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could never eat till all the White folks had seconds, then thirds, and then all the food was cleared from the table. He tore off a large piece of meat while Daylily and Caswell looked on. “Y’all just don’t know,” he blurted out with a full mouth, “how good that was!” He shook his head from side to side and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Think I’ll have me another little piece,” he said, pretending to reach for the rest of the meat.
    Daylily turned toward him with the gun in her hand, and Luke fell back laughing with delight. She grabbed her share and pushed the gun at him.
    â€œHere, you watch him, you crazy boy,” she said, tearing into the rabbit.
    â€œMan, you sho is hungry,” he said. “You is sho serious about that rabbit!”
    After his meal, Caswell demanded a drink from the river, and they all flopped down next to the river, watching the leaves and the clouds drifting up above. It was quiet until Luke said, “I smell something funny.”
    Daylily had smelled it too.
    â€œWhere you say your friend, you know, Butter . . .”
    â€œThey’s over there,” she said in a whisper. Luke turned and looked where she had pointed.
    â€œThey’s over there,” she said again in a whisper. The good rabbit rose in her throat.
    Luke’s mouth opened as if to say something. He blinked. “Naw,” he said. “Naw, it ain’t this close, is it?”
    She nodded furiously.
    â€œLes move then,” he said, gathering up his knife and rifle and stamping out the fire. The afternoon was on its way. “Les move out. We got to go. Somebody else sure to smell em soon. Soldiers thinking they’s needing to bury the dead. That smell be strong and then somebody find us. We got to walk away from here as fast as we can.”
    He felt his mam’s mojo around his neck. Folks that was murdered and dead before their time didn’t rest easy. He knew that.
    â€œI ain’t goin,” Caswell said all of a sudden. He hadn’t spoken in an hour.
    â€œYou is goin,” said Luke. “You don’t, I’ll go upside yo skinny head! Get over here.”
    â€œI ain’t. I’m goin to run away to the Burwell place. That’s where my Mamadear is and you can’t stop me!”
    Luke grabbed him by the arm, and the younger boy struggled to get free, but he was too small to give Luke much of a problem.
    â€œNow you march, you,” Luke said, “cause I ain’t gonna end up like them three over there on the ground, and Daylily neither.”
    Caswell was suddenly attentive. “What three?” he said, standing still.
    â€œThem three dead people, that’s what. Didn’t you hear that gal talkin bout Yankee soldiers killing Buttercup and her babies? Well, you run away like you want to, only you be sure you run in that direction toward them honeysuckle bushes.”
    Luke stuck out his arm in the direction none of them wanted to go. “You run right over there and look behind them bushes at them bodies and see does you want to be in these woods by yourself. Dead peoples be in these woods, that’s what, and Yankees done killed them. You still want to be goin to the Burwell plantation by yourself?”
    Caswell was speechless with fear. Dead people were worse than live Yankees and niggers put together, so he gave in, and they marched on along the riverbank, Luke trying to put as much distance between himself and the dead as possible, Daylily thinking how she didn’t want to think about buzzards, and Caswell howling into the failing afternoon sun.

CHAPTER 6
    TREASURE
    It was early September and so the heat was fickle, some nights warm and some bringing a slight chill. Last night’s rain had broken the heat, at least for now. They walked in silence once Caswell was tired of crying and Luke was tired of yelling at him to shut up. Up hill and down. It would be sunset soon. Luke started