"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.