Among those who journeyed with Quannah were the youths of the Quahada
Comanches who had reached the age of twelve. These boys knew how to use
bows and arrows as well as the older men. Children of the tribe were
given tiny bows and arrows for toys as soon as they were big enough to
hold them, and each day they practised shooting at targets, while their
parents watched them proudly.
They were also taught to ride a pony bare-back, lying close against its
neck and leaning forward, so that from the opposite side nothing could
be seen of the little rider except one brown leg and a hand that clung
to the pony's thick mane.
Another lesson they had to learn was to creep silently through the
grass, taking great care not to make it move so that other boys could
not see where they were hiding. Because of this training and their small
size, some of these boys had been allowed to travel with the warriors
under Quannah, that they might be used as spies when the Indians drew
near the camps of the white men.
So when the different couriers returned to Quannah and reported that the
white men were coming from every side to surround the Comanches, and
that part of these men were between Quannah's band and the camp where
the Comanche women and children had been left, Quannah called his
followers about him while the old Medicine Man stood beside the chief.
Star, who had been resting for a short time after his long trip, lifted
his head curiously as he noticed the warriors gathering. Then as he saw
Running Deer close to the edge of the group about Quannah, he leaped
lightly to his feet and hastened to his mother's side. She rubbed her
nose against his to show how pleased she was at the way he had done his
part of Quannah's work. Then Quannah began speaking.
"We must go back to take care of the women and children," the chief said
very plainly.
Star saw all the warriors nodding to show that they agreed with the
chief, but no one spoke a word. It was so quiet that the chirp of a
grasshopper close to Star's feet could be heard distinctly, and the song
of a mockingbird sounded clearly from a nearby tree. Even the big herd
of twelve hundred ponies seemed to be listening for Quannah's words.
There was no moving of restless hoofs, or soft sounds of grass roots
being torn by grazing ponies.
Star felt a thrill of joy at what the chief said, for he knew that he
would be near Songbird again. Then if the white men came, he could help
her run away, as his mother had helped Quannah escape and hide. He
turned to speak about this to his mother, but Running Deer shook her
head quickly and he was silent. Quannah was talking.
"The white men are between us and the camp where we left our women and
children," he said slowly. "To the front of us are more white men. They
are coming from the east and the west, also. We must make a path through
them to reach our camp. The white men outnumber us many times. If we
face them in open battle they will kill or take us all prisoners, then
our women and children will be helpless."
"Our chief speaks the truth," the Medicine Man spoke, and the others
grunted and nodded at one another to show that he was right.
"To-day," Quannah went on, "we must ride hard until we are near the
white men, then we will halt and hide. It is the dark of the moon now,
and when the sun has gone, I shall send the smallest boys on our
swiftest ponies to stampede the ponies of the white men. While all is
confusion in their camp, we can dash past them in the dark, taking their
ponies with us as we go on our way. Without ponies how can they catch
us?"
All the warriors showed their satisfaction in the words and looks that
Star and Running Deer understood plainly. In a short time the Indians
were riding the trail that led directly back toward the camp of the
squaws and children and old, weak men who could not fight.
During the day messengers were sent ahead, and Star kept close beside
his mother on whom Quannah was riding. When the couriers returned late
in the afternoon, Star and Running Deer listened intently to their
words.
"The white men are moving toward us," spoke one man who had ridden away
that morning. His tired pony stood with low-hanging head while its drawn
sides and quick breathing told how hard the pace had been. "When the sun
goes to sleep for the night, they will be not more than two hours from
here."
"They have big white ponies," another messenger said. "Last night I lay
so close to their camp that I could hear voices in the strange white
tepees. A few men who do not sleep walk around and keep watch. All of
the men have fire-sticks. The ponies are unsaddled and each one is tied
to a long rope, so they make a line, side by side!"
"That is good!" Quannah's eyes brightened.
Turning to the Medicine Man he spoke in a low voice, so that neither
Star nor Running Deer was able to hear what he said. The other Comanches
began making preparations for food, so Running Deer, with Star at her
side, moved slowly away, cropping the thick, tender grass as they talked
together.
"Mother, do you think we will be sent to-night?" Star asked suddenly.
"Maybe," she answered. "I am the swiftest pony of the herd, and you have
proved your speed and strength to-day. It would be a great honour if
both of us were sent. But now stop talking. Eat, that you may rest, for
no one can tell when we may be needed, nor how long and hard the trail
before we can graze and rest again."
