Chapter IV
As Star travelled contentedly beside his mother in the days thatfollowed, other Indian tribes crossed the trail of the Comanches, someof whom came from the far north. They had seen the white men, whom theycalled soldiers. Sometimes there had been fighting.
Kiowa riders often rode strange ponies into Quannah's camp and restedfor a few days. While the Indians talked with Quannah and his braves,the ponies of the strangers told the Comanche ponies about the big bandsof white men, all dressed alike, riding very large horses, many of whichwere almost twice as big as a small pony.
"These men do not carry bows and arrows like the Indians, but haveshining sticks that roar like angry buffaloes and which spit fire thatkills any Indian or pony it touches," explained a pony from the KiowaIndians' camp.
Running Deer shivered and looked at Star, as she said, "My mother sawsuch men. She called them soldiers, and she, too, spoke of the sticks offire that slew our braves and our ponies, though they were so far awaythat arrows could not reach them."
The ponies stopped talking as they saw Quannah and a Kiowa messengerreach the herd. Star cocked his ears so that he might hear all that wassaid. Running Deer touched her big colt with her nose, to remind himthat he must keep perfectly quiet, for Quannah's hand rested on Star'smane and the chief looked at him with serious eyes while the KiowaIndian talked in a low voice. At first Star could not understand whatthey said, but in a short time he heard more distinctly.
The Kiowa brave was speaking. "Our Medicine Man, who is so wise and goodthat the Great Spirit talks to him, has told our Big Chief that we mustdrive these white people from our land, so that none of them shall evercome back. Then the antelope and buffalo will belong to us, our ponieswill roam where the grass grows most thickly, and our people will behappy and thrive."
"I wish to live peacefully with the white people. My mother was of theirrace," answered Quannah slowly.
"The white men will not dwell peacefully with the Indians. Many timesour fathers' fathers moved to avoid conflict, but the white men havealways followed and whenever they found us they have warred with us,"the Kiowa interrupted angrily. "Even now they are gathering in greatbands, and making ready to sweep upon us from all four sides of theearth at once, hoping to scatter us like dry leaves before a windstorm.Soon we shall be driven to the edge of the earth. Then only the coldashes of our camp fires will be left to tell the places where ourchildren once dwelt."
"Yes, that is true," the Chief of the Quahadas spoke, and his head sankso that his chin rested on his breast, while his eyes were fixed on theground. "My mother, Preloch, bade me rule the Quahadas wisely. If I waron the white men, they will come in still greater numbers, and my tribewill suffer. But the white men killed my father and took my mother andsister away. My mother did not want to leave us, and she sent word to meby old Moko, the Picture-maker, that she would try to escape from thewhite men and come back to me. Maybe she is dead now. When the sunshines on the winter snow, no one can bring it back. But the moisturesinks into the heart of the earth where the flowers are born. So thoughmy mother has never come back to me, the memory of her words lives in myheart. I wish to rule my people wisely and help them. Maybe it would bebest not to fight. I will ask my warriors. What they say, that will Ido!"
When the Quahadas had gathered about their chief and the Kiowamessenger, the Kiowa spoke quickly.
"My chief sent me to ask whether Quannah, Chief of the Quahadas, willjoin us and lead your tribe to help us save our people from the whitemen who will kill the Comanches and Kiowas, take our children and squawscaptives, and laugh at our humiliation. Shall I go back and say to mychief that Quannah, Chief of the Quahada Comanches, is a squaw becausehis white blood is afraid to fight his mother's people who stole her?"
Quannah's eyes flashed angrily, and he flung out his hand while hereplied, "Tell your chief that I and my warriors will fight against thewhite men because we must save the game and grass and protect our womenand children. That is all. Go!"
Star and Running Deer watched the Kiowa messenger leap on the strangepony's back. Then, with a shrill call, the rider was lost in a cloud ofdust that arose from the swiftly running pony, while Quannah, surroundedby his warriors, looked after the vanishing Indian.
"Why should the white men drive us from our camps?" asked Star as heturned to his mother. "We do not drive the Kiowas from their camps, andthe Comanche ponies graze beside the ponies of other tribes, for thereis grass enough for us all."
"White men are different from ponies," answered Running Deer. "That isall I know. Maybe the white men war among themselves and destroy eachother's camps, and carry away the women and children as prisoners."
During that evening, when the shadows grew longer and darker, and thehuge campfire sent shafts of light like golden arrows between the trees,the warriors gathered in consultation.
Their faces were very stern as they seated themselves on the ground in ahalf circle, while Quannah and the Medicine Man faced them. The MedicineMan was very old. The face he lifted toward the stars was wrinkled, hisraised hands trembled, and the words he spoke to the Great Spirit askedthat help might be given the warriors so that the grass and game mightbe saved for the tribe.
While he was speaking, coyotes yelped from the darkness beyond the lightof the camp fire, and Star, standing very closely against his mother,twitched nervously and kept looking backward to see how near the coyotesmight be. All the ponies understood that a band of coyotes would chaseany pony if it were alone, and if they overtook it, they would tear itto pieces. So when a bunch of coyotes came near the pony herd, the maressurrounded the colts in the very centre of the group, keeping theirnoses closely against the colts, and the mothers would lash out theirheels and protect them. But fear of a band of coyotes never died as thecolts grew older.
"The warriors are holding a War Council now," Running Deer told Star."Our wise old Medicine Man will tell them what the Great Spirit tellshim. Then he will bless them that the strength of the Great Spirit mayenter their hearts and help them conquer their enemies and save the gameand the grass."
Through the night the fire burned brightly, while the Comanches sat in alarge circle talking together. Star, waking many times, lifted his headthat he might watch the warriors who faced the Medicine Man and Quannah.Once the pony half rose to his feet, but Running Deer kicked at him asshe lay beside him.
"Lie down and be quiet," she whispered angrily. "It is not dawn yet. Youwill waken the other ponies and they are weary. What is the matter withyou to-night?"
"I want to go back to Songbird, Mother," he answered. "If the white menfind the camp they may take her away as they took Quannah's mother andsister, and she may never come back again!"
"Quannah would follow them and get her back. He loves her more thananything else," Running Deer said.
"But all the Comanche ponies are here with us," Star went on anxiously."If I go back to her, she could ride swiftly from the white men, ifthey try to capture her."
"Stop talking so foolishly," snorted Running Deer. "Quannah is wiserthan you are. He will guard her from harm. Go to sleep at once, for wehave many miles to travel yet."