"What for then you strengthen your stockade?" said the Indian, majestically waving his hand toward the wall. "What for another big gun? What for big ship guarding you all winter?"
"Our stockades were old. We renew them often," answered the doctor. "The ship was a visitor, not a defender."
The Indian went on:
"We hear Boston man making laws. Getting ready to become great people. Dr. Whitman will bring many, many people. He say this America land. He take all our land. Poor Indian will have no horses, no land, no home by and by."
"You must do as Dr. Whitman tells you," said McLoughlin. "Build homes on your land. Cultivate your ground, and you can keep it like white people."
"My people fear King George man and Boston man join together and kill all Indian." Again that bent face, that eager, searching, flashing look.
Dr. McLoughlin saw the real trouble in Yellow Serpent's soul. Truly he had shown his heart. Stepping toward him and taking the Indian's two hands in his own the benevolent doctor said: "My son, is this what troubles you? Go home and fear no more. No white man will harm you. Dr. Whitman is your true friend. He will not see you injured. If any American should make war on you the Hudson's Bay Company would never join them. Have we not been your friends for thirty years? Do you think we could bring our hearts to harm our brothers? Go home and work in your little gardens as Dr. Whitman taught you. Drive the wicked Dorion away. He will bring my children into trouble."
