Frontin shrugged. The two red men rose and bestirred themselves. From among the rocks came a third warrior, bearing a pack of dried meat. When the three had obtained snowshoes and warbags, they took the short forest snowshoes belonging to the two dead Sauteurs, and gave these to their white companions. Frontin retrieved the muskets he had left at the shore. “Come, my brothers!” said Standing Bull. “Even if they see us go, the Stone Men will not follow us--until after they have found their chief.” Crawford followed them to the edge of the islet, on the side farthest from the camp of the Stone Men. There, as all five came to the open ice, with the islet to cover them from sight of Maclish’s men, Frontin suddenly halted. “I’ll be along in a moment, don’t wait,” he said, then darted back and vanished among the rocks. The others went on. They were half-way across the open ice to the shore, when Crawford saw Frontin running and sliding after them. He was wiping his knife as he came, and Crawford turned upon him with an angry look. Frontin laughed and made answer to the tacit question. “No, my cap’n! I did no more than crop the rogue’s ears,” and with this he flung two small objects on the ice. “I, too, loved Phelim Burke a little.” There were strange things beneath the shell of this dark Frontin. CHAPTER III TWO TRAILS MAY HAVE THE SAME END During the following week, Crawford’s knowledge of the Star Woman remained exactly where it had been. The Dacotah refused to talk, being troubled and uneasy in spirit. All five men were in fast and furious flight, acute peril pricking them on; although they had left the Spirit Lake safely, the Stone Men were hard on their heels. That Maclish had tricked them all, was fully appreciated. The Dacotah envoys were not happy in the event; perhaps, under the leaden skies, they suspected that their belts had been delivered amiss. With the passing days, they began to regret some things and to ponder others. Storm had been gathering for days. The last of winter was in the air; the moon of the carp passed into that of the crane, the snow-crust was disintegrating underfoot, and the black tempest might be of either snow or rain. The Dacotah were praying for this storm to burst and save them, yet it held off--and they now considered their peril as a punishment for bringing Crawford with them. It was not until after this week of hard marching that they took counsel with Crawford and Frontin. Both these latter were thoroughly alive to the situation. The sudden changes of direction, the spurts of speed, the stratagems, all showed that the Dacotah were desperately striving to fling off the encircling enemy whose signal smokes rose now and again into the leaden sky. Hampered by their slower companions, the efforts of the Dacotah were futile.