Rolf had realized more and more how much this valley meant to Quonab, who worshipped the memory of his people.
"And leave all this ?" he replied, making a sweep with his hand toward the rock, the Indian trail, the site of bygone Petuquapen, and the graves of the tribe.
For reply their eyes met, and from the Indian's deep chest came the single word, "Ugh." One syllable, deep and descending, but what a tale it told of the slowly engendered and strong-grown partiality, of a struggle that had continued since the morning when the selectman came with words of doom, and of friendship's victory won.
Rolf realized this, and it gave him a momentary choking in his throat, and, "I'm ready if you really mean it." "Ugh I go, but some day come back." There was a long silence, then Rolf, "When shall we start ?" and the answer, "To-morrow night.".