Not far from Cincinnati in 1830 lies a “great forest” occupied by the scattered homes of early settlers. Among them is an old, neglected cabin with a front door and boarded-up window. For decades, a white-haired man named Murlock has lived there; he looks 70 but is really 50. He lets his yard grow wild and provides for himself by selling animal skins.

Murlock is found dead at his cabin, apparently of natural causes. He’s buried next to his wife’s grave on the property. Few remember her, and only the narrator’s grandfather knew the cause of Murlock’s isolation. Now, only the narrator knows the tale.

The story flashes back to Murlock’s youth. Murlock and his young bride head west and carve a homestead out of the forest. One day, he returns from hunting to find his wife in a delirium of fever. Doctors are far away, so he tries to help her, but she fades away and all signs of life depart. Quietly he prepares her body for burial. Without tears and unaccustomed to tragedy, Murlock places her on a table, thinking his grief will pour forth when he puts her in the grave the next day.

Exhausted, he sits at the table where she lies and lays his head down to sleep. Through the window, he hears an unearthly wail, like that of a child lost in the forest. Then he hears it again, this time nearer. He wonders if it’s a wild animal, or that perhaps he’s merely dreaming it. He sleeps.

During the night, something wakes him in the room. Alert but confused, he listens. The table shakes, and he hears footfalls. Terrified, he waits. Suddenly the table lurches against him. Something heavy falls violently onto the floor. He hears a scuffle; he reaches across the table for his wife, but her corpse is gone.

Instantly, he grabs for his rifle and fires it without aiming. The blast lights up the room and startles the intruder, a panther dragging the dead body by the throat toward the window. Startled, the panther leaps out the window and disappears. Overcome by terror and sudden violence, Murlock collapses into unconsciousness.

He awakens to a bright day. His wife’s body lies disheveled on the floor near the window, a pool of blood from her torn neck coagulating on the floor. The ribbon that tied her hands together in a death pose is broken; her hands are clenched. Clamped between her teeth is part of the panther’s ear.