Alone in the forest

This is another tale collected from my friends grandfather.

     As the tale goes, some years ago, before cars were readily available in Appalachia, a young man we'll call Carl was courting a young lady that lived on the other side of the ridge from Carl's home. Carl, being young and poor, would walk the long dirt road around the mountain to see his girlfriend, and on occasion her parents would invite him to stay for dinner. On one such evening, after a large and hearty meal, Carl began to set out for home in the dark. Now, this was long before flashlights or streetlights (Balsam, in fact, is still without that modern convenience) and so Carl found himself facing an oppressive darkness made even worse by the thick canopy of trees overhead. But Carl was a brave young country boy, and more importantly, he was tired. He made the decision that he would avoid the long walk on the dirt road and simply cross through the forest, over the ridge, and back down to his house.
     Within a few yards, Carl found himself in a darkness that was so complete he felt as if he were walking with a blanket over his head. He was forced to wave his hands around blindly to prevent himself from walking directly into a tree. When he reached the top of the ridge, he decided to rest, as the climb up had been more strenuous than he had expected. He reached out a hand in that inky blackness to support himself on a sturdy oak. But quite to his surprise, his hand came to rest not upon bark but upon another hand. Someone was there, within arms reach in that impenetrable darkness. Carl gave up all pretense of caution and ran, stumbling and blind through the forest, all the way back home.