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Feather-in-the-Wind signified his willingness to do what he could by a nod of his head. “Mother, Mother! The coffee is boiling over. Hurry!” With one voice they denied the fact, and were resolute in persisting that they knew nothing of the person described. This denial confirmed Hippolitus in his former terrible surmise; that the dying cavalier, whom he had seen, was no other than Ferdinand, and he became furious. He bade the officers prosecute their search, who, leaving a guard over the banditti they had secured, followed him to the room where the late dreadful scene had been acted..
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Conrad
Feather-in-the-Wind, while preserving his customary dignity, was genuinely sorry to see him go. “It was good of you,” he said as gravely as the Indian had spoken. “But you can help me further perhaps.” At last he passed the sluice gates which marked the center of the dam. A few rods further on he knew he must climb up and look over. This sounded like good advice to Bob..
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