He smiled at the absurdity of imagining he had heard a savage speak a foreign language.

At any rate, whatever had been said was trenchant with meaning.

The Indians changed from gay to grave; they picked up their weapons and looked keenly on every side; the big Indian at once retied Joe, and then all crowded round the chief.
"Did you hear what Silvertip said, and did you notice the effect it had ?" whispered Jim, taking advantage of the moment.
"It sounded like French, but of course it wasn't," replied Joe.
"It was French.

'Le Vent de la Mort.'" "By Jove, that's it.

What does it mean ?" asked Joe, who was not a scholar.
"The Wind of Death." "That's English, but I can't apply it here.