Star Part 13

First she took pieces of dry buffalo meat and tied them together in a bunch, then she laid them carefully in a large square of buckskin. With them she placed some of the little cakes made of pounded meat and nuts, and as she glanced around she saw a prayer-stick, which she laid on the other things. The four corners of the buckskin were then drawn together and bound securely by a twisted thong.

After these preparations she took her doll and tucked it into the belt that held her robe at the waist. It was now almost dark.

She went out of the tepee and mingled with the other children, until they scattered for the night. Then Songbird returned to the tepee and sat alone, her arms about her knees, and her eyes staring steadily beyond the raised flap at the dim outline of the hill over which her father had ridden.

Satisfied, at last, that no one would notice her, she slipped cautiously from the tepee and made her way to where Star was stretched out among the old ponies. A hobble was on his front ankles, so that he would not stray during the night.

Songbird unfastened the hobble and thrust it into the bundle she was carrying, and Star rose to his feet. His head bent for the bridle in her hand. She did not mount the pony, but led him away from camp without arousing any one. Then clutching the bundle which she had prepared in the tepee, she climbed to Star's back and turned his head in the direction in which her father had led the warriors.

She had no fear that she would not be able to find them, for she knew their ponies would make a plain trail, and though she could not see it herself, Star would know and follow it. The Great Spirit taught ponies how to do that.

It was the memory of Preloch, who had ridden beside Peta Nocona when he had gone to fight the white men, that made Songbird determine that she would find her father and ride with him. She could shoot arrows as well as any large boy, and she could ride much better than most of them.

If her father told her that she could not stay and fight, she would remind him that the little boys who had frightened the white horses had not been any older than she was now. So she had brought her bow and all the arrows that she had been saving for a long time, and when she found her father she would show him that she was not a baby. She had her bow, her arrows, food to eat, and Star, who could out-run any other Quahada pony except Running Deer.

So she rode while it was dark, trusting Star to keep the trail. When the sun rose, the hoof prints of unshod ponies could be seen distinctly, though in some places the wind had stirred dry sand over them.

As a slight rise in the ground gave her a chance to look back, Songbird saw nothing moving, and felt quite sure that no one in the village had yet discovered her absence. Knowing that only slow old horses remained in the camp with the squaws, she hastened on her way, determined to lose no time in putting as many miles as possible between herself and any who might try to follow her.

It was only when the sun was low in the sky that Star and his little rider halted beside a shallow pool that had once been a deep water-hole in a swiftly running stream.

While Songbird lay on her face and drank her fill, Star, a short distance away, thrust his hot nose into the water and gulped greedily.

Then he turned his attention to some green gra.s.s that had grown about the edge of the pool, in spite of the drought, while Songbird, sitting beside the water-hole, munched a piece of dry buffalo meat and one of the little cakes made of pounded corn and nuts that she had packed for her journey.

As the sun sank beyond the edge of the land, Songbird, weary but not afraid, lay down on the ground to sleep. Star, hobbled carefully to prevent his straying far, stretched near her. He did not sleep.

At the least sound he lifted his head and p.r.i.c.ked up his ears, while he peered with bright eyes into the night. He knew that coyotes might be prowling close, and he was ready to leap to his feet and fight them with his strong teeth and nimble heels if they came where his little mistress slept so soundly. Once in the night she woke. He heard her move, then suddenly she called in a half-frightened voice:

"Star!"

His soft nicker answered that he had not left her, and he rose to go close to her. When he settled down again, Songbird's hand rested on his shoulder and her head was pillowed on his neck. Her other hand held her doll.

Thus the sun saw them when it peeped over the opposite edge of the world the next morning. Then it shot golden arrows silently, and Songbird's eyes opened. For a few minutes she wondered where she was, but as Star twitched a little she raised her head quickly and sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

Star lost no time in getting on his feet. He had kept very still so that he might not disturb her, and it felt good to move about. Songbird reached down and unfastened the hobbles that held his front feet so that he could take only short steps of about eight inches, or hop with both front feet at the same time. As soon as he was free he lay down and rolled over three times without stopping, kicking his heels in the air.

It was easy to roll over now that he was so strong and fully grown.

It did not take long for the two wanderers to finish breakfast. A drink of water from the pool, and food such as they had eaten for dinner the previous night, satisfied them both. After that, Songbird slipped the rawhide bridle on Star, picked up her doll and carefully brushed the dust from it, then tucked it safely into her belt. Mounting her pony, she started again on her way to find her father.

But the trail became more faint, and a hot, dry wind blew dust into her eyes. As the sun rose higher the wind became stronger, and at last nothing but a haze of yellow dust could be seen. Star plodded on, but at intervals he whinnied shrilly, hoping to hear an answer through the dust storm. Only the sound of the wind and the hiss of blowing sand came back to him.

All day they travelled in the sandstorm, and Songbird dropped the rein on her pony's neck, not knowing which way to guide him. The wind died down at sunset, but when the haze of dust lifted, Songbird faced a stretch of desert, where only tiny clumps of dry weeds showed here and there, half-buried by the heaped up sand that formed small mounds about each weed.

She knew then that she was lost on the Great Desert of the Staked Plains, where no white man could venture and come out safely, and where even the best trailers of the Quahadas travelled only when the warriors had no other way of outwitting their pursuers.

