Not succeeding in this, they landed about nine o’clock in the morning, to rest, and to make their breakfast with the scant remains of the food which they had taken with them; and of which there was enough left only to sharpen their appetites, not to satisfy them. The shore was low and marshy, and, although it was thickly wooded, they had no means of procuring game; and they soon departed in search of a more hospitable region. Nearly the whole day was spent in this quest, and late in the afternoon they again debarked on a bolder shore in a prairielike region, with little timber in view, yet with some elevated land in the background. Here they hoped to find some human habitation, and an hour’s search by the scattered party resulted in the discovery of a cluster of Indian wigwams, nearly a hundred and fifty in number, on the edge of a strip of woodland not far from the lake shore. This was a doubtful advantage, for it was of course uncertain whether the savages--who were probably a branch of the Sioux nation--would prove friendly or hostile; but it was argued that from their position the Indians must have seen the boats coasting their territory, and that if they were evil-disposed they would already have attacked the white men while they were separated from each other. They drew together for consultation, and being impelled by extreme hunger--and, indeed, by fear of starvation--they decided to apply to the red men for food. They would not go in a body, but would send one or two of their number, in order that their own pacific intentions might be understood; for they thought it not improbable that the warriors of the little village, at least equal in number to their wigwams, were in the wood watching their movements. “Let Joe go,” said Buffalo Bill. “The Indians are very partial to colored men, and----” “Is dey?” said Congo, who, when sober, had a penchant for big words, and sometimes got hold of a larger one than he could manage. “Den dare sentiments isn’t ’ciprocated, sah--they’se not at all mutoo-toot-tual, sah!” “And, besides, if the worst comes to worst, you owe me a life.” “Yes--dat ar is fact, Massa Cody, but nobody pays debts nowadays, sah. De gemmen are all failin’, sah, an’ goin’ into solvency, and I don’t t’ink I can pay more’n twenty cents on de dollar on dat debt, sah.” “Very good, Joe,” said the captain, “but suppose we should raise a purse for you of a hundred dollars. How then?” “Well, sah, dat is anudder p’int of view. I’ll ’volve it a little. Maybe dar is nobody dar. Den you’ll gib it to me all de same?” “Certainly.” “And some day I’ll git up airly and run away. But maybe dey kill me?” “I don’t believe they would, Joe.” “Nor I, too--not ef I go polite, sah. But ef dey should, den my wife----” “She shall have the money--oh, yes.”