“Skeeter, I don’t hanker to wish no bad luck onto myse’f, but, please, suh, look an’ see do de book say anything about a wheel? I seed a wheel in my sleep las’ night.”
“Here ’tis,” Skeeter replied promptly. “Down close to de eend of de list. ‘Wheel--Is om-i-nous of evil.’”
“Dar now, Prince, you done got yourn,” Hitch Diamond bellowed.
“I knowed it wus somepin bad,” Prince remarked in a weak voice. “Nothin’ good don’t never happen to a nigger!”
Skeeter Butts dropped the book upon the ground, and it fell open with the laughing face of the gray-haired negro exposed to the view of the men sitting around him.
“Dat Swampo wus in cahoots wid de debbil, fellers,” Hitch remarked in a low tone, as he pointed to the picture. “He wus always potterin’ aroun’ wid buzzards an’ sich like. He teached me a song ’bout de turkey-buzzard when I wus jes’ a little shaver. It went like dis:”
“T-u tucky, t-u ti,
T-u tucky-buzzud eye!
T-u tucky, t-u ting,
T-u tucky-buzzud wing!”
“Aw, hush, Hitch!” Vinegar Atts bawled, as the lugubrious, recitative whine of this song greeted their ears. “Whut you wanter start somepin like dat fer?”
“I wus jes’ tellin’ you!” Hitch rumbled defensively.
“You niggers know whut?” Pap Curtain exclaimed, springing to his feet. “I’s gwine to de Little Moccasin Swamp an’ hide out till dis bad luck goes by.”