Their route did not lead over the Big Hill. They turned
north at Hobbett's corner, drove around by River Street, and presently
entered the northern end of the semicircle.
The speed of the car was reduced to a crawl in the bottomless dust of
the crescent. The head-lights swept slowly around the cabins on the
concave side of the street, bringing them one by one into stark
brilliance and dropping them into obscurity. The smell of refuse, of
uncleaned stables and sties and outhouses hung in the darkness. Peter
bent down under the top of the motor and pointed out his place. A minute
later the machine came to a noisy halt and was choked into silence. At
that moment, in the sweep of the head-light, Peter saw Viny Berry, one
of Nan's younger sisters, coming up from Niggertown's public well,
carrying two buckets of water.
Viny was hurrying, plashing the water over the sides of her buckets. The
importance of her mission was written in her black face.
"She's awful thirsty," she called to Peter in guarded tones. "Nan called
me to fetch some fraish water fum de well.
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