If you find yourself on the Alaska Peninsula, having made camp by a rushing river, take care. There is evil beneath the surface, beware the Silver Lady.
After sunset, once darkness settles, faint giggles may reach your ears late at night. You might ask yourself what that strange noise was. “The gurgle of the river? An animal at play?” Stay in your tent, beware the Silver Lady.
Curiosity could get the better of you. Should you emerge from your sleeping bag to inspect, don’t be shocked to see her standing in the water. A little way from shore, she shines like the moon with a creamy glow. Her long white hair seems to shimmer, extending over her body to flow in the river. The silver gown and beauty she wears disarm immediately. You mistake her welcoming smile for pure warm-heartedness and give no thought to its effects on you. Crawl back into your warm cocoon, beware the Silver Lady.
Despite your better judgment, longing is all you can hope to feel. Your feet shuffle toward her of their own will as she beholds you with algid satisfaction. She points at the waterline and you follow her finger to see a mirror and comb. Do not go near them, beware the Silver Lady.
Both the mirror and comb are ornate and fine. The mirror reflects the luminescence of her glow. The comb’s teeth look like fangs, sharp and curved. You peer down and find yourself standing beside the river’s shore. Turn back now, beware the Silver Lady.
Powerless with wonder, your eyes move upward. You almost expect her to be gone, but she’s even closer now. A dull haze settles over your sight, the night is suddenly not so dark. Some part of you observes that her form is somehow even more captivating. High cheek bones, an intelligent gaze, graceful poise. She is at once the most unnatural and enchanting being you’ve ever seen. Her sudden and unexpected movement startles you, one delicate hand beckons as those bright eyes urge you closer. The other hand extends, encouraging you to bring her the mirror and comb. Do not touch them, beware the Silver Lady.
Should you prove unwilling or hesitant, she may speak. “Come,” her high-pitched voice rings, chiming for a few seconds after like the echoes of distant bells. “Come,” she repeats and gestures again, sending sparks through your body. If necessary, she’ll offer your wildest dreams. “A wish for your help,” she’ll plead and beg. “Help and I am yours.” This is your last chance, beware the Silver Lady.
Those of you who heed these warnings can enjoy a long, happy life. But if you so much as touch the mirror or comb, she’ll take you. Her fingers will turn to claws to pierce flesh and drag you across shale and sand. The beautiful illusion shall break and the Silver Lady’s real face is the last thing her would-be helpers ever see: a gaunt husk with glowing silver eyes and curved, jagged teeth extending outward hungrily.
Beware the Silver Lady.
Alaska: Village to Village 