“Watch yourself, Maclish! There may be other Dacotah stationed among the rocks, so go slowly. Their message seems to be for you.” He lifted his voice and called. “Ho, Frontin! Leave the guns and come along.”
“You will see that I speak truly,” he said to the two chiefs. “My medicine has sent me to meet you, that you may take me with you to seek the Star Woman. I shall go with you, and her heart will be glad. Look, here is my medicine!”
He laid bare the star of gold and emeralds, and at closer sight of this Star of Dreams, astonishment seized the two red men. Obviously, they had heard that the man seeking the Star Woman carried this jewel; they were visibly shaken by sight of it, knowing not what to say or do. Its effect upon them was profound, and it also plunged them into perplexity.
Now Frontin came scrambling over the rocks, and their eyes shifted to him. When he spoke in French, they grunted in recognition.
“Death of my life!” said he coolly, looking at the dead men. “This is a pretty scene!”
“Join me and smoke.” Crawford seated himself opposite the Dacotah. The younger of these leaned forward and pointed at the star.
“What is the name of this medicine? Why does not the Red Bull wear it?”
Crawford laughed slightly and evaded. “It is the Star of Dreams, and it came to me from afar, in order to lead me to the Star Woman.”
There was in his voice a certain surety which was impressive—for he himself had now come to believe in this jewel. This sincerity made itself felt as no mere words would have done.
Yet the gamble was a stiff one; and had not Maclish been so fumbling with his French, the affair might have gone otherwise, for the Scot was nobody’s fool. He, however, comprehending that the message had somehow been turned to him, mastered his anger and once more became the coolly dangerous rascal. Seating himself, he growled that he would accept the belts which had been sent.