The scout told Tootsie of his surmise, and the boy was filled with a desire to get near enough to hear and see the ceremonies. So they made their way through a difficult gulch and scaled the butte beyond which the chanting of the red men now could be heard. There were twoscore of the braves, and a part of the services consisted of prancing in file around a pot of water which was sending up a great volume of steam from where it hung over a bright fire. Occasionally a rock was pulled from the fire with sticks and dropped into the pot to increase the volume of steam; then the Indians would caper around the pot, chanting loudly, waving their arms, and now and then darting up to brush hands and arms through the ascending steam. “I’d like to see what they would do, if I blowed a good blast on my bugle,” said Tootsie. “You might wish you hadn’t tried it, before it was over,” said the scout. “Couldn’t we keep out of sight and mystify them?” “They would probably go back up the gully where they could climb the cliff and come up to investigate.” “What do you suppose they would do if a tall white figure stood out here in the moonlight and waved its arms and I blowed the bugle at the same time?” “They would shoot at the tall white figure,” laughed the scout. “Suppose the ghost kept right on waving its arms and blowing the bugle?” “Then I think you’d have them stampeded.” “Will you let me try it?” “Where is your ‘tall white figure?’” The boy pulled from under his blouse a roll of white. The goods was plain cotton, and inside was a jointed arrangement of hollow reeds with strings running through them. These he adjusted skillfully and lifted the figure erect. By pulling strings at the bottom the arms waved weirdly in the moonlight. The scout was amused and decided not to interfere with the boy’s plans. Tootsie found a desirable position where he could approach the very edge of the cliff, and, lying flat, peep down at the Indians, and at the same time operate his dummy and blow the bugle. Buffalo Bill found a similar position almost directly over the heads of the Indians. Tootsie stood his figure on the edge of the cliff as though it were dancing on air, and then gave a triumphant bugle call. The Indians below scattered instantly, seizing arms of all sort before they looked for the cause. Another “tar-ta-ta-tar--ta-ta-tar!” and they looked up and saw the strange human form swaying in the moonlight. Slowly the arms began to rise, and when they were wide extended there came a loud, strong blast, sinking away into a faint imitation that sounded like an echo. The Indians were irresolute. They hardly knew whether to attribute the strange scene to supernatural demonstration or trickery. They held brief council and then one stepped back, and taking deliberate aim, fired. He was answered by a defiant blast and wild waving of the arms, as the figure danced along the edge of the rock for a few feet and back.