“Pawky devils, those chiefs!” he went on. “They’re afraid o’ the Star Woman, but they’re more afraid o’ losing their trade--and not a cursed bit afraid o’ you and your Crees! Besides, I’ve got the young warriors all with me. I’ve heard tales about that Star Woman myself, and I’ve an exploring commission from Kelsey; so here I am--and back you go!” Had not Maclish been so entirely self-satisfied, he might have taken warning from the deadly cold manner of Crawford. Crawford, however, was far from sure of his course. Had the Crees taken him south to the Lake Superior country, he would have avoided the trap; instead, they had brought him into this disputed region just south of the Assiniboine country, declaring that the Star Woman lived in that direction. While the Assiniboines, or Stone Men, were in much awe of the Star Woman, they stood in no fear of a strange white man seeking her. They had long since been bound to the English cause through Kelsey, and Maclish was clever enough to play his cards well. “So I go back?” said Crawford. “If you’re wise.” Maclish showed his yellow teeth. “And I go on.” “Eh? You go on?” Crawford’s eyes narrowed. “Just that--to find the Star Woman my ain self!” Maclish chuckled. “Until I learned of her, I thought to follow Kelsey’s example and take a young squaw from among the Stone Men; but not now. It’s a big chance, ay! How much d’ye ken of her?” “Little,” said Crawford shortly. His gaze was stabbing at the trees around, but he could discern nothing at all. Either Maclish had come alone, or had a force of men hidden. Now Crawford understood those strange snowshoe tracks that had been seen. He saw, too, that in this red-faced agent of the English company he had to do with a savage and resolute enemy. This fact cheered him up somewhat, for Hal Crawford had his own way of dealing with enemies. But now Maclish waxed garrulous. No doubt the sound of his own voice was good to him, after this winter spent among the Stone Men. “They’ve uncommon queer tales of her,” he went on. “It seems that her people are the Dacotah, but she lives somewhere on holy ground; any place where she is, I gather, is holy. That’s the lay of it. A fine bonny lass, I hear, wi’ blue eyes and a star of blue stones. White blood in her, most like. Ay, it’s a big chance, and ye may be sure the young men are all with Maclish!” “What’s a big chance?” queried Crawford, anxious to keep the man in talk.