Read Ebook: Star: The Story of an Indian Pony by Hooker Forrestine C Forrestine Cooper Miles Nelson Appleton Author Of Introduction Etc

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Ebook has 668 lines and 40084 words, and 14 pages

"That is all I know. Quannah rode me back to camp and when you were born he gave you to Songbird. You must serve her as faithfully as I have served him, and as my mother, before me, served his father, Peta Nocona. The big chiefs also told Quannah that his father, Peta Nocona, had been killed by the white men as he stood, wounded, against a tree, singing the Death Song of the Quahada Comanches. So Quannah, his son, became our chief."

Star thought about the story as he lay beside his mother, and he felt very sure that he would not make any error in telling it when he had grown old. The sun peeped over the edge of the world and shot a golden arrow of light into the pony's eyes, to warn him and the other ponies that it was time to roll and get up.

It was not an easy thing to roll over. Star had tried it many times, for his mother had told him that when a pony could roll completely over the first thing in the morning, it was the sign he was very strong. So now he stiffened his muscles and tried it, but only got partly over. Again he tried and failed. But the third time he turned completely over, and full of pride, leaped to his feet. Then he leaned down and nipped his mother, who blinked up at him.

"I did it!" he bragged, tossing his head so that the thick black mane waved like a flag. "Mother, I rolled all the way over, this morning."

"I knew you would do it," she answered proudly as she scrambled up hastily. "Now you can carry a man."

The two ponies saw the flap of Quannah's tepee lifted, and their ears cocked sharply. A little girl, about six years old, with large dark eyes, long glossy braids hanging to her waist, and clothed in a garment of buckskin, with moccasins of buckskin on her feet, stood in the opening 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 head that she might pet his nose and pull his ears gently, while his eyes told her how much he loved her.

Ever since Star had been strong enough to bear Songbird's weight on his back, they had wandered together near the camp. Sometimes they climbed the steep mountains so that they could look down on the tepees which seemed only tiny white spots; or they raced after a coyote across the prairie, and again they moved more slowly beside the streams where they could see silvery fish darting from one deep pool to another.

Always Star watched carefully that he might not step on a loose rock, or into a prairie-dog hole. That would make him stumble and throw his little mistress, and Star's mother had warned him of the danger. Many times they paused beside the stream so that Star could thrust his velvety nose into the cool ripples, while Songbird, higher up the creek, would lie flat, face downward, and touch the water with her lips.

At times she would sit in the shade of a tree near the stream and Star would lie down beside her. Then she would pluck wild flowers and weave them into his mane and make a wreath of them for her head, while she told the pony that the big, white clouds drifting slowly over them were the tepees of great warriors who had gone to the Happy Hunting Grounds, where they rode their favourite ponies all day long. But when the Spirit of the Sun rode over the edge of the world at night, the warriors followed him that the Spirit of Darkness might not overtake them, and the clouds followed after them.

One morning Songbird came to him and said, "There is a long journey for you to-day."

As she patted his neck, he noticed unusual excitement in the camp. The warriors were gathering the pony herd instead of letting it wander to graze until night. Men were rushing about, and the squaws were taking down many tepees. Some of the men were helping them roll things in buffalo robes which they tied with long thongs cut from cured hides. Then these bundles were placed on the backs of pack-ponies and fastened so that they could not slip off. Even the children were helping instead of playing about.

Quannah was directing everything while he stood near his tepee, a short distance from Songbird and Star. At last the packing ended and the warriors, mounted on their best ponies, moved slowly away from camp, while behind them came extra ponies and then, still farther behind, trotted the pack-ponies.

As Star watched, wondering what it all meant, an Indian led Running Deer to Quannah. The chief spoke hastily yet tenderly to Songbird, who listened seriously to his words. Then Quannah sprang to Running Deer's back.

Songbird slipped her arms about Star's neck and he felt her soft lips touch the white spot in the middle of his forehead. He was a jet-black pony except for this white mark which formed a perfect star, and which was almost hidden by the heavy forelock of hair that dangled to his eyes.

