But there was dignity in the chief's manner; there was solemnity in his speech; his voice conveyed resoluteness and earnestness, which the stoic calm of his face might not have suggested; and Armour felt that he had no advantage at all.

Besides, Armour had a conscience, though he had played some rare tricks with it of late, and it needed more hardihood than he possessed to face this old man down.
And why face him down?
Lali was his daughter, blood of his blood, the chieftainess of one branch of his people, honoured at least among these poor savages, and the old man had a right to ask, as asked another more famous, "Where is my daughter ?" His hands in his pockets, Armour sat silent for a minute, eyeing his boot, as he swung his leg to and fro.

Presently he said: "Eye-of-the-Moon, I don't think I can talk as poetically as you, even in my own language, and I shall not try.

But I should like to ask you this: Do you believe any harm has come to your daughter--to my wife ?" The old Indian forgot to blow the tobacco-smoke from his mouth, and, as he sat debating, lips slightly apart, it came leaking out in little trailing clouds and gave a strange appearance to his iron-featured face.
He looked steadily at Armour, and said: "You are of those who rule in your land,"-- here Armour protested,--"you have much gold to buy and sell.

I am a chief," he drew himself up,--"I am poor: we speak with the straight tongue; it is cowards who lie.