As she sat on Star, looking at the endless sand, all the stories she had heard the older people tell about the suffering from thirst on the Staked Plains came back to her. They had spoken of lost trails where the sand had s.h.i.+fted and buried all traces even in one hour. There had been a Quahada runner, who, lost for five days without water, had found his way back to camp but had died before he could swallow the water that the Indians held to his lips.

Songbird knew that there was no water on this desert except when the rain fell heavily, and then it gathered only for a short time in a hollow, for the hot sun and the dry sand soon made it disappear. This summer there had been no rain.

Since leaving the pool that morning, Songbird and Star had found no other water, but she had hoped that the trail of her father would lead to some. He knew all the country and just where to find water each night for his warriors and ponies. But the terrible dust storm had blinded her and the wind had blown the loose sand over the Quahada trail.

Her eyes grew big with fear, and her shoulders, which had been held so bravely when the sand storm beat upon her, now drooped as though a heavy weight were placed on her neck.

Miles and miles of silence and loneliness threatened her on every side.

Her head sank forward until it rested on Star's s.h.a.ggy mane, and her arms clung tightly about his neck. There was no one to remind her that she was the daughter of a chief. Only Star and the Great Spirit heard the sobs of a frightened, lonely little child.

But at last she raised her head, and sat thinking intently. Then she turned Star's head in the opposite direction. That morning when she had wakened, she remembered now, the sun had shone in her eyes, and she had travelled toward it until it was straight above her head.

Songbird knew that the village must lie in the same direction as the sunset. If Star could take her to the water pool once more, she could find her way to the Quahada camp. She understood now the risk of trying to follow her father, and that made her decide that she would try to return to the camp and stay there until he should come back.

The tracks made earlier in the day by Star's feet were already indistinct, as the loose sand did not hold an impression very long, and the faintest wind hid it completely. Beyond the desert a trail remained distinct for a long time.

It was growing dark. Songbird was so tired that she wanted to cry again, but she blinked her eyes fiercely, reminding herself that her father was a chief. As they travelled toward the place where the sun set, she took a piece of the dry meat from her bundle and started to chew it. But she was so thirsty that it choked her. So she put it back uneaten.

Hopefully she looked about for a sign of a mesquite bush, knowing that she could quench her thirst by chewing the beans that grew in pods from the branches. But lack of rain had kept any beans from forming, and she remembered that the mesquite bushes near the camp had yielded no crop.

Only a bit of shrivelled desert brush, half buried in the sand, met her eyes as she rode.

A terrible fear conquered her, and she struck Star's sides sharply with her moccasined heels. At once he swung into an easy, swift lope, his ears c.o.c.ked and his eyes fixed straight ahead of him. Songbird did not try to guide him now, but allowed the rein to lie loosely on his neck, while she balanced herself to his movements.

At times the pony slowed down to a walk, but he did not stop, and Songbird did not have to urge him to resume his quicker gait. Where she had guided him earlier in the day, he now went of his own free will.

Some instinct beyond that of any human being told Star which way to go.

More than once Songbird, too sleepy to sit erect, laid her head on Star's neck, where the thick mane made a soft pillow. Then the pony walked very slowly and very carefully while Songbird slept. Once she slipped from his back to the soft sand. Though it wakened her at once, the fall did not hurt her, and as she lay on her back, staring up, she saw Star standing beside her. Patiently he was waiting for her to climb on his back. Then Songbird knew that her pony would not desert her, even though it were dark and he wore no hobbles.

So through the long night Star carried her safely. With the first gray light of dawn, the pony gave a soft nicker of pleasure, and broke into his swiftest run. Songbird leaned down and patted his black neck. Ahead of them loomed a group of trees, and she knew, as well as Star, that the trees grew beside the water-hole.

When they reached it, both pony and child drank as though they would never stop. Songbird bathed her face and held her arms in the water, while Star walked out to the deepest part of the pool and stood there heaving great sighs of content.

Afterward, still standing knee deep in the pool, he stretched his neck so that he could nibble the gra.s.s growing on its edges while Songbird ate the dry meat that no longer choked her.

Then, side by side, Star and Songbird lay down to sleep.

Only the buckskin Indian doll guarded them, but its painted eyes glared so fiercely that it would have taken a very brave person to have ventured near!

Chapter XIX

When Songbird awoke the next morning, Star had already eaten his breakfast, so she lost no time in satisfying her own hunger with a bit of the dried meat and pounded maize, finis.h.i.+ng off her meal with a drink of water from the pool.

Then carefully tying up her bundle and tucking her doll into her belt, Songbird mounted her pony and started back to the village. She had no trouble following the trail now, for the ground was not so sandy or soft. Besides, Star knew his way without any guidance.

When they had left the Quahada village it had been dark, so they had travelled more slowly. It was late in the afternoon when at last they neared the hill which overlooked the camp. Songbird knew that all the women and children would be preparing the evening meal.

She felt very happy knowing that she would be with them safely in a few minutes, and she knew they would all be glad that Star had brought her out of the terrible desert. But she was now rather ashamed of herself at having run away without telling any one of her plans. Then she hoped that her father had not returned and found her missing, for his anger at the women would have been terrible, yet they were not to blame at all.