. Because of the nature of people in Sweden and Norway of wanting to know everything about everyone… L.M. Olson recorded the following experience…
“This condition is, of course, aggravated where you are best known, as there are people who think of so many more questions to ask, as many of your affairs are known to them. In order to make better progress, by avoiding all these stoppages (while traveling), Mrs. Ekstrom decided to leave when our neighborhood was all asleep and accordingly, we set out towards midnight (to travel to Christiania).
This being in the early and pleasant part of the Summer, the weather was delightful, and although it was night, it was not the time of year so dark that one could not see fairly well, and travel with perfect ease. The roads, which might properly be regarded as our county roads, though very much better, were as level as a floor with sides nicely rounded off and grass growing on the sides. As our road was winding along in a small vale with farms on our left and on the right, pasture with a considerable growth of young trees. I was suddenly alarmed by the snorting, and simultaneous appearance of two black horses. They were black as jet and their eyes had the brilliancy of the brightest fire. As the cow we brought with us was rather a pet, she followed without being driven, and hence, we all walked side by side, as it were. I happened to be on the left side of the animal and towards the front, just at the moment the horses made their appearance. The cow was taken as much by surprise as we were. She made a jump to the side and in doing so, struck my forehead with the full length of her horn, and I found myself rolling off the road. When I gathered myself up, which was only the effort of seconds, I looked for those beautiful horses, and saw them with high head and curved bushy tails make their way between the trees, which were not close enough to impede their fleet movements. To be sure, I had received a blow that made a swollen ridge from one side of my forehead to the other, but considering what might have happened, the evil intended was providentially modified, to be a only a temporary effect. And this time, I again escaped what might have had serious consequences.
Until this day, this would have passed into oblivion and henceforth and forever, been lost to my recollections had the incident terminated with what is related above. But that is what it did not, and it is this second feature of my experience, which made an impression on my mind that time cannot efface, but will presume, remain the greatest mystery of my life.
Our road from this point tended upward on both sides of the road were scattered farm houses with the unusual belonging. In the part of the world where this incident took place, a heavy cart or a two-wheeled conveyance was at that time used more than anything else in the farm line. These carts, even on a smooth road would make much noise, as they were springless and comfortless, and less everything else but noiseless. Now, as we had proceeded but a short distance, we heard in the absolute stillness of the night, the faintest rattle of a cart. It increased and increased and increased in volume of loudness until I was absolutely sure it was right on my heels. I turned and looked within a few feet of me to get out of the road, as it were, but there was nothing to be seen, and yet the night was so light that it could have been discovered a block away. The delusion was repeated time and time again and I repeatedly looked behind me to see it as I was not wise enough to imagine anything out of the ordinary. We had now reached the highest point of the road in the vicinity, and there Mrs. Ekstrom stopped. She had matches with—why, I don’t know; when travelers in that country wanted fire they stopped at some house. Fire by the roadside, as we use them here, I had never seen until I came to Utah. She, however, had some and she struck some, and remarked, “Now we shall hear it no more. That, my boy is not cart,” she added. She was right. We heard it no more. She was no doubt equally right when she said, “That is no cart.” You, no doubt, will say, what was it? I must answer I cannot say what it was. More than fifty-four years have intervened since then; and the incident is as vivid before my eyes as the night it transpired.”
No doubt, fear and darkness flees and vanquishes in the presence of light.
