The white-haired man closed his eyes and his voice sank low, and the last words fell softly in a solemn silence that lasted for a long moment after the lullaby was finished. Presently Sinth came to take the sleeping child. "These little folks will take our peace away from us," said he, in a warning tone. "Why?" "The call of the sown land is in their voices," said he. "They give me sad thoughts." Sinth smiled and introduced the young man to Dunmore. "Boneka!" said the latter as they shook hands. The curiosity of Master was aroused by the strange greeting. He smiled, and answered, modestly, "I don't understand you." The stranger sat silent, gazing into the fire, until Silas, who was evidently in the secret, said to his guest, "Tell 'em." "There was once a very wise and honored chief," began Dunmore, after a pause, and looking into the eyes of the young man. "Long before the lumber hunter had begun to shear the hills, he dwelt among them, with his good people. He was a great law-giver, and his law was all in two words--'_Be kind._' Kindness begat kindness, and peace reigned, to be broken only by some far-come invader. But as time went on quarrels arose and the law was forgotten. Thereupon the chief invited a great council and organized the Society of the Magic Word. Every member promised that whenever the greeting 'Boneka' were given him, he would smile and bow and answer, 'Ranokoli.' The greeting meant 'Peace,' and the answer, 'I forgive.' "Then, one by one, the law-giver called his councillors before him, and to each he said: 'The Great Spirit is in this greeting. I defy you to hear it and keep a sober face.' "Then he said 'Boneka,' and the man would try to resist the influence of the spirit, but soon smiled in spite of himself, amid the laughter of the tribe, and said 'Ranokoli.' Thereafter, when a quarrel arose between two people, an outsider, approaching, would greet them with the magic word, and immediately they would bow and smile, and answer, 'I forgive.' But, nevertheless, if one had wronged another he was justly punished by the chief. So it was that a great ruler made an end of quarrels among his people." "A grand idea!" said young Master. "Let's all join that society." "Those in favor of the suggestion will please say ay." It was Dunmore who put the question, and, after a vote in its favor, dictated the pledge, as follows: _"For value received from my Loving Father, I promise to give to any of His children, on demand, a smile and full forgiveness."_ All signed it, and so half in play the old Society of the Magic Word was revived at Lost River camp. The white-haired man rose and walked to the trail and turned suddenly. "Strong," said he, "I'm leaving the woods for a week. If they need your help at home they'll send word to you." With that he disappeared in the dark trail. The three other men still sat by the camp-fire. "Who is Dunmore?" Master inquired, turning to Gordon.