"Good.
White man come.

White man go.

Me hunt, now!" He swept his arm about in a gesture which included the horizon, and indicated plainly his conviction that all the land belonged to him and his own people.

So he stood, silent, and waiting with no nervousness for the diplomacy of the others.
Franklin stepped boldly out from the barricade and extended his hand.
"White Calf, good friend," said he.

The Indian took his hand without a smile, and with a look which Franklin felt go through him.