Chapter XI

The next morning when Star, with his mother and the Old White Horse, had found a nice place to graze near the other ponies, the Big Gray Horse that Star had noticed the previous night joined them, and the Old White Horse hastened to rub noses with him.

Star watched curiously, then edged cautiously toward them. His nose twitched, for Star was not quite sure whether he had better bite the Big Gray Horse or not. The stranger was so big and was certainly very handsome. He had a beautiful long silver tail and a heavy silver mane.

His ears were very small and tapered to delicate points, his forehead was broad, and his eyes unusually large and bright. His neck arched proudly and when he moved every muscle beneath his glistening dappled skin told how powerful he was. Star reached him, and as they faced each other, the Big Gray Horse lifted a front hoof and pawed the ground lightly.

The Old White Horse watched him respectfully, and Running Deer joined the group, so that the four of them stood with their noses almost touching.

"Who are you?" asked Running Deer, when the Big Gray Horse showed plainly that he wanted to be friends.

"I am the horse of a general," was the proud answer.

"What is a general?" Star hastened to inquire, and the Big Gray Horse looked at him in surprise.

"A general is a great soldier who commands many men," he said. "General Mackenzie owns me, but I was confused by the noise and the darkness and thought that I was running with our troop horses. When I learned that I was among the Indian ponies it was too late for me to escape, for the Comanches chased me back into their own herd each time I tried to get away."

"I was confused, but not afraid," the Old White Horse explained. "I have been so many years a troop horse that I am not a coward in a fight. You believe that, don't you?" He looked anxiously at the Big Gray Horse.

"Yes," it answered. "Neither a man nor a horse that has grown old in the service turns coward when he grows old. Sometimes we horses run just because other horses are running; sometimes we misunderstand our orders and run wild. That was how many horses broke loose when the Indian boys. .h.i.t us over the heads and backs with those bits of buffalo hide. When some picket-ropes broke, the rest of us thought we would be left behind, so we all struggled until we were free. Then I ran, guided by the sound of other hoofs in the darkness, and not waiting to know whether those around me were troop horses or Comanche ponies. I thought I was doing what was right and best."

"And then what happened?" Star questioned eagerly.

"The soldiers fired their guns, and many tried to catch the running horses which were dragging long ropes. The Comanches were all around in the darkness. Then all I really knew after that was that a lot of us were among the Comanche ponies and the warriors were urging us on. It was dawn when we halted, and the soldiers were nowhere to be seen."

"Nearly all of the White Troop horses are with us," the Old White Horse spoke.

Star lifted his head and glanced over the peacefully grazing herd, where a large number of white animals were mixed among the Comanche ponies.

They were easily picked out, not only because of their colour, but also because they were much larger than the Indian ponies.

"Your fighting men cannot follow us," bragged Star, "for they have no ponies now."

"You are wrong," replied the Big Gray Horse. "There are hundreds more horses, hundreds more soldiers who will follow the Comanches. The white men are like the blades of gra.s.s, the stars in the sky, or the leaves of the trees in a great forest. No one can count them. Others will join our masters and keep on the trail until the Indians are all conquered. I know what I say, for I have listened to my General and all his officers talking while they rode together."

"Why do they wish to conquer us?" demanded Star angrily. "The land, the gra.s.s, the rivers belong to us! Why do the white men come out of far places to take these things away from us?"

"I am only a horse," the other replied. "How can I tell? I only know that my General holds the rein that guides me, and I love and obey him.

Sometimes while he rides slowly, he and the other officers talk together. Then we, their horses, listen. So we learn much, but there are many things none of us understand."

"Have you, too, heard them talk?" Running Deer questioned the Old White Horse which had kept silent all this time.

"I do not belong to an officer," he said. "I am only a troop horse. A soldier rides me and we must follow the officers. My rider is an old soldier. I am a very old troop horse. Our duty is to obey, not ask questions, nor reason. Whether we are on parade or fighting, all I have to remember is to mind the reins quickly, to listen sharply for the bugle calls, and to keep my eyes fixed on the little pointed flag of our troop. For that is the troop guidon. Where it leads, we follow."

"We horses do not want to fight you ponies," the Big Gray Horse went on as the Old White Horse stopped speaking. "We have no quarrel between us."

