“Dis ain’t no place for me,” he grunted, and 
began to paddle with all his might, the snake 
meanwhile lying coiled in the prow. But before 
he could gain the land the boat filled and he 
found himself sitting to his waist in the water. 
Just then a buzzard he knew well, called ‘Bill 
Two-feathers,” sailed by, and he had another 
scare. However, in the end the snake slid over- 
board and, as the water was not deep, Pete 
climbed out into the lilies and in time dragged 
the boat ashore. 
Bill Two-feathers had been about the plan- 
tation for a long time. Of late he had attracted 
the attention not only of the darky families 
living in the quarters, but he was known also 
to the colored servants up at the big plantation 
house where the white folks lived. Two quill 
feathers of one wing were gone, hence the name 
that had been given him. 
When Pete came up to the cabin with his six 
small fish and dripping with water, Aunt Celia 
first scolded him soundly and then made him 
sit by the fire to dry. 
“You certainly is gwine to die with misery in 
107 
