Sure that wherever the Blackfeet were they did not now see him, Nomad dismounted, and, removing a blanket he carried in a roll behind his saddle, he tore it into strips and wrapped them round the hoofs of his horse, so that he would leave no trail. A trailless route would make it troublesome for even the keen-eyed Blackfeet to follow him. Descending the mountain now by a zigzag path, and making, besides, several changes in his course, Nomad succeeded in reaching lower ground. Here he mounted Nebuchadnezzar again, and rode off in a new direction; but several times changed his course, in his efforts to baffle the Blackfeet. While he was thus riding on, he was astonished by hearing his name spoken. He reined in and faced about, staring in surprise. “By ther great jumpin’ jack rabbits, ef that ain’t ther queerest ever!” he grunted. “Somebody callin’ ter me hyer, at a p’int whar thar ain’t nobody!” A pebble came rolling down the side of the hill, the suddenness with which it bounced out at him making him jump. He saw that it had come from a clump of aspens on the hillside not far away. His ancient rifle swung around with a quick motion, and the muzzle was elevated toward the aspens. “Hi, there! Don’t shoot,” a voice called. “Like Davy Crockett’s coon, I’ll come down.” Then a hand appeared, pushing some leaves aside, and, following this hand, came the body of a man. Nomad gasped his amazement when he saw the clothing and face of this man. Before him stood Buffalo Bill. Though Nomad’s astonishment was deep, he did not forget the peril in which he was placed at that time. “Stand whar ye aire, Buffler!” he called. “The pizen reds aire rompin’ round, and aire after my ha’r. Ole Crazy Snake is reachin’ fer me with his fangs.” He guided his horse up to the aspens where the scout stood; the scout asking questions, which he did not then answer. “Buffler, I’m gladder ter see ye than ef I’d found a gold mine! Got yer hoss hyar?” “Yes; just back here in ther trees.” “Then, fer Heaven’s sake, muffle him, and git out with me, ’fore ther reds finds this spot,” the old trapper urged. “I’m huntin’ fer a hole ter hide in, till Crazy Snake and his Blackfeet villyuns leave this kentry; and it’ll be healthy fer you ter do ther same quick’s ye kin.” Buffalo Bill did not know until then that Crazy Snake had actually taken to the warpath, though he had known there were rumors of war trouble, and that a number of whites had been murdered. He shook hands with old Nomad, and asked him some more questions. This time Nomad answered: “I’ve give ’em a good start, and balled ’em some, Buffler, but they ain’t easy ter fool.” “I know that, Nomad,” the scout answered; “but I think we can fool them.”