she drew the buffalo robe over her head and sobbed herself to sleep.

Chapter VI

Far away from the camp where Songbird waited her father's return, Star, with his mother and the other Comanche ponies, travelled rapidly, while Quannah watched the country with eyes as sharp and bright as those of an eagle.

Strange warriors from the Kiowas rode into camp on ponies which were covered with dry lather that told how far and how fast the men had ridden. At the same time Comanche messengers were being sent off on ponies, and there was a constant stir in the camp.

Star wondered about it, until he could restrain his curiosity no longer.

"Where do they go?" he questioned Running Deer, at last. His mother had been very nervous and cross, and she answered sharply:

"They go to see where the white men travel, so that Quannah may know where to find them. Be quiet, now. Watch and you will learn everything for yourself. Do not talk too much, but watch and listen, then you will grow wise."

Quannah was lifting his hand, and Star's bright eyes saw one of the youngest warriors ride up to the chief.

"Let me go this time," begged the young man.

"Your pony is not swift enough," replied the chief, and the young man bowed his head in shame.

"He has but one pony," Running Deer spoke scornfully to Star. "He is poor and his mare is old. When his father went to the Happy Hunting Grounds he left but two ponies for his son, and one of them has died. His heart is brave, but his pony's legs are weak, so he will not be sent."

As Quannah began speaking, Star lifted his head quickly.

"You shall go. Running Deer is the swiftest pony of the Comanche herd, and Star, her colt, though young and untried, should be fleet-footed and sure. You shall ride him to-day."

In a few minutes the young warrior was seated on Star's bare back. Running Deer watched anxiously. But the colt's back did not weaken, nor did he flinch beneath the man's weight. It seemed no more of a burden than when Songbird had ridden him.

"Watch out for prairie-dog holes and loose, smooth stones," cautioned Running Deer. "When you go most swiftly, hold your nose level with your shoulders, and look straight before you without turning your head from side to side. Do not leap high, but let your body drop low to the earth when you run, and in that way you can outstrip other ponies and not weary for many long miles. If your rider falls from you, do not leave him, but stay near by until he climbs again to your back, or someone comes for you. And always remember that you belong to the Chief of the Comanches."

While Running Deer was speaking, Quannah was talking in a low voice to the young man who sat on Star's back. As the chief's words ceased, the pony felt the rider lean forward, and his knees press closely against his sides; then, like an arrow shot from a strong bow, Star, son of Running Deer, darted on his way.

The fresh breeze swept into the pony's nostrils, it tossed his thick, black mane, and his long tail streamed like a tattered black flag, while the Comanche lying low against Star's shoulder seemed to be a part of the animal he was riding.

Across the wide prairie the pony raced, guided by a noose of plaited rawhide. He did not need the pressure of this rope on his neck, for the mere movement of the Indian's body was enough to tell him which way to go. No whip or blow from the rider's heels was necessary. Star understood that the chief had sent him, and the son of Running Deer must prove himself worthy of her training and his heritage.

All day they travelled. At intervals the Indian made him walk a short distance, then once more Star broke into the smooth, swift run. They passed near a band of startled antelopes which whirled and dashed away; farther off, a bunch of galloping buffaloes thudded with their heads held low down, the humps on their shoulders rising and falling like small waves of dark water, but the Indian on Star's back paid no heed to them. The quiver full of sharply pointed arrows remained slung across his back.

Just before dusk the Comanche halted among huge rocks. Slipping from the pony's back, he held his fingers tightly about Star's nose, to prevent the animal from calling out. Some distance below them, the pony saw a great multitude of white-faced men and big ponies. The men were dressed in strange clothes instead of the robes that Indians wore. Some of them lifted things from their heads, and Star stared in surprise at the short hair. Quannah and all the Indians the pony had ever seen had worn long braids of hair called scalp-locks. It was a disgrace for a warrior to lose his scalp lock, and a great trophy of victory for any foe who cut it off. So the pony wondered why Quannah should be so grave about fighting men who had lost their scalp-locks.

As the men rode nearer, Star saw belts filled with things that gleamed, and there were long, bright sticks in their hands. The pony understood at once that these were what his mother had spoken about. Things that could roar like angry buffaloes and spit fire that killed Comanche warriors and ponies. He shivered and shrank back, but as he felt the Indian's fingers tighten, the pony remembered that Quannah had sent them here, and he must stay with his rider.

Star forgot his fears in watching the men fix many white tepees in long rows, and there were strange things that looked like long, round-topped hills of snow which moved slowly forward, each dragged by six queer-looking animals. Star had never seen such strange ponies. They were all dark brown like the bark on trees, their ears were very long, their heads large, they had no flowing manes, and the only hair on their tails was in a thick bunch at the very end. While Star watched them, one of the creatures lifted up its nose and uttered a terrific noise. Instantly the others joined, and the din was so frightful that Star would have turned and raced away had not the Comanche held tightly to the pony's nose. It was the first time in his life that Star had seen white men, and he had never heard any pony speak of mules or wagons.

The young warrior crouched low. Before the noise ceased, he had led Star very cautiously until they gained a spot out of sight and hearing of the white men. Then leaping to the pony's back, the Indian raced furiously toward Quannah's camp in the sheltering hills. It was past dawn when the Comanche halted at Quannah's side. The whole camp was astir.

Other couriers had arrived from different points, on ponies streaked with dust. While the animals rubbed noses together, the messengers told Quannah what each had seen.

The man who had ridden Star was the first to speak.

"Great bands of white men are coming from all four sides of the world. The band I saw is larger than all the Kiowas and Comanches together. They are one day's ride from here and they are travelling this way."

"And in another place I saw a band of fighting men coming this way," spoke a second courier.

"Still another big band comes from the opposite side," the third man spoke.

"And back on our own trail, I saw them travelling toward us." The last speaker was one of the head chiefs under Quannah. "I left my pony a long way off that he might not make any noise and warn the white men. Then I crawled like a snake until I reached a hill near the white tepees. I heard men's voices but I could not understand what they said. They speak a different tongue from ours. But there were so many men and so many ponies that they were as the leaves on the trees or the blades of grass. How shall we fight them and hope to conquer?"

"They will surround us from all sides, as the hunters gather around a herd of antelopes," one of the men said. "If they were not in back of us, we could go to the camp where the women and children wait."

Quannah looked at the trail which led toward his little daughter, as he said in a voice that all could hear plainly, "We will do it. I have a plan. We must protect our