As she spoke two yellow fangs of teeth protruded from her thin lips, and on her face was the snarl of a dog. She drew up her mummified face within two inches of the girl's own. Hope shuddered and involuntarily moved backward toward the house. With every step she took the squaw followed, her weazened face and cruel, baneful eyes held close to hers. "You murderer of men, you teacher of little children, you butcher, I will show you my power!" The girl recoiled from the frenzied woman, shutting out the sight with her hands and moving backward step by step until she leaned against the smooth logs of the building. There the foolishness of her sudden fright presented itself. Should the grimaces of a weazened old squaw frighten her into a fit, or should she pick up the bony thing and throw her over the top of the tepee? An impulse to do the latter came over her--then to her fancy she could hear the crashing of brittle bones. What she did do, however, was to take her hands away from her eyes and look at the old witch fearlessly. At this old White Blanket broke into a terrible jargon, not a word of which was intelligible. Her voice rose to its utmost pitch. The crisp morning air resounded with its sharp intonations. Hope leaned against the logs of the house, lashing the squaw into greater fury by her cool, impertinent gaze. She began to be interested in the performance, speculating to just what degree of rage the old woman would reach before she foamed at the mouth, and as to how much strength she would have to exert to pitch the frail thing bodily into the top of the tepee. At that instant a man, apparently hurriedly dressed, rushed from the lodge and grasped the old woman by the arm. "What're you doin'? Go over there and git my breakfast, and don't be all day about it!" The old woman's face changed marvelously. She calmed like a dove, under the hand of her son-in-law, but before turning away began muttering what might have been intended for an apology. "I no hurt her. She think I know nothing. I _show_ her." The man laughed good-naturedly. "Well, you show me some grub an' that'll be enough fer one day, I reckon. Wimmen folks should be seen an' not heard, an' you make as much noise as an old guinea hen." Meekly the old woman continued her interrupted task, showing that in spite of his gruff speech she entertained great respect for her tall son-in-law, Long Bill. "Hope the old woman didn't frighten you, Miss. She don't mean nothin' by it, only she gits them spells once in a while," apologized Long Bill politely. Hope gave a short laugh, while the man continued: "Seems like all Hades is turned loose when she does git on the rampage, though." "Probably I aggravated her. If so, I am sorry. But I wouldn't have missed it--not for anything. Her rage was perfect--such gestures, and _such_ expressions!"