The boy responded sharply on his horn, keeping well out of sight, and the Indians were puzzled as to its source. From their actions the scout judged that it sounded to them as if it came from the top of the butte. They pointed and looked in that direction, and then back toward the fissure where the party of whites and their horses were hidden. “I guess if I had my ghost fixed up it would finish the job,” said Tootsie. “Mebbe some o’ them aire ther same fellers ye s’luted berfore,” suggested Nomad. “Try them with another ‘advance,’” said the scout. This was sufficient. The Indians wheeled their horses and dashed away, in half an hour disappearing beyond a mound of the rolling plain to the west. The pards were so intently watching the Indians that they heard no sound until a voice beside them said: “Pardon me, sir, may I ask about the old Indian, Black Coyote, and his child?” The pards doffed their hats with amusing celerity, and Buffalo Bill, stepping forward, introduced himself and the members of his party. “Are you Pa-e-has-ka, the Long Hair, of whom I have heard so much?” she asked. “I am Buffalo Bill among the white people of the West,” he answered, “and the Indians have called me Pa-e-has-ka.” She extended her hand to him and then to the others. “I am ‘Little Moonbeam’ to the red people,” she said, “and my only white friend, Mrs. Sherley, calls me Mona. The red folk regard me as daughter of the moon and queen of the stars, because my goings and comings mystify them.” “An’ I don’t blame ther Injuns, nuther!” interjected Nomad, unable to conceal his admiration. The scout then told of the aged Indian and little girl, and their pitiful condition. If some one did not watch over them, he told her, they would soon starve. Black Coyote had told him of the queen of the stars, and had expressed the desire, which he seemed to think hopeless, that he might communicate with her before he should die. “He seemed to think the daughter of the moon would care for his helpless child,” the scout added. “I will see him before the sun comes over the hills again,” she told him. “May we not escort you to the tepee of Black Coyote?” the scout asked. She smiled indulgently, and answered: “I should be far safer alone, and I could find the tepee of Black Coyote in the blackest night, although he does not know it.” “Perhaps you knew of their troubles,” suggested the scout. “No; he was well and provided with buffalo meat the last time I was there--but I have been very busy of late and have not paid them a visit,” she answered, as if regretting the neglect. “If you cannot well go to see him now I will visit him in the morning and provide food for several days, and tell them you are coming,” said the scout. “No, I shall go very soon, although I thank you.” “Very well; it is for you to choose. But we are at your service, my pards and I.” “Now that you have performed the errand for Black Coyote you had better make haste back to the fort,” she said.