The Legend Behind Augusta's Spring

Come with me, out on a hike along Balston’s Creek

Down a narrow deer trail running directly parallel

Climbing treefalls, rounding  mighty grey boulders

The sound of insects drowned out by the rapids

Way on out past where the springs begin to start

We’ll continue until it all becomes just a mighty trickle

Then we will be at the place where it all begins

The river, the creek, the story

Under the cool shade of the oak and hickory trees

The cold water bubbles angrily up from the ground

Pushing up from the depths, flashes of gold and sparkles

But alas, to the fool who blindly reaches in for the riches

For it is rumored to be a straight noxious acid 

From the devil’s own wine cellar erupting from the earth

Now, gather round, I’ll tell you a tale

Of how the sweetest spring in the Ozarks

Turned into a demon’s evil brew

💔

The girl was known to slip off from home

When her chores were good and well done

Straight to the woods she’d head, without a moment to lose

In her innocent mindset, she never saw any harm

The townspeople would never cause her any ill

They protected those born with such a carefree, pure heart

So since the day she was first allowed

The lass would set out as soon as she was free

Exploring to her heart’s content, subconsciously knowing

To always be home before her Ma rang the dinner bell

The town wasn’t sure where exactly she went

If they knew, maybe they’d worry more

💔

On the last summer day that anyone was to see her

The sun rose in the sky to the sound of varied bird calls

Farmers’ eyes opened with the first crow of the roosters

Starting the day with a stretch and a yawn

The sky’s color promised to bring good weather

With maybe a hint of a shower sometime in the afternoon

Many saw the lass as she skipped her chosen path

Not one thought anything about her running along

Stopping only to gather wild flowers as she went

Soon, she disappeared from everyone’s view

When she turned along the path beside Balston’s Creek

Back when the waters flowed clear

And the fish swam in rainbow clusters 

💔

That evening, when she didn’t appear for supper

Her parents grew worried about her

Her mother picked up the phone and dialed the neighbors

Her dad began to track her trail as best he could in the fading light

By morning, she still had not returned

Her mother was beside herself with worry for her only child

Her father was anxious to find his pride and joy

The town formed a search party for the girl

For all were scared something had happened to the lovely girl

They searched the meadows and the woods, to no avail

For days they searched for the girl along the creek bed

Little knowing how far back she would travel alongside it daily

Four days passed, and still no one had found her

The townsfolk noticed Balston’s Creek changing

It was turning into noxious fumes, and its color was turning

They began to worry about what it could mean

💔

On the fifth day, the sheriff called in the bloodhounds

They immediately picked up her fragile scent

Took off running beside the creek

They ran so hard, the search party had a hard time keeping up

Ran past where the search party last searched

And kept right on going

They led a chase straight back to the beginning

Back to where the springs fed the creek

Even further back, to where the first spring came bubbling out

Now, the closer the townspeople got, the worse the smell became

The water turned a dark, toxic color

Forcing them to walk a few steps away from the banks

How the hounds could follow the scent, no one knew

The odor was unbearably noxious

Then the dogs began to bay and bark as they milled about

Signaling an end to their arduous task

As the searchers entered the clearing, nearing the end

They froze, each one refusing to believe what their eyes saw

Their faces were all frozen in shock as they stood in complete disbelief

The sheriff motioned for no one to walk any further

As he gingerly entered the clearing

Stopping only long enough to mark each clue

💔

There was blood splashed across the ground and bushes

Torn fabric scattered across the open glade and shrubs

Broken tree branches and crushed blades of grass

Making it obvious that something horrible had happened

Without what they saw in the originating spring

What used to bubble clear and pure

Now gurgled with a toxicity none of them had ever seen

Contaminating the spring was the girl’s lifeless form

Shoved down, stuck into the opening headfirst

The girl’s father screamed, “Augusta!!”

He ran to pull her out of the creek’s source

The search party watched in surprise

As his legs began to melt away.

The sheriff barely got the girl’s dad pulled from the spring in time

A little upset they’d have to carry him out now, too

He set about trying to figure out how they’d take the girl home

They tried sticks and ropes, but everything melted

Nothing they tried worked to dislodge her from her watery grave

After several attempts to no avail, trying to retrieve her

The sheriff finally gave up. Knowing he couldn’t leave the lass

For the world to see, he sent a couple of men to town for supplies

💔

Once the men returned, the group set about and busied themselves

As best they could, they built a tomb above and around the spring

Fully encasing poor Augusta’s body from sight

It took several attempts until they figured out where to place the boards

Once it was up, the preacher said a few words

Then the group made their way back into town

What none of them knew

What none of them suspected

Was it that the sheriff already had an inkling of who was responsible

There weren’t many men in the community who wore a fifteen shoe

Arriving in the town, the overworked sheriff knew what he had to do

Walking to Ingle’s Feed, he hollered for Frank to come out

At almost seven feet, he was the second tallest man in town

“I’m assuming you were running the store

So I need to know where your brother is,” the sheriff stated

Frank responded with a disheartening answer

“I ain’t seen Leon in days, to be honest

You find him, tell him he’s got work to do.”

