saw that it was filled with salt of the coarse kind used to preserve
meats.

Ben felt carefully in the salt, drew forth a shriveled piece of dark
gristle, and held it up before his young master.

"Yer know what dat is, Marse Custis?"

Custis shook his head.

From the old man's tones of deep emotion he knew the matter was serious.
He thought at once of the Hoodoo. But he could make out no meaning to
this bit of preserved flesh.

"Never saw anything like it."

"Nasah. I spec yer didn't."

Ben pushed the gray hair back from his left ear. He wore his hair drawn
low over the tips of his ears. It was a fad of his, which he never
allowed to lapse.

"See anything funny 'bout de top o' dat year, sah?"

Custis looked carefully.

"It looks shorter--"

"Hit's er lot shorter. De top ob hit's clean gone, sah. Dat's why I
allus combs my ha'r down close over my years--"