He personified everything, like the ancient Greeks.

He talked in poetic figures; to him the sky was alive, every event had a soul, and his mind had dwelt upon the great truths of Nature until he had become more of a philosopher than a ruler.
He had been the father of a large family, but six of his sons had died of the plague, or rather of the treatment which the medicine-men had used in the disease, which was to sweat the victims in hot earthen ovens, and then plunge them into the Columbia.
His whole heart in his old age was fixed upon his only son, Benjamin.

The two were seldom separated.

To make the boy happy was the end of the old chief's life.
The two approached the courtly schoolmaster.
"White master," said the old chief, "I have brought to you the Light of the Eagle's Plume.

He is my heart, and will be the heart of my people when my suns are all passed over and my stars gone out.