As MacNair followed the old Indian’s story his fists clenched, his eyes hardened to points, and the breath whistled through his nostrils in white plumes of frost-steam.

Old Elk finished and, pointing eloquently in the direction of Lac du Mort, asked eagerly: 

“You follow de trail of Lapierre?”

MacNair nodded, and before he could reply the Indian stepped close to his side and placed a withered hand upon his arm.

“Me, I’m lak’ y’u fadder,” he said; “y’u lak’ my own son.  Y’u follow de trail of Lapierre.  Y’u tak’ de white kloochman away from Lapierre, an’ den, by gar, when y’u got her y’u ke’p her.  Dat kloochman, him damn fine ’oman!”

Realizing his worst fears were verified, MacNair immediately set about preparations for the attack on Lapierre’s stronghold.  All night he superintended the breaking out of supplies in the storehouse and the loading of sleds for the trail, and at the first streak of dawn the vanguard of Indians who had followed him from Snare Lake swarmed up the bank from the river.

MacNair selected the freshest and strongest of these, and with the thirty who were already at the school, struck into the timber with sleds loaded light for a quick dash, leaving the heavier impedimenta to follow in care of the women and those who were yet to arrive from Snare Lake.

The fact that MacNair had made use of the wolf-cry to call them together, his set face, and terse, quick commands told the Indians that this was no ordinary expedition, and the eyes of the men glowed with anticipation.  The long-promised—­the inevitable battle was at hand.  The time had come for ridding the North of Lapierre.  And the fight would be a fight to the death.

It took three days for MacNair’s flying squadron to reach the fort at Lac du Mort.  By the many columns of smoke that arose from the surface of the little plateau, he knew that the men of Lapierre waited the attack in force.  MacNair led his Indians across the lake and into the black spruce swamp.  A half-dozen scouts were sent out to surround the plateau, with orders to report immediately anything of importance.

Old Elk was detailed to follow the trail of Lapierre’s sled to the very walls of the stockade.  For well MacNair knew that the crafty quarter-breed was quite capable of side-stepping the obvious and carrying the girl to some rendezvous unknown to any one but himself.  The remaining Indians he set to work felling trees for a small stockade which would serve as a defence against a surprise attack.  Saplings were also felled for light ladders to be used in the scaling of Lapierre’s walls.