Quannah sat on the back of Running Deer, and watched Songbird, who turned suddenly and spoke.

"I have no brother! Let me go with you?"

"You must stay here with the women and children," Star heard the chief reply. "We go to meet men. It is safe here for the women and children. You must stay with them until I return."

The pony saw that all the Comanche herd was moving away from the camp, and he turned quickly to his mother.

"Must I stay, too?" he asked anxiously.

"No," she replied, "you go with me, so that Quannah may ride you to rest my back on the journey. It will be hard riding for many long days. We go to fight the white men and if we find them, many warriors and ponies may never come back. You are old enough and strong enough now to do your part in the work of the Comanche ponies. Come, keep beside me and I will tell you what to do."

Star felt very proud and important as he trotted at his mother's side, but he could not help twisting his neck to look back now and then at his little mistress who stood alone in front of the big tepee of the chief. He saw her stretch out her arms toward her father, but Quannah did not see her do it. Suddenly she drew a corner of her blanket over her head, so that her face was hidden that none might see her grief; then she turned into the tepee and the flap closed.

While Star had been watching all this, the other ponies had moved past him, and he heard his mother calling angrily, urging him to hurry to her side. She was in the lead. Far ahead of Star the ponies were moving swiftly. Some carried packs, others bore warriors, and the unmounted ponies of the herd were kept from straying by warriors who rode on either side. Not one Comanche pony had been left in the camp where the women and children now remained. It was all very strange. Star galloped to his mother knowing she could explain everything, for she was a very wise pony and the favourite of the chief. She was very angry, and snapped at his shoulder when he reached her side.

"You are disgracing me when you lag at the back of the herd. You belong at the front of it, with me. The chief's pony travels ahead of all the others."

"Where are we going?" he asked after a short silence.

"I do not know," she answered, still angry. "That does not concern either of us. When the chief speaks no one questions and all obey. He gives orders to the warriors and they do his bidding. He moves his hand and I obey the rein. That is all I know. Ponies do not need to know anything else. Your duty now is to follow me and keep at my side, so that you may be near if I fall or am hurt or weary. Then Quannah will ride you."

As they travelled many miles, Star kept closely beside his mother, but he could not forget Songbird and how she had held out her arms, then with covered face had gone alone into the big tepee of her father, the Chief of the Quahada Comanches.

As Star travelled contentedly beside his mother in the days that followed, other Indian tribes crossed the trail of the Comanches, some of whom came from the far north. They had seen the white men, whom they called soldiers. Sometimes there had been fighting.

Kiowa riders often rode strange ponies into Quannah's camp and rested for a few days. While the Indians talked with Quannah and his braves, the ponies of the strangers told the Comanche ponies about the big bands of white men, all dressed alike, riding very large horses, many of which were almost twice as big as a small pony.

"These men do not carry bows and arrows like the Indians, but have shining sticks that roar like angry buffaloes and which spit fire that kills any Indian or pony it touches," explained a pony from the Kiowa Indians' camp.

Running Deer shivered and looked at Star, as she said, "My mother saw such men. She called them soldiers, and she, too, spoke of the sticks of fire that slew our braves and our ponies, though they were so far away that arrows could not reach them."

The ponies stopped talking as they saw Quannah and a Kiowa messenger reach the herd. Star cocked his ears so that he might hear all that was said. Running Deer touched her big colt with her nose, to remind him that he must keep perfectly quiet, for Quannah's hand rested on Star's mane and the chief looked at him with serious eyes while the Kiowa Indian talked in a low voice. At first Star could not understand what they said, but in a short time he heard more distinctly.

The Kiowa brave was speaking. "Our Medicine Man, who is so wise and good that the Great Spirit talks to him, has told our Big Chief that we must drive these white people from our land, so that none of them shall ever come back. Then the antelope and buffalo will belong to us, our ponies will roam where the grass grows most thickly, and our people will be happy and thrive."

