“Well, say your word!” exclaimed Maclish, baring his yellow fangs. “Those young men of mine are impatient. Do you go back to Albany, or shall we finish you off?”
“I don’t go back, that’s certain,” said Crawford, eyeing him steadily. “All I ask you is to spare those men of mine. Let them go in peace.”
“So!” Maclish laughed at this. “You’d sooner stay under the snow, eh? Have it any way ye like, man. I’ll be going on to find the Star Woman—hey! What deil’s business is this?”
He swung around, the agile movement betraying that his brawn was all corded sinew. From the trees, near and far, were sounding sharp staccato yelps, indicating the large force of men concealed; then appeared figures leaping into sight, shouts flinging back and forth. Even Crawford comprehended that something eventful had occurred.
After a moment two Indians left the trees, starting forward toward the group. One of them was stumbling, exhausted, his snowshoes draggling as he walked. The other was obviously a chief—the chief of the Stone Men with Maclish. The Scot, who must have comprehended what the shouting meant, spat an oath and then stood frowning. Crawford, alert to snatch at whatever might turn up, waited in silence.
The two redskins came forward across the snow. The messenger panted out swift words, accompanying them by pantomime which showed that he had been drawn to this place by the smoke of Crawford’s fire. That he was not one of Maclish’s party was fairly evident from his manner. Maclish heard him out, heard a word from the chief, then swore fervently and looked at Crawford.
“The deil’s luck! A message for ye, Crawford,” he said, snarling. “This lad and two others were hunting, were caught by some Dacotah, and the others were killed. This lad was sent back with a message, and the chief says ye must have it.”
“What’s the message?” demanded Crawford. Maclish eyed him sullenly, but delivered it.
“That two chiefs sent by the Star Woman expect to meet ye at the Spirit Lake. News of you has gone on, eh? Now, what d’ye know of it?”
Crawford shook his head in negation. Looking from the angry Scot to the Assiniboine chief, he swiftly weighed and sifted the matter, while Frontin muttered behind him. He saw suddenly that Maclish no longer dared murder him; this direct message from the Star Woman had disturbed the Stone Men in most singular fashion—they regarded it as an interposition at a critical moment. Though foes of the Dacotah, these Stone Men greatly dreaded the Star Woman, and would not dare prevent Crawford going to meet her emissaries. At the same time, Maclish was not a man to be easily cheated of his prey.