Long-Hair save white warrior for little girl." A dignity which was almost noble accompanied these simple sentences.
Long-Hair stood proudly erect, like a colossal dark statue in the dimness.
The great truth dawned upon Beverley that here was a characteristic act.

He knew that an Indian rarely failed to repay a kindness or an injury, stroke for stroke, when opportunity offered.

Long-Hair was a typical Indian.

That is to say, a type of inhumanity raised to the last power; but under his hideous atrocity of nature lay the indestructible sense of gratitude so fixed and perfect that it did its work almost automatically.
It must be said, and it may or may not be to the white man's shame, that Beverley did not respond with absolute promptness and sincerity to Long-Hair's generosity.

He had suffered terribly at the hands of this savage.