Well, I just wouldn't want to scare you, lady. Nobody's ever seen `em...that is close, anyhow. Ever so often they come ridin' out of Ghost Canyon, up there where there's mists and clouds. If you look, you can see right now. Down out of their hidden canyons they come, like they was ridin' out of another world. Protectin' their hidden gold, that's why they're hauntin' us -- keepin' gold-hungry miners from diggin' up their graves. Look at `em, their blood gone from their veins. Their eyes cold as death and them ghost-like horses -- they don't even leave hoof prints you can ever find. I reckon you've heard of miners and prospectors disappearin' in the hills. That's what's happened to `em -- the riders got `em...gone without a trace. You'll never hear of `em again. You get the feeling they ride past like a cold wind that goes right through you, giving you the creeps and the shivers while they disappear back where they came from. And then when you look around, they're gone.