"Of whom?"
"Whose name does her heart whisper the most?"
The girl blushed until her face would have shamed the gorgeous crimson-pink of the prairie, and leaned forward anxiously; but she made no reply, and the young squaw continued:
"It is the Medicine of the pale-face, and he is safe."
"Heaven be praised!"
"She can thank the Manitou and the scout. But he has passed through terrible trials."
"Alas! that he also has had to suffer."
"When the black ravens of death were croaking into his ears, and in another hour he would have been wandering on the shores of the dark river that rolls between this and the country of souls, he waded through dangers as through a mighty flood and saved him."
"Tell me, that I may know how to thank him."
"He is himself upon the trail of death!" she replied, very slowly and sorrowfully, and with her eyes overflowing with tears. "But the Burning Cloud will save him or die!"