With that, he thanked Frank and turned on his way

💔

The lawman rode out by himself, searching high and low

He was gone for days, but came back empty-handed

Leon was long gone, nowhere to be found

All the sheriff could do was issue an APB on the boy

He knew sending it statewide wouldn’t be enough

Since the well-loved Augusta had gone missing

The running man could have made his way to any place

So the officer of the law did what he could only do

He issued it nationwide, listing the crime with the FBI

He continued his search amongst his county

Never once giving up on the notion

That Leon would return to the scene of the crime

A year passed, then two or more

Balston’s Creek started to run clear

As it flowed past the town

The fish returned

But no one would fish the waters

In their grief, they erected a statue of her by the shore

And every year on the date the young lass disappeared

The village would gather at the water’s edge

Tossing out offerings and gifts

To the girl whose life was drowned

Taking her forcibly from the town which loved her

Their mourning was as pure as her innocence

The creek continued to clear, beginning to sparkle

Its gurgling began to take on the tone of her laughter

With each passing year, the town was sure of one thing

The girl’s playful spirit was embodying the frolicking creek

Geysers and small falls appeared where none had been before

Everyone in the village watched in amazement at the change

Thinking it was the girl’s way of letting them know she was okay

They enjoyed the show around the village

Never once thinking how strange it was that 

The first stream still flowed murky, noxious, and foul

💔

Then one night, late when no moon had appeared

On the anniversary of the day Augusta had disappeared

Everyone was woken to the sound of someone screaming

Blood-curdling screams at one moment

A high-pitched, watery gurgling the next

Running from their homes, their curiosity rising

The people each ran towards the sounds

The sheriff pulling up his pants as he carried his boots

Was bringing up the rear, hollering for folks to stand back

Side-stepping and hustling

He made his way to the front of the crowd

Where he skidded to a stop in the muddy banks

For in the midst of the creek was a man who was being tossed

By a once gentle stream turned raging inferno

Crashing him into the rocks and holding him under the eddies

Another man could be seen sitting in the water

Begging for release and mercy

Pleading for forgiveness for his brother

That’s when he realized who was inside Balston’s Creek

The Ingle brothers were reunited in town now

Everyone could see with their own two eyes

Not just the lawman with his aging ones

But what surprised him all the more

Was the memory of the stream, and how it seemed to know

For one brother was held down and pinned 

To hinder his movements, not to injure

But the other brother, Leon, the sheriff was feeling sorry for

The water had no mercy upon him

 Slinging him under the falls, and holding him under

Only to fling him back up and slam him into the eddies’ rocks

The young man was beginning to look like a limp rag doll

Drowned in a child’s bathtub

The sheriff tried to approach the scene

Only to be blasted with a geyser of water in the face

So hard that he washed up on the opposite shore

He tried again; this time, the water pushed him under

Shoving him to the banks by the village

One more time the lawman tried

One more time the water hindered him

Pushing him upon the rocks located in the rough eddies

Worried now that he’d receive the same treatment as Leon

The sheriff decided to try no more

He and the town’s folk watched as the creek got more violent

Rushing harder and harder

Roaring louder and louder

Soon, Frank’s pleas and Leon’s screams could no longer be heard at all

💔

It was with disbelieving eyes 

That they all witnessed what happened next

With one last charge, a geyser sprayed up and down

Pushing Leon along, upstream instead of downstream

With each push, the water flowed faster in reverse

With each push, the town gasped

The sheriff was soon jogging to keep up, gasping for breath

All the way along the path beside the stream he ran

He could hear the people of the town behind him

Plowing on, he was surprised when he made the clearing

And saw the beginning of the many springs

In his heart, he knew where to go

So he ran on until he saw her cairn

Feeling a cramp begin, the sheriff grabbed his side

In horror, he watched as the water pulled Leon into the crypt

A small hole for the water to escape

Soon it became the entrance for Leon’s body to make

For with a twist and a turn, the water did the work

And into that tiny opening, with a final scream

Leon was taken, never to be seen again

Within moments, the creek returned to its normal flow

Playfully gurgling along

The townspeople went back to their homes

The sheriff went to make his report

The whole village was in shock by what they’d witnessed

💔

For years, Balston’s Creek has protected the town

With the spirit of Augusta embodying the feeder spring

No man who came through the village would be able to hurt

A woman or child for long in the village

Without the waters soon reaching out its long fingers

And taking him under her watery robes

To never be seen again

What? I can see by your face you don’t believe my tale to be true

You think I’ve imagined the whole affair

For how can a creek or a spring be sentient

But I swear what I tell you today is true

I promise there is no tall tale that I’ve told you today

Everything that happened in this tale really happened 

Not too many years ago, I might add

So I know everyone involved, as I’ve lived here all my life

Augusta was my babysitter when I was a young lad

And as the years have flowed, just as this creek has

I have witnessed all the events unfol