Star obeyed. After he had eaten his fill of juicy grass he wandered with
his mother to a stream where they thrust their noses into the clear,
cool water and drank all they wished. Then the two of them found a spot
which they pawed to make more soft, and doubling their front knees they
sank slowly to the ground and soon lay sleeping side by side.
Several hours had passed when Star wakened suddenly at a whisper from
his mother, whose lips touched one of his ears. It was quite dark, but
the stars gleamed overhead. When the little spots of light flickered in
the sky Star knew that it was from the hoofs of ponies in the Happy
Hunting Grounds just as the Comanche ponies made sparks of fire when
rocks were tossed together violently by the ponies' flying hoofs.
"Listen!" whispered Running Deer. "The men are picking the ponies for
to-night's work!"
The colt's body quivered with excitement, his lips twitched and his ears
cocked sharply, while his eyes peered into the darkness where he could
hear the soft tread of moccasined feet that were coming nearer and
nearer to him and his mother. He wanted to leap up and call out to the
warriors that he was awake and ready, but a nudge from his mother made
him lie down quietly and wait.
In a few seconds an indistinct figure stood beside him. A hand touched
his forelock. Star rose quickly to his feet as a rawhide noose slipped
about his neck. He felt his mother's nose against his own, but the nip
she gave him this time was not an angry one. It told him as plainly as
she could speak how proud she was that her son had been picked out for
the work.
"Do your best," he heard her say. "Remember, you are my colt. Your
honour is my honour. If you fail it is my disgrace as well as yours!"
Then he was led away, leaving his mother watching him as he disappeared
in the darkness of night. She knew that the quick little bite he had
given her was a promise that he would not forget all she had taught him.
The man whom Star followed stopped where Quannah and all the warriors
stood with two little Comanche boys, who were looking up at the chief
and listening carefully to every word he was speaking to them. Star was
close enough to hear what was said.
"Ride swiftly," Quannah commanded. "Make no noise. When you are near
the white men's camp lie closely and hold your hands tightly across your
ponies' noses to keep them from calling out to the white men's ponies
and warning them of danger."
"We will do as you say," the boys promised sturdily.
"Good!" the chief answered. "Leave your ponies while you crawl
cautiously to the rope that holds the white men's ponies. Cut the rope
and leap on the nearest pony, then shout loudly and beat the ponies with
the pieces of buffalo hide you carry. That will frighten them so they
will run away. Your own ponies will follow. You must drive the white
men's ponies toward the place where we will be waiting to help you. Thus
we will capture the white men's ponies, so the men cannot follow us to
our women and children."
"We understand," replied the boys in one voice, while the Indians
watched them and whispered to one another, "These children will be great
warriors when they are full-grown men!"
Once again Quannah spoke to the boys. "The honour of the Quahada
Comanches is in your hands. Guard it with your lives. If you are
captured, let no man know why you were sent, nor where we are waiting.
Do not whisper it even between your two selves, for the wind might steal
your words and carry them to the white men's ears."
Then the old Medicine Man stepped before the two children, and his thin
arms and trembling hands were extended over their heads. The boys knelt
down. Around them like shadows in the faint starlight stood all the
Quahada Comanche warriors, and their chief watched the two slender lads,
his eyes full of pride.
"Great Spirit, hear the cry of your children. Help us save the game and
the grass that we may live in peace and happiness in the land you gave
to our fathers long ago. Send their spirits from the Happy Hunting
Grounds this night that they may travel beside these children and give
them courage and cunning to save the Comanche people. We are weak, we
are few, and the white men are many and strong. We must go out to fight
and we ask the Great Spirit to help us, for with the Great Spirit and
the spirits of our forefathers we shall win over all our foes!"
In the silence that followed the Medicine Man's blessing, the boys rose
to their feet. Then Star shivered with excitement as one of the boys
grasped the mane that fell thickly on the pony's neck. With a quick,
light bound the lad vaulted to Star's bare back. Beside them the other
boy was astride a pony named Hawk.
Silently the circle of warriors parted so that there was a space. The
young riders leaned down on the necks of the ponies and darted, side by
side, through the pathway of Comanches, then on through darkness that
wrapped the prairie like a heavy black cloak.