- Cotton: Sis, do you believe in God?
- Clayanna: Of course I do, Cotton.
- Cotton: You don't believe he's an old man with a long white beard, do you?
- Clayanna: [chuckles] No, I don't.
- Cotton: Then what is he?
- Clayanna: Oh gosh, Cotton. That's going to be hard for you to understand. He's, eh, everything. And he knows all about you. He judges what's in a man's heart.
- Cotton: Like our Pa?
- Clayanna: No. No, not exactly like our Pa. Though, our Pa is a great man of God. God is a force. He's - he's a power. He's a creator of everything that's good.
- Cotton: But, does he protect us?
- Clayanna: Well, of course he protects us. Come on.
- [two Blackfeet jump out from behind some bushes]
- Clayanna: Oh my God, Cotton, run! Run, Cotton! Please hurry!
- Clayanna: [voice over] I wondered, how did this man exert such power by his mere presence? It gave me a very strange feeling.
- Clayanna: [voice over] For generations, they have told around their campfires the legend of a great young chief of the Blackfoot - and of a white girl. I was that girl - and the Blackfoot chief was called: Winterhawk.
- Finley: I ain't askin' you to do this for nothin'. I've got a little money and I'm willin' to pay you for the loss of time.
- Guthrie: What would I do with money? What could money possibly buy me that I ain't already got? Jus' look around you here. I got shelter. I got fresh meat on this table almost every day.
- [looks towards Pale Flower]
- Guthrie: And, all the lovin' a man my age could possibly stand. No, you ain't lookin' at a man in want, Mr. Finley.
- Red Calf: You speak well for a white woman. But, he does not believe in your words. As the white man has strangled the Indian with words.
- Arkansas: Do you think he's apt to hurt 'em, Guthrie?
- Guthrie: No. No, I think they'll be well treated. They'll be raised as Blackfeet, most likely become members of the tribe.
- Finley: Well, Clayanna's a mature woman and besides...
- Guthrie: Is she ugly?
- Finley: In the contrary.
- Guthrie: Then, you got no problem. If Winterhawk don't like her, some big buck'll take a shine to her, make her his squaw.
- Clayanna: [voice over] We had become so burned by the wind and sun, it was hard to tell Cotton and me from the Indians.
- Scoby: If we don't starve to death, we'll freeze! Well, I don't even have a fat squaw to keep me warm.