"We believed you were there," she explained simply.
Despair had almost mastered her when she learned that Hector and his division had been transferred to Fort Walsh. But she had bravely turned her face to the new trail. That morning she had reached a spot some miles distant, pitched camp, made her father as comfortable as possible and pressed on to reach Fort Walsh before dark.
"I know that you will come," she ended.
For a moment he marvelled at the girl's strength and resolution.
Then he voiced another thought.
"But why did you come to me? You might have gone to your Indian agent—to any detachment. At Fort Macleod they would have helped you. Did you try them?"
"No," she said. "We wanted you. You! You alone can save him. We know you will give us what he needs. At Fort Macleod, they would not have helped us as you will help us."
"They would certainly have done so. I can do nothing more than they."
"You can save my father!" she repeated. "Say you will come!"
Hector tried to grasp the beauty and wonder of this thing. He had heard and seen a little of Indian fidelity and trust but until now had never guessed the depths they could fathom. Moon, travelling through all the difficulties confronting her, ignoring every hand that might have helped her, had come to lay her plea before him, with absolute faith that he alone could save her father. The thought humbled him.