An' the milk's all right.

I suppose you've come to see why I ain't moseying back over the divide ?" The chief, after a long pause, began to speak in a low, slow voice, as if choosing his words.

He spoke in broken English, of course, but his speech was very direct and plain, and had none of those absurd figures of rhetoric which romancers invariably put into the mouths of Indians.
His voice was almost lion-like in its depth, and yet was not unpleasant.
It was easy to see that he was a chief by virtue of his own personality.
"Cattleman, my young men brought me bad message from you.

They brought your words to me, saying he will not go away." "That's about the way the thing stands," replied Wilson, in response to the question that was in the old chief's steady eyes.

"I'm here to stay.
This ain't your land.