"Maybe if the Indians and the white men could understand one another's talk it would stop the fighting," Running Deer joined the conversation again. "We horses understand one another and we do not want to fight.

Preloch understood the Comanche tongue, and she did not fight them. She made peace between those who wished to fight in the tribe. When people do not understand one another that must be the reason for all the trouble!"

"Then white men never fight with one another!" Star exclaimed suddenly.

The Big Gray Horse and the Old White Horse hung their heads and were silent, while the two Comanche ponies looked at them.

"_Do the white men fight one another?_" demanded Running Deer at last.

"Yes, sometimes," the Big Gray Horse replied. "There are white men who steal, kill, betray, and oppress the weak and helpless. Those who know the law and break it are punished by the law."

"But the Indians do not know the white man's law, neither do they speak the same tongue," snorted Running Deer, while her eyes showed little red sparks of anger. "It was the white men who fought the Quahadas and took away Preloch and Prairie Flower."

"The Comanches had killed and stolen white women and children," replied the Big Gray Horse. "So that was why the white men fought the Indians and took Quannah's mother and sister captive."

"Then how are the white men any better than the Comanches?" Running Deer snapped angrily. "You tell us that the white men are wise and good, and that the Comanches should learn the white men's ways and their laws, and yet you also say that the white men fight, steal, oppress, and kill one another, and if the Comanches take a white man's squaw or children, it is right for the white men to kill us, steal our women and children, and destroy our homes! If that is the right law for them, it is the right law for us. How can they teach us to be better than they are, themselves?"

"Just as you speak, I once heard an officer speak," responded the Big Gray Horse. "But when an order comes to an officer, he must obey. If we horses feel the reins, hear the bugle calling, see the troop guidon fluttering ahead of us, we ask no questions. Like our masters who ride us, we obey, for wherever the flag leads, we must follow and uphold it.

There is much I do not understand, but I do know we horses have no quarrel with the Comanche ponies."

"Let us leave those things to men," the Old White Horse said. "We horses are good friends and will not bite or kick one another. Why should we fight when there is gra.s.s enough for us all? The world is big!"

"You are right," was Running Deer's comment. "And now if you will come with me I will show you where the gra.s.s is sweeter and more tender than any other spot for miles around. Only a few ponies besides myself and Star know the place. We will share it with you."

Side by side the troop horse and the horse of the general followed the Comanche mare and her colt.

Chapter XII

Life in the Quahada village went very happily for Star and Songbird after the return of Quannah and his warriors. The white men had evidently withdrawn from their chase of the Comanches, and Quannah did not intend to cause further trouble unless the buffalo hunters or other white people encroached upon the land which the Quahadas considered their own.

The Old White Horse and the Big Gray Horse seemed to be very well satisfied among the Indian ponies, but Star was a special favourite.

More than once his mother chided him for liking the white men's horses better than older friends among the Comanche ponies. Sometimes she even drove him away from the cavalry horses and forced him to stay with the others. At such times Star did his best to escape her watchful eyes and return to his friends, but it was not an easy thing to accomplish. When his efforts failed, he would call loudly to the two horses, and their answers told him that they understood he had not deserted them.

"Why do you want to stay beside them all the time?" Hawk asked him one day when Running Deer had shouldered and nipped Star until he was in the very midst of the herd.

"Because they teach me so many things our ponies do not know," he answered quickly.

"What can a white man's horse tell a Comanche pony?" Hawk said scornfully.

"A great many things," was Star's reply. "I listen to them talking to each other about big camps of white men, of strange houses that move as swiftly as lightning, and of the wonderful flag that floats every day from a tall white lodge-pole in the place where they live with many horses and soldiers."

"We have lodge-poles, too," Hawk spoke impatiently. "Can their flag bring rain like the Thunder Bird that lives in the forks of the pole of the Sacred Sun Lodge?"

"No," Star shook his head, "I asked the Big Gray Horse about that, and told him how the Sun caught the Thunder Bird and kept it prisoner in the forks of the tall pole of the Sacred Sun Lodge, and that no rain could fall until our Medicine Men and warriors vanquished the Sun and set the Thunder Bird free; and how the Thunder Bird spread its great black wings and rain fell from its pinions upon the thirsty earth, so that the gra.s.s and flowers awoke from their sleep."

"Can their flag do that?" demanded Hawk.