Hot cider w/ cinnamon sticks, for a campfire.

Allow me to lead off with an appropriately spooky song: an Aussie poem set to music with a very traditional feel:

GRIESELY BRIDE^^^

Lie down my newly married bride
lie easy as you can
you're young and ill accustomed yet
to sleeping with a man

the snow was deep, the moon was full
as it shone on the cabin floor
his young wife rose without a word
and ran barefoot through the door

He up and followed after her
and an angry man was he
but his young wife wasn't eer in sight
and only the moon shone clearly

He followed her tracks through the new deep snow
calling out loud her name
but only the dingoes in the hills
yowled back at him again

then the hair stood up along his neck
and his angry mind was gone
for where the two footed track gave out
a four footed track went on

First he started walking back
then he began to run
and his quarry turned all in her tracks
and hunted him in turn

An empty bed still waits for him
while he lies in a crimson tide
Beware, beware, ye trapper men
beware of the griesely bride.

I learned this off a Cindy Mangsen LP; I've heard Sally Rogers do it live, too.

MA
^^^