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.
The story he told in detail was of fascinating interest to the lieutenant, who asked permission only to repeat it to his wife. The captain said it came to him from an Indian trailer who was familiar with that part of the Northwest, and said the Indians there told in whispers of a white queen, of Indian blood, who ruled the stars. They believed her to be the daughter of the moon, because of her pale beauty and great mass of yellow hair, which curled about her face like a halo.
This girl was said by the Indians to be of magnificent physical proportions and to fear nothing. She was supposed to be protected by the spirits, and great buffaloes and grizzly bears lay down and fawned at her feet. She was said by the red man to live upon a sacred mountain which none could scale, and to appear on its top in the moonlight conferring with the spirits. She was said to have a voice of such marvelous purity and sweetness that angels hovered near to listen and to applaud when she sang from the top of the mountain at evening. The Indians made offerings before the mountain and carried meat, fish, berries, and skins, which the rock itself swallowed up.
The captain said the Indian only had told him because he—the captain—had saved the red trailer’s life, and the latter had repeated the story as never before having been told for white men to scoff at. The red man had enjoined great secrecy, but the captain claimed that his curiosity had been excited, and he wanted some reliable white man to discover, if possible, upon what these Indian fairy tales were based.
Lieutenant Avery had promised to interest himself in the matter if he was ordered to Fort Phil Kearney. The country had been so graphically described to him that the young officer believed he could recognize the sacred mountain, if he should see it at a distance. It was said to be twenty miles from the fort in a northerly direction.
It was because of the captain’s story that the young lieutenant and his bride galloped northward one morning early, although warned by the officer in command to be constantly on the lookout for Indians, for they were becoming very troublesome in recent months. Although the couple had ridden out several miles in all directions during the first few days after their arrival, they had seen no Indian bands, and only an occasional lone red man after game or, more likely, headed for some fort or settlement for fire water or tobacco.
Avery was a daring fellow, and his young wife feared nothing when he was present. Their comradeship became proverbial at the military stations.
After the young couple rode away that morning their fate became a sealed book, and in due time the high army officials looked to Buffalo Bill to solve the mystery.
The Indians had suddenly appeared in numbers and constantly harassed the soldiers. Every mail brought news of atrocities all along the border of the Indian country. In this section the Cheyennes and Sioux were the terror of the frontiersman.