up before us. I at once stepped
forward to let down a gap, but Salome halted me.

"The idea!" she declared. "I don't mind that at all. You stand just
where you are, and turn your back; I'll call you when I'm over."

I blushed, and obeyed.

A wheat-field of billowy gold stretched before us when I joined her. A
narrow path ran through it, curving sinuously, as a path made by chance
will. This we followed, Salome going in front. The wheat was ready for
the reaper, and the full heads were swelled to bursting. Salome gathered
some, threshed them between her hands, blew out the chaff, and offered
me part of the grain, eating the other herself. It was pasty, but not
unpleasant, and I ate it because it was her gift. We were walking
peacefully along, through the waist-high grain, when Salome gave a
little scream and jumped back, plump into my arms. Even in my excitement
I saw the tail of a black snake vanishing across the path. I released
her quickly, of course, but the touch of her figure was like wine in my
veins.

"I beg your pardon!" she said humbly; "but the ugly thing frightened
me. It darted out so quickly, and I almost stepped upon it. You couldn't
get one of the negroes to follow this path any farther. They are very
superstitious, you know, and are firm believers in signs."

"I'm sorry you were startled so; perhaps I had better go in front," I
ventured.

"No; you sha'n't. I'm not really afraid of snakes, except when I run
upon one unexpectedly. I kill them when I get a chance."

And so she started out again in advance of me, and began telling the
various beliefs of the negroes. I learned from her that their lives were
almost governed by "signs," and that some very trivial thing would deter
them from a certain course of action. There were ways to escape the
spell of witches, to avoid snakes, and to keep from being led into a
morass by jack-o'-lanterns. This folk-lore of the darkies was
exceedingly interesting to me, told in the charming manner which
characterized the speech of my companion.

The wheat-field ended at the pike, and here another fence was passed in
the same manner as the first one. Then we swung down the dusty road
together, side by side. To the right and left of us dog-fennel was
blooming, and the "Jimpson" weed flared its white trumpets in a brave
show. Occasionally a daisy lifted its yellow, modest head, and Salome
took great delight in getting me to tell her which was daisy and which
was fenn