“We have kettles for you all,” returned the Assiniboine. “To-night we shall feast upon the hearts of the Dacotah.” Then, stalking away, he leaped the barricade and was gone with a shrill yelp. “Quick, now!” Crawford was at the side of the Dacotah chief with swift orders. “Put ten of your men at the breastwork with all the muskets. Frontin, take a gun! Black Kettle has his own. Send out the other warriors to oppose their advance; tell them to fall back on the position here and to save themselves so far as possible.” While these directions went into effect, Crawford, who knew himself still unable to endure the heavy recoil of a musket, provided himself with several tomahawks and took post at the center of the barricade, where Frontin and Black Kettle joined him. Standing Bull himself was gone into the trees beyond with his scouts. Now Crawford heard the voice of Le Talon, and saw the crippled chief limping to him. There, his injured leg bolstered up, Le Talon stood facing the clearing beyond, his voice rising and falling in a weird monotone as it lifted to the morning sky the recital of his deeds and trophies. Then, suddenly, a musket banged in the forest, followed by others. The Stone Men could have little ammunition left, and what they had was now being rapidly expended. Bullets clipped the high trees, while Crawford and his men waited for the battle to be broken upon them; and on the ground in little sheaves lay the scarlet arrows which were the peculiar token of the Star Woman. Yells resounded, and among them Crawford thrilled to the bull-like roar of Maclish. Now came Standing Bull, darting from the trees and leaping over the barricade, reaching for arrows to fill his empty quiver. “Wah!” he panted, fiercely exultant. “They come--all of them!” Among the trees appeared other of the Dacotah, fighting as they retreated, arrows flashing around them. Man by man they came in--but not all of them. Five had fallen. A long yell shrilled up from the trees as the enemy sighted the barricade and paused. “Fire one at a time, and low,” commanded Crawford. On the word, the Stone Men came bursting from cover in one wild charge, as though to overwhelm the defenders in a great wave, with the roar of Maclish to spur them on. Stripped and painted, arrows and bullets hurtling over them into the barricade, the solidly massed redskins came pouring across the clearing, converging on the narrow line of felled trees. “Let fire,” said Crawford, and Frontin dropped a chief who was in the lead.