The words of the Mohegan had summoned up all Crawford’s iron will, and he drove himself onward. His upper body was a mass of sears and blisters, his skin cracked and blackened, his flesh scorched; the least movement sent quivers of agony through every complaining muscle and the knife-wound across his ribs had let out much of his strength. He set will to conquer flesh, and succeeded, though every slash of whipping tree-limbs and bushes in the darkness brought new pain. Old Le Talon was scarce in better shape. That one knife-slash had nearly hamstrung his leg and each step was dragging torture, yet the grim chief forged ahead in silence, feeling his way by instinct toward the distant camp he had left.
For an hour the two men stumbled on, staggering, limping, slowly reaching the limit of mortal endurance. Then it was the Indian, whose fountain of strength was more severely drained, who gave way. Le Talon leaned on his musket and uttered a low groan.
“The eyes of Le Talon are dim,” he said faintly.
“Send up a yell,” gasped Crawford.
The chief lifted his head, drew a deep breath, sent a cry quavering toward the starry splendours above. Crawford, leaning weakly against a tree, suddenly started erect; to that cry came an answer, a response in a voice that he knew. A hoarse shout broke from him.
“Frontin! Au secours!”
“Ay, cap’n,” came the faint reply.
Thus heartened, the Mohegan got out his firebag, got a spark in his tinder, got a tiny blaze running into the heart of a dead birch. In five minutes the fire was being hastily stamped out again, and Frontin was rushing up to them in the darkness, with him a dozen eager young Dacotah warriors—comprising both his own party and that of Le Talon. Frontin was bursting with news, and poured it out hurriedly in the darkness.
“We found the Star Woman, cap’n!” he exclaimed. “That’s Le Talon with you, eh? We ran onto his camp and were waiting to get his report on the fire-glow in the sky. That rogue Maclish has a cursed big force of men—we caught one of the Assiniboines and made him talk. Eighty or ninety warriors all told. We can’t break through to reach Perrot.”
“He’s safe enough behind them,” said Crawford.