And in all the World was no one I might Weep before, or that would Comfort me and leave me Unasham’d, save Shooba, the witch doctor, whom the slaves Fear for that he hath a Snake-soul and makes Charms and casts Spells.

’T is true, that Shooba hath a Spiritt.  When it worketh upon him he is Dull and Overcast and may not Labour untill it be gone.  And then will he rise and Speak strange and sometimes Terrible things, and Prophesy.  In the old times my Father smil’d, and let him be.  But here ’t is otherwise.  When Shooba’s Spiritt made him Heavy and Sleepy, and when he woke again and Spoke, mine Uncle’s new Overseer had the old man Whip’t.  Twice did this Happen before I knew of It.

Then went I to the Overseer, with Indignation, and said:  “Do not whip Shooba, any more.  ’T is Monstrous, to Whip an old man that hath a Spiritt!  ’T is not true he makes dissentions and plots Revolt among the slaves.  ’T is not true he is lazy & will not Work.  There is no better Workman than Shooba.  ’T is only true you are a cruel man and misuse your Power.”

Flick’d with his Whip his worsted Stockings.  Said in a hateful voice:  “’Taint your place, Miss, to be a-giving of orders to the Overseer.  I take orders only from them that has the right to Give ’em.  When I think that old Nigger ought to be whipt, whipt he ’ll be.”

Then march’d he to mine Uncle and ask’d was Mistress Jessamine to oversee the Overseer, and call him hard Names for the whipping of a Troublesome Nigger?  And my Uncle fell into a Fury With me.  Allowed the wretch to Triumph.  Shooba was whipt again.  I saw his Back.

Once old Shooba cur’d me of a pestilent Fever, with Simples, when I was a little Child, and our Leech had given me Over, nor did he Bleed me once.  Now Shooba’s Back was Bleeding, and I might not help him!

Now in the night I had gone secretly to his Hut to fetch him such poor little Comforts as I might secretly get & give.  He took them, & look’d at me long & long, with his brooding, deep, strange eyes.

“For the man that whipt me, I have sent forth my Snake.  My Snake will have a Thing to say to him.  The man will die.  Then laughed he, and hugg’d his knees.—­And ’t is true Meekins the Overseer one week later was bitten by a Serpent in the Field and died an Unlovely Death.

“Missy,” whispered Shooba, “in my country when I young, chief get mad with chief more stronger, not fight with spears.  Call Witch doctor and make Medicine.  Stronger chief, him come dead one day soon.  Maybe bumbye you and me make some Medicine?” My lips curl’d somewhat.  Poor old Shooba making medicine against the Hyndses.  “You go now and think some.  I stay here, and think some, too.  Maybe one time you find medicine.  Maybe one time my Snake find.”

     I went away, smiling sadly.  ’T would need strong medicine to
     heal me and Shooba!