To penetrate directly into the breastworks would have meant instant discovery by Bascomb and Bernritter. To avoid this, and yet develop some information that might later prove useful, the scout began crawling around the island’s shore on his hands and knees. This maneuver presently brought him to the side of the island where the moonlight lay full upon the rocks. What he saw in the moonlight gave him a start. By a boulder, just below the breastworks, sat a woman. Her hands were lying in front of her in her lap, and the scout could see that they were bound. Her ankles, stretched down the flinty slope, were also bound. In addition to these cords, a rope was tied about her waist and passed around the boulder. After the first flush of surprise, a fierce anger against the miscreants who could treat a woman in such a way arose in the scout’s breast. The prisoner, of course, was Annie McGowan. And it was the man she supposed she was going to marry who had brought upon her this humiliation and danger! Muttering to himself, Buffalo Bill arose softly to his full height and peered about him. From behind the boulder breastwork he heard a sudden mumbling of voices. Bascomb and Bernritter were there! If they two were alone on the island with the girl, the daring notion ran through the scout’s brain that he might be able to effect a rescue. Farther along the moonlit shore he could see clumps of brush and could hear the trampling of horses. But he could see no other men. Whatever he did, the scout realized must be done quickly. Giles was supposed to be transporting the supplies from the main shore to the island; unless those back of the breastworks heard sounds indicative of such labor, their suspicions would be presently aroused. Dropping to his hands and knees, the scout crept up behind the bound girl. Her head was bowed and she did not hear his approach. To avoid a possible alarm which the girl’s surprise might cause her to give, and which would effectually block the scout’s game of rescue, he reached forward and clasped one hand over the girl’s lips. She straightened her shoulders suddenly and tried to scream, but the hand over her mouth stifled the sound. “Don’t make any noise,” whispered the scout in the girl’s ear. “I am a friend, and am going to try and take you from the island. But, if I succeed, you must not make any noise. Bascomb and Bernritter are within a few yards of us, and if they heard what I was doing, they would shoot. Do you understand? I am Buffalo Bill, and I have come from your father.” Whether it was the magical name of “Buffalo Bill,” standing for so much of chivalry and daring throughout the West, or whether it was the scout’s mention of her father, the girl became pacified at once, and apparently plucked up courage and hope. The scout removed his hand.