Here white traders, Frenchmen speaking a tongue unknown to Henry, came to them with rifles, ammunition and bright-colored blankets to trade for furs.

More than one of them saw and admired the tall powerful young warrior with the singularly watchful eyes but not one of them knew that under his paint and tan he was whiter than themselves; instead they took him to be the wildest of the wild.
Henry's heart had throbbed a little at the first sight of them, but it was only for a moment, then it beat as steadily as ever; white like himself they might be, but they were of an alien race; their speech was not his speech, their ways not his ways and he turned from them.

He was glad when they were gone.
Toward the end of summer they went south again and wandered idly through pleasant places.

It was still a full season with wild fruits hanging from the trees and game everywhere.

There had been no sickness in the little tribe and they basked in physical content.