“Do they know Black Coyote there?”
“Wuh.”
“How far to sacred mountain where the moon child lives?” asked the scout abruptly.
“What Long Hair know?” asked the Indian, without change of countenance.
“I know she is there; I have seen her and talked with her—what does Black Coyote know?”
“Know heap: dare not tell; queen of stars keep Black Coyote out happy hunting ground.”
“The queen of the stars,” said the scout, “is a woman. She is tender and would have pity for the Indian baby. She will shut Black Coyote out of the happy hunting ground if he lets the papoose starve.”
The Indian hesitated. The scout had placed the matter in a new light.
“Would Long Hair tell the pale queen of the stars about papoose?”
“Yes, Black Coyote will tell Long Hair about the moon girl.”