“To marry her, o’ course! Ye ken, maybe, there’s war between the Dacotah and the Stone Men? Ay. All those western tribes down below are at war wi’ the Stone Men, while the Sauteurs hang neutral. Those Dacotah, ye ken, are kith and kin to the Stone Men; and they’re not so far from here, neither. Well, I’ll marry her and then we’ll drain all the trade out o’ French hands to the bay. All those Lake Superior tribes will obey the Star Woman. And then who’ll be the company’s lord, eh? Maclish, ye can lay to that! We’ll make peace among the tribes, and Maclish bringin’ down the beaver!” Crawford sensed only vaguely the tremendous purpose behind the man, the far-reaching scheme which this Scot had so shrewdly plotted. He was more actively concerned with this actual news of the Star Woman. He had heard much, during the winter, about those fierce tribes who termed themselves by the proudly simple name of “The Men,” and were known to others by the generic Algonquin word Nadouisioux or Sioux, meaning “enemies.” Between the Iroquois in the east and these Dacotah in the west, the lesser red tribes were as corn between the grinders. “So you intend to find her, do you?” asked Crawford. “Ay. Only a few hours’ march from here is a place they call the Spirit Lake--some sort of holy ground, it is. The Stone Men tell me a message can reach her from there; just how, I don’t rightly ken. But if a message can reach her, then so can a man! So that’s the lay of it. You’ll go back, and I’ll go on.” Only a few hours’ march! Crawford laughed suddenly, and his laugh brought crafty guile and alarm into the eyes of Maclish. “You fool!” said Crawford, a sudden blaze of anger in his face. “You think to stop me, do you?” “Right, cap’n,” said the voice of Frontin, and the dark man smiled terribly. “Now’s the time to do the stopping.” Maclish took a backward step, hastily. “No, no! Will ye ha’ patience?” he cried out. “It’s only a warning I’m giving ye, no more! If ye go for’ard, it’s your ain fault, not mine! I ha’ naught to do with it.” Frontin thrust his dark features out. “Hark to the liar and rogue!” said he. “Cap’n, there’s bad guile in this fox. It’s in my mind to put a knife in him here and now.” Maclish, who had lost his swaggering confidence, held out his empty hands. “If I meant ye harm,” he said, “would I ha’ come without a weapon to meet ye? If ye mean to murder me, go ahead, then. If not, we’ll part on it and no more said.” “Right,” said Crawford, with sudden decision. “Go your way, and don’t cross my road again. I’m no murderer, so be off.” With this, Maclish turned and started for the trees up the valley. “Devil take me, but we did wrong to let him go!” said Frontin. Crawford shook his head. The two friends went side by side toward their staring band of men, who had witnessed this amazing meeting without having been able to hear its import.