Crawford nodded. He knew that nothing short of death itself would stop Maclish. CHAPTER VII “AN ARCHER DREW BOW AT A VENTURE” Late that night, while the thin crescent of a new moon hung in the sky, touching the twisted limbs of the pine tree above him with faint silver radiance, Crawford wakened to a lightly humming voice. It was Frontin who sat beside him at the tip of the promontory, and gaily voiced words which were half-sardonic, half-sad, fitting them to a tune of Old France which ran lightly and merrily enough-- “God made a little crooked tree And set it on the shore, A thing of wondrous sanctity To paynim folk! But presently Came white men full of charity, Who gave the redskins eau-de-vie All up and down the shore. They built a chapel on the shore Beside the crooked tree, And taught the paynim to abhor The gods by which his fathers swore-- It proved a simple labor, for The Cross they gathered to adore Was but a Crooked Tree!” There was a bitterness in Frontin’s voice that made Crawford sit up sharply. “Anything wrong?” “No. Go to sleep again, cap’n.” Instead, Crawford got out his pipe, borrowed fire from the other man, and they smoked together. After a little, with the peaceful solitude of the far-flung water and forest below acting upon him, Crawford broke the silence. “See here, Frontin! If I don’t get out of this, you make for the bay. Those Irishmen will be at New Severn----” “Devil take you, be silent!” snapped Frontin roughly. “Listen! You hear the wind singing in those branches above us? Well, that is our requiem mass. We have failed in the world, and now God brings us to an end of the trail in this place--we have gained the glory of such a tomb as few men know, and the choral requiem of a sacred tree!” “What the devil has put you in this mood?” “The devil that is in me. Oh, I am sick, sick at heart!” broke out Frontin. “When I look into the eyes of this Star Woman, I am frightened. She is not of this earth. She is a fairy. She has been put here by magic--oh, the devil! I cannot understand it at all.” Crawford, who felt that he could understand it perfectly, held his peace. Suddenly a sharp sound drifted to them from somewhere far below, and was repeated. “What is that noise?” Frontin started. “The bark of a wolf,” said Crawford. Frontin jerked to his feet. “Then I have learned something,” he said drily, “for until now I have never heard of a wolf swimming.” He strode away into the trees, and presently returned with Standing Bull and two Dacotah warriors. They joined Crawford and listened. Once more that long wolf-call came up from the water below. At this moment another Dacotah hurried to join them, with eager words. “Le Talon says that he hears the voice of his brother Black Kettle!” Standing Bull uttered a sharp exclamation, and the three Dacotah vanished.