The snake’s body was as big as my arm and it was about five feet long when we stretched it out.
“You know, Poudlum, I’ve heard some people skin snakes, roast ’em, and eat ’em.”
“They do,” he confirmed, “and I have eat some before.”
“Was it good?”
“No, it tasted snaky to me, and I won’t eat ’em again. The skin is worth something, but I just ain’t got the stomach to handle it, except for these rattlers, unless you want ’em.”
“Naw, you take ’em. I’ll get the next set.”
“Lord, have mercy, I hope they ain’t no next set.”
Shortly after the rattlesnake encounter, we came upon a spring surrounded by giant hardwoods with hardly any undergrowth because the thick canopy overhead kept the sun from filtering through. We unfurled our tent and used the blunt side of our hatchets to drive the stakes for our tie ropes into the ground.
Once the tent was erected we stood back to admire it. Poudlum said, “Now we can sleep real snug in there, and the dogs will be out here to keep any varmints away.”
It was getting dark by the time we had gathered up a huge pile of dead limbs for our fire. After we fed the dogs we heated up a can of beans and had them with cheese and crackers, along with some of the sweet spring water.
Afterwards we spent a while beside the fire teaching Rip to use his paw to shake hands and to roll over. First we would do the tricks with Old Bill while Rip watched, then we would manually put Rip through the motions until he got so he would respond to the spoken command.
“He’s a smart dog, Poudlum, and he done everything Old Bill did today.”
“You think maybe tomorrow we could hold Old Bill back and see if he’ll pick up a scent on his own?” Poudlum asked.
“Yeah, I think he’s ready to try on his own. But right now, I think they’re tired,” I said as the two dogs curled up on the ground near the fire.
“I feel like curling up myself,” Poudlum said.
We crawled into our tent and stretched out on our blankets. Poudlum dug out the candles and the matches while I took the books out of my pack. Uncle Curvin had taken us by the library in Grove Hill before we went to Mister Autrey’s. I had checked out Robinson Crusoe and Poudlum got Treasure Island. We always got different books and after each of us had read the one we had selected, we would trade and read the other one. That saved us from an extra trip to the library.
I had gotten to the part where Mister Crusoe had been captured by the Moors and made into a slave when my eyes got droopy.
I looked over, and by the light of the flickering candle, it looked like Poudlum was already asleep. I blew out the candle and gathered the blanket about myself, expecting to go right on off to sleep, but sleep evaded me.
My thoughts kept returning to what Mister Autrey had said before we left, about Miss Lucretia living back in these woods. It was strange enough that an old lady lived all alone way back in these woods, but it was the ominous and warning tone which he had used when speaking of her that bothered me.
Finally, when sleep seemed impossible, I turned over and whispered, “Hey, Poudlum, are you awake?”
When there was no response, I reached over and gently shook his shoulder and repeated my question.
When he roused up, he said, “Well, I was asleep. What’s the matter?”
“Ain’t nothing wrong,” I reassured him.
“You always wake people up in the middle of the night when nothing’s wrong?”
“No, not usually. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t sleep ’cause I got to ask you a question.”
I could tell he sensed something was indeed wrong because he sat up and said, “What is it you want to ask me?”
I realized then that I hadn’t even formed the question in my mind, and I hesitated while Poudlum waited patiently.
When it came to me, I asked, “What was Mister Autrey talking about just before we left, when he told us Miss Lucretia lived way back in these woods?”
There was another long silence before Poudlum finally said, “He was just telling us she lived in these woods so we would know.”
“No, there was more to it than that. He said it like a warning and told us to stay away from her or any sign of her.”
More silence, then Poudlum said, “You sure you really want to know?”
“Yes! That’s why I woke you up. I can’t sleep just thinking about it.”
“All right, then,” Poudlum said in a hushed tone, “she’s the last voodoo queen!”
I thought maybe I had misunderstood him, so I asked him what he had said. He repeated it, adding, “She’s the last of her kind and most folks don’t want nothing to do with her. Mister Autrey’s kind enough to let her live back here so nobody won’t know about her and she won’t bother nobody.”
“But you know about her?”
“Lots of colored folks do, but most don’t want nothing to be known about her.”
“How come?”
“Cause voodoo is a kind of religion brought here from Africa by slaves. They used to have priests and priestesses, but it has just about died out, and like I said, Miss Lucretia is the last of the Snake People.”
“Did you say Snake People?”
“Uh huh.”
“Why you call them that?”
“Cause voodoo is always represented by some kind of snake. Most folks have come to realize snakes ain’t worth worshiping, and they ain’t even good to eat.”
“You said most folks?”
“A few still seek out what white folks would call a lucky piece or a lucky charm, you know, like a rabbit’s foot or something similar.”
“What kind of luck charm can you get from a voodoo queen?”
“They’s lots, but what they claim is the most powerful is a fire rock.”
“What’s that?”
“A piece from a rock that’s been shattered by lightning.”
“Does your momma and ’em know about Miss Lucretia?”
“Shore do, and I’d be in a mess of trouble if my momma knew where we are hunting. I just told her I was going with you, but I didn’t say where. She says folks who practice voodoo can’t do it without drinking whiskey and dancing all night.”
I was intrigued with the subject and pressed on even though in the back of my mind I felt like Poudlum was uncomfortable about it. “What else do they do besides make lucky charms and drink and dance?”
“Well, they claim they can heal people.”
“Heal them from what?”
“Anything from a broken neck to ailments of the heart, like love.”
“Can they really do that?”
“My momma says they can’t even cure they own headaches from drinking all night.”
“What else do they claim to do?”
“Lots of stuff.”
“Please tell me some.”
“Well, they claim to be able to tell