Uncle Robert told how he believed some of Mistress Hester's enemies had
planted a shrub near her door and planted it with a curse so that when
the shrub bloomed the old woman passed away. Then another man told how a
friend had been seen carrying a spade into his cousin's cabin and the
cousin had said, 'Daniel, what foh you brung that weapon into by [TR:
my?] cabin? That very spade will dig my grave,' and sure enough the
cousin had died and the same spade had been used in digging his grave.

"How my childish nature quailed at hearing the superstitions discussed,
I cannot explain. I have never believed in witchcraft nor spells, but I
remember my Indian grandmother predicted a long, cold winter when she
noticed the pelts of the coons and other furred creatures were
exceedingly heavy. When the breastbones of the fowls were strong and
hard to sever with the knife it was a sign of a hard, cold and snowy
winter. Another superstition was this: 'A green winter, a new
graveyard--a white winter, a green graveyard.'"

George Fortman relates how, when he accompanied two of his cousins into
the lowlands--there were very many Katy-dids in the trees--their voices
formed a nerve-racking orchestra and his cousin told him to tiptoe to
the trees and touch each tree with the tips of his fingers. This he did,
and for the rest of the day there was quiet in the forest.

"More than any other superstition entertained by the slave Negroes, the
most harmful was the belief on conjurors. One old Negro woman boiled a
bunch of leaves in an iron pot, boiled it with a curse and scattered the
tea therein brewed, and firmly believed she was bringing destruction to
her enemies. 'Wherever that tea is poured there will be toil and
troubles,' said the old woman.