Chapter II
"Long before I was born," began Running Deer, "the warriors of our tribewove bits of red cloth into the manes and tails of their ponies. Eachwarrior, decked in brightest blankets and with war-bonnets of eaglefeathers that bound their heads, fell over their shoulders, then trailedalmost to the ground, rode rapidly across the prairie with their quiversfull of sharply pointed arrows.
"White-faced men had come on the land of the Comanches and were takingpossession of our hunting grounds. So word was brought to camp for ourfighting men to go out and protect the game that belonged to theIndians. The Great Spirit put the game on the prairies that theComanches and other Indians might use it for food.
"Like leaves swept by fierce winds the warriors rushed onward. PetaNocona, the old chief's young son, rode my mother at the head of theQuahadas. He was almost a child in years, but a man in daring, andoften the chief gave him the honour of leading the warriors. All at oncein the distance a few specks caught his keen eyes, and he drew mymother's reins, while all the Comanches halted to talk. Then eachwarrior leaned down against the shoulder of his pony, and they raceduntil they had formed a large circle around the moving spots. Graduallyclosing about them, Peta Nocona led his men.
"My mother said that those in the centre greeted them. It wasPa-ha-u-ka's band, and with them were a boy and a girl with white skins,who looked at the Comanches in fear. The girl's hair was long and goldlike the arrows of the sun, her eyes were like the summer sky, her skinlike untrodden snow.
"The son of our chief rode to her side, and when she shrank back infear, he smiled and told her that no harm should come to her. She didnot understand his words, for she spoke in a strange tongue, but she didunderstand his kindly eyes and voice and smile. So she made no strugglewhen he lifted her from the arms of the warrior who was holding her.Placing her before him on my mother's back, he held her carefully untilthey reached our camp."
"Did the white boy come, too?" asked Star as Running Deer paused to takea bite of grass.
"My mother said that the boy did not come into our camp and she did notknow where he went. Part of the Comanches, who belonged to Pa-ha-u-ka'sband, followed another trail and were gone a long time. But the littlewhite girl was not unhappy, for she had our chief's son as hercompanion. We called her Preloch. All the care that would have beengiven to the daughter of our chief was given to her until she reachedwomanhood. Then she and the chief's son, Peta Nocona, were married withgreat feasting and dancing that lasted many days, and everyone was veryhappy for they all loved her and the chief's young son.
"When the old chief, worn with the weight of many winters, slept withhis forefathers, the young chief ruled in his place. There was muchrejoicing when a son was born to Peta Nocona and his golden-hairedsquaw, Preloch. They called him Quannah, which, as you know, means'Fragrant.' Later a little daughter came to them, and her name wasPrairie Flower, for she was so pale and delicate that it seemed asthough a rough hand could crush her, or a strong wind carry her away onits breast. The warriors honoured and obeyed Peta Nocona, who became agreat War Chief, and the women, children, and ponies loved his whitesquaw, Preloch, for her gentle ways. Wherever he went, she rode at hisside, her baby daughter clasped in her arms, while little Quannahfollowed closely behind on his pony, often shooting arrows as he rode.
"The young chief had given my mother, Blackbird, to Preloch, and I was acolt, past two years old, when white men found our camp. I do not knowjust what happened, for in the darkness of night Gray Beard, Big Wolf,and Spotted Leopard led me into a strange place among great trees, andthere we found Quannah waiting us. They spoke earnestly to him, then heleaped to my back and we dashed away.
"For many days we were alone, except when a warrior came and sat talkinggravely. I heard Karolo, the Medicine Man, tell Quannah one day, thatthe white men had taken Preloch and Prairie Flower away with them. Thenhe told that his mother had sent a message, bidding her son remain withhis father's people and rule them wisely and justly. She did not want toleave her son and the Comanche people whom she loved so much, but shehad been made a prisoner by the white men and they were taking her andher baby away to their own homes."
"Why?" asked Star, wonderingly.
"I do not know," answered Running Deer. "I am telling the story as itall happened. How could an Indian pony understand the white man's ways,when the wise men of the tribe did not understand? My mother told me thestory of the little white girl, and I heard what the old warriors saidto Quannah while we hid in the mountains; but I do know that neitherPreloch nor Prairie Flower ever came back to us again, and Quannah neversaw them again.
"That is all I know. Quannah rode me back to camp and when you were bornhe gave you to Songbird. You must serve her as faithfully as I haveserved him, and as my mother, before me, served his father, Peta Nocona.The big chiefs also told Quannah that his father, Peta Nocona, had beenkilled by the white men as he stood, wounded, against a tree, singingthe Death Song of the Quahada Comanches. So Quannah, his son, became ourchief."
Star thought about the story as he lay beside his mother, and he feltvery sure that he would not make any error in telling it when he hadgrown old. The sun peeped over the edge of the world and shot a goldenarrow of light into the pony's eyes, to warn him and the other poniesthat it was time to roll and get up.
It was not an easy thing to roll over. Star had tried it many times, forhis mother had told him that when a pony could roll completely over thefirst thing in the morning, it was the sign he was very strong. So nowhe stiffened his muscles and tried it, but only got partly over. Againhe tried and failed. But the third time he turned completely over, andfull of pride, leaped to his feet. Then he leaned down and nipped hismother, who blinked up at him.
"I did it!" he bragged, tossing his head so that the thick black manewaved like a flag. "Mother, I rolled all the way over, this morning."
"I knew you would do it," she answered proudly as she scrambled uphastily. "Now you can carry a man."
The two ponies saw the flap of Quannah's tepee lifted, and their earscocked sharply. A little girl, about six years old, with large darkeyes, long glossy braids hanging to her waist, and clothed in a garmentof buckskin, with moccasins of buckskin on her feet, stood in theopening of the tepee.
"Star!" she called softly yet clearly.
The pony answered with a low nicker of delight, tossed his shaggy mane,kicked his hind heels and galloped to her side, where he bent his headthat she might pet his nose and pull his ears gently, while his eyestold her how much he loved her.