ousin had died and the same spade had been used in digging his grave.

"How my childish nature quailed at hearing the superstitions discussed,
I cannot explain. I have never believed in witchcraft nor spells, but I
remember my Indian grandmother predicted a long, cold winter when she
noticed the pelts of the coons and other furred creatures were
exceedingly heavy. When the breastbones of the fowls were strong and
hard to sever with the knife it was a sign of a hard, cold and snowy
winter. Another superstition was this: 'A green winter, a new
graveyard--a white winter, a green graveyard.'"

George Fortman relates how, when he accompanied two of his cousins into
the lowlands--there were very many Katy-dids in the trees--their voices
formed a nerve-racking orchestra and his cousin told him to tiptoe to
the trees and touch each tree with the tips of his fingers. This he did,
and for the rest of the day there was quiet in the forest.

"More than any other superstition entertained by the slave Negroes, the
most harmful was the belief on conjurors. One old Negro woman boiled a
bunch of leaves in an iron pot, boiled it with a curse and scattered the
tea therein brewed, and firmly believed she was bringing destruction to
her enemies. 'Wherever that tea is poured there will be toil and
troubles,' said the old woman.

"The religion of many slaves was mostly superstition. They feared to
break the Sabbath, feared to violate any of the Commandments, believing
that the wrath of God would follow immediately, blasting their lives.

"Things changed at the George homestead as they change everywhere," said
George Fortman. "When the Civil War broke out many slaves enlisted in
hopes of receiving freedom. The George Negroes were already free but
many thought it their duty to enlist and fight for the emancipation of
their fellow slaves. My mother took her family and moved away from the
plantation and worked in the broom cane. Soon she discovered she could
not make enough to rear her children and we were turned over to the
court to be bound out.

"I was bound out to David Varnell in Livingston County by order of Judge
Busch and I stayed there until I was fifteen years of age. My sister
learned that I was unhappy there and wanted to see my mother, so she
influenced James Wilson to take me into his home. Soon goodhearted Jimmy
Wilson took me to see Mother and I went often to see her."

Sometimes George would become stubborn and hard to cont