“Here is the second belt,” and the envoy held out one composed of black beads. “This is what it says. ‘If you do not return with my messenger; if you do not come to me at once, then I will come and take you. All those men with you shall go into the kettles of the Stone Men. You cannot escape me, and the blood of your young men will be upon your head.’ Thus speaks the second belt.” Now Crawford had on this morning hung the Star of Dreams outside his shirt, since the metal irked his tender new skin. The Assiniboine glanced around, saw the jewel, and in silence held out his roll of birch to Crawford, who took it. The Star Woman came to him, bitter anxiety in her eyes, yet with a proud anger flaming behind the anxiety. “You have heard those belts? I cannot give myself to this man--sooner would I leap into the lake below! How can we gain time?” “We cannot,” said Crawford grimly, and unrolled the birch. “Now let us see what message the Red Bull has sent to me.” He studied the scrawl in the fresh-peeled bark, and then read it aloud, translating it into French that all might comprehend. To the woman who listened at his elbow with bated breath, to the dark warriors standing around, that message came with a blunt shock--a shock which betrayed the whole truth to them. “Make her yield to me, and I will spare you and Frontin. I have you surrounded and will grant no quarter to others; not one of the Nadouisioux must live to tell of this matter. If she will not yield, then persuade her out to speak with me, and you shall still be spared. Refuse, and I finish the torture that I began a while back.” The red men standing around uttered a low chorus of grunts and waited. Crawford looked up, met the lapis eyes of the Star Woman, found them wide with horrified comprehension. “You understand?” he said gravely. “This fool thinks me coward enough to buy my life with you; yet he means to keep no promises. It is essential to his scheme that none of your warriors should remain alive to tell the Dacotah the truth--and he means to murder me as well, despite these promises.” The Star Woman tried to speak, and the words died on her lips. Then, at the third attempt, she made hoarse response. “But Metaminens! We must gain time--if I went out to meet this man----” “You would be seized, your men would lose heart, and be slain. There is only one way in which we can gain time.” Crawford touched his knife significantly, and a grunt of assent broke from the braves. Then all were silent, awaiting her response. This was slow in coming. Despair swept the face of the girl, followed by a swift flush of anger; but this ebbed away instantly, and was succeeded by a deathly pallor. Now, beyond all evasion, the Star Woman perceived that she must abandon everything, that peace and temporizing were alike impossible, that there was but one issue. Crawford spoke again, since he dared not risk any misunderstanding in her mind.