"I wish to live peacefully with the white people. My mother was of their race," answered Quannah slowly.

"The white men will not dwell peacefully with the Indians. Many times our fathers' fathers moved to avoid conflict, but the white men have always followed and whenever they found us they have warred with us," the Kiowa interrupted angrily. "Even now they are gathering in great bands, and making ready to sweep upon us from all four sides of the earth 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 cold ashes of our camp fires will be left to tell the places where our children once dwelt."

"Yes, that is true," the Chief of the Quahadas spoke, and his head sank so that his chin rested on his breast, while his eyes were fixed on the ground. "My mother, Preloch, bade me rule the Quahadas wisely. If I war on the white men, they will come in still greater numbers, and my tribe will suffer. But the white men killed my father and took my mother and sister away. My mother did not want to leave us, and she sent word to me by old Moko, the Picture-maker, that she would try to escape from the white men and come back to me. Maybe she is dead now. When the sun shines on the winter snow, no one can bring it back. But the moisture sinks into the heart of the earth where the flowers are born. So though my mother has never come back to me, the memory of her words lives in my heart. I wish to rule my people wisely and help them. Maybe it would be best not to fight. I will ask my warriors. What they say, that will I do!"

When the Quahadas had gathered about their chief and the Kiowa messenger, the Kiowa spoke quickly.

"My chief sent me to ask whether Quannah, Chief of the Quahadas, will join us and lead your tribe to help us save our people from the white men who will kill the Comanches and Kiowas, take our children and squaws captives, and laugh at our humiliation. Shall I go back and say to my chief that Quannah, Chief of the Quahada Comanches, is a squaw because his 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 he replied, "Tell your chief that I and my warriors will fight against the white men because we must save the game and grass and protect our women and children. That is all. Go!"

Star and Running Deer watched the Kiowa messenger leap on the strange pony's back. Then, with a shrill call, the rider was lost in a cloud of dust that arose from the swiftly running pony, while Quannah, surrounded by his warriors, looked after the vanishing Indian.

"Why should the white men drive us from our camps?" asked Star as he turned to his mother. "We do not drive the Kiowas from their camps, and the Comanche ponies graze beside the ponies of other tribes, for there is grass enough for us all."

"White men are different from ponies," answered Running Deer. "That is all I know. Maybe the white men war among themselves and destroy each other's camps, and carry away the women and children as prisoners."

During that evening, when the shadows grew longer and darker, and the huge 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 a half circle, while Quannah and the Medicine Man faced them. The Medicine Man was very old. The face he lifted toward the stars was wrinkled, his raised hands trembled, and the words he spoke to the Great Spirit asked that help might be given the warriors so that the grass and game might be saved for the tribe.

While he was speaking, coyotes yelped from the darkness beyond the light of the camp fire, and Star, standing very closely against his mother, twitched nervously and kept looking backward to see how near the coyotes might be. All the ponies understood that a band of coyotes would chase any pony if it were alone, and if they overtook it, they would tear it to pieces. So when a bunch of coyotes came near the pony herd, the mares surrounded the colts in the very centre of the group, keeping their noses closely against the colts, and the mothers would lash out their heels and protect them. But fear of a band of coyotes never died as the colts 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 tells him. Then he will bless them that the strength of the Great Spirit may enter their hearts and help them conquer their enemies and save the game and the grass."

Through the night the fire burned brightly, while the Comanches sat in a large circle talking together. Star, waking many times, lifted his head that 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 as she lay beside him.

"Lie down and be quiet," she whispered angrily. "It is not dawn yet. You will waken the other ponies and they are weary. What is the matter with you to-night?"

"I want to go back to Songbird, Mother," he answered. "If the white men find the camp they may take her away as they took Quannah's mother and sister, and she may never come back again!"

"Quannah would follow them and get her back. He loves her more than anything else," Running Deer said.

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