"The wind parted the fog and uncovered the moon,

who stood above the mountains in the west. Dimly, by

slitting her eyes, she made out the rim of bluffs that

marked the river s bed. There, below them, would be the

earthen lodges of her people. She began to run.

Standing on the edge, Mildred looked outward, seeing

a grayness filling the valley from side to side. She began

to cry. Somewhere under that curious covering were the

lodges she sought.

Then, from out the barren thickets, a pale form moved,

close enough that she saw but faintly the muzzle and

pointed ears, the long body and bushy tail. It walked

parallel to her on narrow legs.

Without hesitation, she followed it, crying, "Brother!

Lead Chephe to her lodge, for she knows not where it is.

Her eyes are old and cannot find it. Chephe ~ill follow

your trail."

The coyote was not frightened by her voice; his yellow

eyes had seen she carried no gun in her hands and had

noted her gait. It was a human, he knew, but one who

walked very slowly and with an odd limp and whose

voice was soft, not harsh.