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.”
“Boss, I is mos’ so weak I has got ter let you do de work, an’ you
see, sah, I is wounded, too.”
“Poor fellow!” Buffalo Rill glanced at a bullet wound in the negro’s
side.
Hastily the scout set to work, pitched his camp in a secluded spot on
the bank of a little stream, and, taking from his pack saddle a pair
of extra blankets, he spread them on the ground and told the negro to
lie down.
He quickly gathered some wood, built a fire among some rocks, and,
after staking out the horses, started to prepare a venison steak,
bacon, hoecake, and coffee for supper.
The negro would have eaten ravenously, so nearly starved was he, only
the scout made him go slow, and did not give him half what he craved.
“I’ll give you some more after a while; but now I’ll build a shelter
for you, as I think you’ll have to rest here for a few days, at
least.”
The shelter was built and made comfortable, and then the scout cut
off from the swollen, blistered, and bruised feet the deerskin
covering that served as shoes, took a liniment from his pack, and,
after having the man stand in the water for some time, put it upon
them, after which he dressed the wound in his side, which, though
painful, was not serious.
“Who gave you this?”
“A bad white man, sah, who pretended ter be my friend, but arter he
heerd my story, he shot me, an’ he meant ter kill me, only I got one
in on him, sah.
“Then I heerd a man call out, an’ voices talking, so I lit out,
thinkin’ they must be his frien’s, an’ I come rapid, sah, thinkin’ I
c’u’d reach the fort afore I died.”
Buffalo Bill was now convinced that the negro had a secret of
importance to tell, so he gave him another steak, some hoecake, and a
cup of coffee, and watched him eat it with the look of a half-starved
animal.
“I am mighty glad I met you, my man. What is your name?”
“Black Bill, dey calls me, sah.”
“All right, that is one bond between us, for my name is Bill. Did you
ever hear of Buffalo Bill?”
“Is I hear ob him, sah? Indeed I has, an’ dere ain’t nobody livin’
dat ain’t.”
“Well, I am Buffalo Bill.”
The look on the negro’s face at this information fairly startled the
scout.
“You is de very man I’s lookin’ fer,” exclaimed the negro finally,
after he had recovered from his surprise. “Yas, sah, I knows you is
Massa Buf’ler Bill, I does, as he tole me jist how ye looked.”
“Who did?”
“De gemman who sent me ter find yer, sah.”
“Who was it?”
“Massa John Hill, sah.”
“Ah! My old friend, John Hill?”
“Dat’s him, sah.”
“I thought he went East.”
“He did went dere, sah, but he come back.”
“Where is he?”
“Whar de debble c’u’dn’t fin’ him, sah, fer he do be los’.”
“Lost! Where?”
“In de Big Horn country, sah, whar I left him an’ t’others. Dere’s a
heap ob ’em, Massa Buf’ler Bill, men, wimmens, an’ chil’en.”
“When did they go there?”
“Months ago, sah. Yer see, sah, I ust ter b’long ter Doctor Miner, a
gent from de Souf, who hed los’ his fortin by de war; but I didn’t
leab him, sah, an’ we was comin’ West ter hunt gold, when we come
across a outfit of folks as was also gold huntin’, fer Massa John
Hill hed met ’em an’ tole ’em he know’d whar ter git it.
“So, sah, we all comed along an’ he guided us inter de Big Horn
country, an’ we go down inter a valley an’ make home dere.
“But dere was bad men in dat outfit, and four ob ’em one night tuk
blastin’ powder we fotch along an’ blow up rocks ter stop de only
path down a cañon we hed leadin’ inter or out ob dat valley.
“It were beautiful when we got dere, but dere were no way ob gittin’
out, sah, fer it were all around wid mount’in cliffs, an’ mount’in
sheep c’u’dn’t git out.
“Yer see, all de gold we hed dug was done by day an’ left up in de
cañon, de men goin’ home to de valley at night.
“Dat’s why dem four bad men got dat powder an’ blow up dat cañon, an’
we c’u’dn’t git out.”
“Yet, you did.”
“I has been a sailorman, sah, an’ I don’t git dizzy, an’ I said as
how I’d climb dem cliffs, an’ I did, by buildin’ ladders wid poles I
cut, choppin’ down a tree here an’ dere, an’ arter weeks of work I
got out, an’ den I fetch up my weepin an’ some grub, an’ Massa John
Hill he told me ter go ter Fort Fettermore an’ fine you, an’ tell you
he sent fer yer ter come an’ save dere lives; but ter tell no one
else but you, an’ when you come wid your scouts, you was ter bring
ropes in plenty, so as ter git ’em out of dat lonesome valley.”
“And those four men?”
“Dey overdid it, sah, fer dey didn’t git a horse, mule, or waggin out
ob de valley fust, an’ dey hed ter hoof it wid dere gold, or de gold
we all hed got, an’ carry it, an’ I guesses it were mighty slow work.
“I guesses, sah, dey set off de blow-up business afore dey was ready,
fer all de pervisions were in de valley, sabe what was kept in de
cabin on de cliffs fer de men’s dinner.”
“How long have you been on the trail, Bill?”
“’Bout a month, sah, fer I hed to reckon as how ter go, an’ got los’,
so my grub gin out, my ammunition, too, an’ I has hed a terribul
time, sah, so I had.”
“You look it; but you met white men on the way?”
“One, sah an’ heerd others. Dey was gold hunters, sah.”
“Not the four men who left the valley?”
“No, sah, dat one I seen wasn’t.”
“This is a strange story you tell me, Black Bill, but I believe you.”
“Praise de Lor’, sah, fer now you kin sabe ’em all.”
“I will try,” said Buffalo Bill firmly.