They were a detachment who had been sent out to forage in the larders of the garrison. Although their language was unknown to me, their object was perfectly intelligible. They signified their wants with a clearness of gesticulation which could not be misunderstood, and the earnestness of which was, no doubt, enhanced by a keen appetite. Seeing that there was no alternative, I called to our half-breed boy,— “Joseph!” “Vat you vant?” sounded a voice from the dark cavern below, which was dignified with the name of a kitchen. “Have you any meat or bread for these Indians?” “Sacre diable!” answered he, “Vare de devil I to git meat for dem? I h’aint eat none my own sef, for tree day, nor Mordecai neder.” This was not altogether true, but it was conclusive; so I returned to my dusky friends with the heavy intelligence. There are two characters in this world, whom it is impossible to convince of the truth of any thing which jars with their own opinions or interests; the first is a politician, the second is a hungry Indian. I soon found it out—my red visiters were immoveable—they were deaf both to arguments and to statements of facts. They heard me—they understood me—but they were not a whit nearer to conviction, and they made no motion to depart. There was no resource left, so I determined to abdicate in their favour; and taking up my hat I left the house, and strolled off in the woods. It was near sunset when I returned to my quarters. I opened the door of the chamber and looked in. “Ho! ho! ho!” sounded a dozen guttural voices from within. My red friends were there still, waiting for my coming. I closed the door instantly, and walked off with a hasty step to the quarters of one of the officers; nor did I return until late at night, when I found that they had disappeared. I afterwards learned that they had been supplied with provisions on the morning previous, and that they were now carrying on the business of begging for mere amusement. When the night grew dark, there was a bright fire gleaming under the old oak tree where they had taken their station, and the whole group were huddled together around it. From the piazza in front of our quarters we could see their forms flitting round the blaze, and could hear their song as it rose up in the damp air, with a wildness not unmixed with melody. The day was past, and they were now enjoying the present moment with their usual happy forgetfulness of toil. In the morning we again visited the spot which they had selected for their camp; but it was deserted. The embers had fallen to ashes—the fire was extinguished—and the whole wild troop had again set out upon its wanderings. CHAP. VII. THE KANZAS CHIEF. Two days after the departure of the Kanzas band we were seated in our chamber, when a heavy muffled tread jarred upon the piazza in front of us. A large Indian passed the window, and a moment after he entered the room.