There were many hints that spring was close at hand. Robins and cardinals flitted about among the tree-tops, squirrels scolded and chattered, and little wood-mice now and then scampered out from shelter. As the girls came out from the forest Berry stopped suddenly and looked about in delight. “The red-bud is in blossom!” she exclaimed, for the tall, slender “Judas-Trees” growing along the borders of the forest, and standing in small clumps in the open clearing, had put forth their crimson buds and blossoms, brightening the leafless branches, and making the woods glow with color.
“I knows dat tree; it’s de witch tree!” Lily declared solemnly. “Dat tree grow all ’bout in Alabamy. An’ all de niggers uster tell dat, ’long ’bout midnight, witches comes ter dese trees an’ meets up wid one anudder, an’ makes der plans!” and Lily shook her head, as if feeling it was hardly safe to speak of such dangerous subjects.
“Do you really believe it is a witch’s tree?” asked Berry.
“It shu’ be, Missie. Dat’s de reason it bust out, widout a leaf a-showin’, in Feb’ry! Sum ob dose Alabamy niggers knows a sight ob t’ings ‘bout witches. Ole mammy, what uster bang me right smart all de time I wus a-growin’ up, she uster say dat if yo’ could only be near one ob dese meetin’s ob witches at dese trees yo’d h’ar strange t’ings!” replied Lily, rolling her eyes solemnly. “It’s ’long ’bout dis time ob de year, w’en de blossoms show dat dey meets up an’ makes der plans,” she added.
“I wish I could see them,” said Berry thoughtfully; “and, if they were good witches, perhaps they would tell me where Mollie Bragg is, and when she is coming home.”
“Dar ain’ no sich thing as a ‘good’ witch, Missie!” said Lily. “I reckons dey might tell yo’ w’ot yo’ wants ter know if yo’ wus ter mak’ ’em promises,” she added thoughtfully.
Berry was now eager to know all that Lily could tell her, and, forgetting all about the butterwort, the two girls seated themselves on a moss-covered log near the “red-bud” trees, and Lily began the story she had so often heard on the Alabama plantation, of the proper way to secure the friendly assistance of a witch.
“’Course, Missie, yo’ knows jes’ w’ot a witch is. Dey’s a kind ob black woman, wid wings. An’ sometimes dey ain’ no bigger dan a spider, an’ ag’in, dey’s big as a house! I knows all ’bout ’em!” declared Lily. “I wus bro’t up ’mongst niggers w’ot had seen ’em! Yas, ’deed dey did!” and Lily nodded her woolly head so solemnly that Berry was convinced that her companion could tell her exactly the right manner to win the friendship of these powerful creatures who met at midnight beneath the blossoming Judas-tree.