“’Member what I said erbout angels?” asked Nomad, staring up dizzily at the top, which seemed wavering against the sky. “Mars’ Billyum, Ah reckons ’twouldn’t do no harm ’f Ah should jes’ holler a few words o’ United States so’s de lil’ missy won’t t’ink we’s Injuns,” suggested Skibo. “I think there is no need of it, Skibo,” answered the scout, who, with head thrown back, had been studying the top of the rock. As the scout spoke a hush fell over all the pards, for there had suddenly appeared on the very edge of the pinnacle a girlish figure quaintly dressed and looking down at them. The scout and Wild Bill doffed their sombreros and the former shouted: “Can we be of service to you, young lady?” “No, sir; I think not. I am as free as the air and the birds, and care not for the ways of the world or its people.” “Are you alone?” he asked. “Why should you ask? If I am happy and need nothing of the world, why should it care whether I am alone or not? The dark-skinned people of the plain respect my desires and call me, in their tongue, the daughter of the moon. I go and come as I wish among them. But the dark-skinned people hate the white-skinned people and hope to drive them into the sea. Even now I can see, far across the plain, a large party of mounted warriors who come this way. If my white-skinned brothers remain here they will be slain or taken prisoners. “Go that way”--and she pointed to the south and east. “Two miles on you will find a river. Follow it far and keep well to the timber, for on both sides the country swarms with red brothers who are hostile to the white brothers. Go! and tell the white people who ask, that I am the mystery of the lone rock.” She disappeared, and the scout and his pards turned away as she had directed, but not until Buffalo Bill had discovered the crevice which the mirage had revealed, leading from far away toward the river to the base of the butte. He mistrusted that some hidden entrance led under the bluff to the hollow interior which the inverted cone had shown. CHAPTER XXXIV. TRAGEDY OF THE PLAIN. Lieutenant Avery had been sent from Fort Leavenworth to Fort Laramie, thence to Fort Fetterman and on to Fort Phil Kearney. At each place he and his bride, both of whom were passionately fond of horseback riding, had taken long gallops into the surrounding country. Before he had left the Yellowstone, to Lieutenant Avery had been confided a secret by a brother officer. This captain had asked young Avery not to mention the legend, which was of the country to the northward of Fort Phil Kearney. He had suggested that Avery, if he should be sent to that fort, should investigate, in a quiet way, the foundation of the Indian belief.