Crawford stood for a moment regarding the girl, wondering at her words. He remembered how Perrot had spoken of the Star Woman’s influence in his life. Could it be that Perrot was the father of this girl? Then whence had come her mother—a white woman, certainly? That would never be known now, for this girl herself knew nothing of her past.
As he stood, those glorious lapis eyes opened, swept up to meet his gaze, and a smile touched the lips of the Star Woman. In this smile, this look, there passed between the two something more than words could have told—a touch of the spirit beyond any speech. Then Crawford found the Dacotah chief at his elbow.
“My brother Black Kettle is calling!”
“Come.” With Standing Bull, Crawford turned to the trees of the grove, and rapidly passed among them, suddenly conscious that muskets had been banging all this while. When they sighted the outer barricade, Frontin saw them, wiped his powder-blackened face, and shouted:
“Four charges left, cap’n!”
“Come in, then.”
Followed by a hail of shafts, Frontin and the Mohegan came bounding across to the trees, carrying a musket each. From the outer forest was ascending a din of shouts, yells, long chorused chants, pierced by the bellow of Maclish. Crawford understood that the Stone Men were working themselves up to battle fury, singing the scalp dance, preparing for one final assault. He turned to Standing Bull.
“Call up your men. When the enemy come, let them take the outer breastwork, but hold the grove, falling back on the last defence. Frontin, go back to the crooked tree with the muskets. We must check them there until morning.”
Hardly had he spoken, when an up-pouring yell and a whistle of shafts betrayed that the Stone Men were advancing. Now the Dacotah came darting forward to occupy the grove, and as they did so, the enemy poured into sight from the farther trees, sending a hail of shafts over the breastwork into the grove, and Crawford caught a glimpse of Maclish urging them on from the rear.
Now the bows thrummed, and the long shafts sang down the level sunlight of waning afternoon. Men stumbled and died, or leaped in midair like stricken deer; but the defenders were all too few. Up to the outer barricade swept the yelling flood, paused for an instant, and then came surging over. Crawford shouted his men back, hurled his axe into the brain of the nearest Assiniboine, then went leaping for cover. Pealing up yells of triumph, the Stone Men burst across the barricade and flooded in upon the grove.