Maclish was not the only one to stare. From the islet ahead rang out a sharp exclamation, and the three men looked up. They saw a queer creature standing there on the rocks gazing at them--a tall Indian, over whose head was flung the skull and robe of a bison, the fur cloaking his body. At that grotesque and horned apparition all three gazed, transfixed. “Come!” To their still greater astonishment, the crested figure spoke in French. “Smoke the calumet. Come!” Crawford could not tell whether this were an invitation or not, but he comprehended that sight of the star at his throat had brought the apparition. “_Kola!_ Friend!” said that singular creature perched against the blue sky, and flung out empty hands. “The Star Woman sent us to meet you. Come.” Then the figure vanished. The islet was bare and empty again. “No spirit, but a trap,” said Frontin, first to recover speech. “There are our messengers--and have a care, cap’n!” “Deil take me,” snorted Maclish, “but yon man spoke French! From the south, belike.” “Of course,” said Crawford quietly. “Frontin, wait here with the muskets. It’s no trap, but we’ll not take chances.” He passed his musket to Frontin. “Coming with me, Maclish?” “Oh, ay.” Crawford resumed his course, Maclish at his elbow. Between these two men had passed few words since the previous day. Hatred lay between them, and fear. Maclish was a subtle and a canny man, but he could not fathom the stern silence and self-control of Crawford. Nor had the latter missed certain indications which warned him that Maclish was even now carrying on some treacherous game. The Stone Men had sent up lengthy smoke-signals which he could not read, and messengers had departed. It was tacitly understood that after meeting the Dacotah envoys, the quarrel between the two men would be settled--Maclish doubtless counting on murdering both Frontin and Crawford. Now, gaining the shore ice, Crawford passed in among the hummocks, gained the rocks beyond, and mounted them. He heard Maclish coming to his side, and then jumped down. It was a hideous scene which greeted the two men, a scene which could not fail to give the impression intended. Here was a hollow among the rocks, and in the centre of it a blackened space of old fires showing that the Dacotah envoys had been camped here for some little time. In the centre of this blackened area now blazed a fire of a few dry sticks--a very tiny fire, without smoke or heat, serving only to keep the red spark of life in being. Across from this fire sat in grave silence the man who had summoned them, his face streaked with white and vermilion under the horned bison robe; with him was a second man who wore the head and pelt of a grey timber wolf in similar fashion. Both of them regarded Crawford and Maclish with steady scrutiny--but the two white men were staring hard at the lifeless things behind the two Dacotah.