CHAPTER XVI.
THE NEGRO MESSENGER.
“Well, my poor fellow, who and what are you?” asked Buffalo Bill, as he dismounted and stood before the vagabond negro.
“I’s mighty near starved ter death, an’ I’d died soon ef I hadn’t had you find me, boss,” was the answer. “I seen you comin’, and I lay low and was goin’ ter let you pass me by, sah, only I seen yer face, and know’d yer were a good man.
“If you had been an Injun, sah, or one ob dem bad white men I seen in dis country, I’d ’a’ jist pulled my gun on yer and got yer horse an’ rashuns ter eat, fer de Good Book do say dat preservin’ o’ one’s life am de bestest law o’ natur’, sah.”
“So you would have chanced killing me?”
“Yas, sah, and it w’u’d hev been a big chance, too, as I has got but one load in my gun an’ one in my revolver.”
“Well, I am glad you didn’t take the chances; but I would have found you, anyhow, as I intended to camp right here for the night.”
“Den I is sabed, sah, I is sabed, fer I gits somet’in to eat, an’ sabin’ me, sah, means a heap, fer dere is lives dependin’ dis werry minit upon dis nigger.”
“Where—— But you must be fed first, and then you can tell me. Sit there, and I’ll soon have a fire, and cook supper.”