Scarcely had I taken ten steps before I saw that he was following, and as I wheeled to front him the fellow made a painful effort to address me in English.
"Mornin', sah," he said, making a deep salutation with his entire body.
"Am you dat Englisher Massa Benteen from up de ribber ?" Leaning upon my rifle, I gazed directly at him in astonishment.

How, by all that was miraculous, did this strange black know my name and nationality?
His was a round face, filled with good humor; nothing in it surely to mistrust, yet totally unknown to me.
"You speak correctly," I made reply, surprise evident in the tones of my voice.

"I have no reason to deny my name, which is held an honest one here in New Orleans.

How you learned it, however, remains a mystery, for I never looked upon your face before." "No, sah; I s'pects not, sah, 'cause I nebber yet hab been in dem dere parts, sah.

I was sent yere wid a most 'portant message fer Massa Benteen, an' I done reckon as how dat am you, sah." "An important message for me?
Surely, boy, you either mistake, or are crazy.