"It is too true. Where is he now?"
"Sleeping as the Raven left him."
"Then if you are a friend you will fly with me."
"There is no danger. The snake is scotched. He may turn his fangs upon himself but can bite no one else."
"Who are you?"
"A squaw!"
The word was accented with the most extreme bitterness, and for a moment her eyes flashed with outraged feelings, but seeing that the white girl shrunk from her in fear she smoothed her face, threw back her blanket and drawing nearer to Olive continued:
"The Burning Cloud."
"What is that?"
"My name, in the tongue of the pale-face. She is the friend of Little Raven, and will be yours. But first let me tell what you are longing to hear."