The one about the fellow dying way up North at some fort Mickamuck or other, and the man sent to bring his body back on his sled through the frozen wilderness. This was set in the 1880’s? !890’s? Well, the man makes camp the first night up on the side of a valley, leaving the sled out all night a ways below. In the middle of the night the dogs all start to howl, and the fellow reports that he distinctly heard a man’s voice say “Mush!” or something like that. He swore it was true, and even got a witness or two (there might have been a few others who were traveling with him and the body of the unfortunate) to sign statements. Another reason Canada is a pretty darned good place to think about.