Star: The Story of an Indian Pony

by Forrestine C. Hooker

So long as the wind came toward him from any living thing, he could escape, but when the wind blew away from him toward another animal or a man, the coyote knew that he was not safe from surprise or attack.

Trained from puppyhood by their mothers how to meet their enemies and preserve their own lives, the coyotes always picked the strongest, swiftest, and most daring of a pack for the leader. At nightfall these leaders raced ahead of their packs across the prairie land, and when one leader reached high ground he squatted down on his lean haunches and sent out the call of his tribe.

Before the echo had died away into silence, another leader gave answer. After that other coyotes took up the cry, and then from all sides the packs swept down the slopes and came together in a big gray mass.

Their long tongues lolled from their mouths as they ran, their green eyes glanced ravenously from side to side. Rabbits and other small game, hearing the cry of the pack, scurried into hiding. Antelopes and deer huddled more closely, keeping the young, weak fawns in the centre. Often the hungry coyotes formed yelping circles about the antelopes, and at times made dashes at them, hoping to frighten some fawn so that it would run alone. For if it left the shelter of the herd only half a minute, the coyotes would leap upon it and tear it to pieces.

The does and the stags of the herd knew the danger. So while the mothers' bodies sheltered their little ones, the stags, with long, many-pronged horns, dashed at the coyotes and, if close enough, tossed or gored their foes, often rearing straight up on their hind legs to stamp on the coyotes with sharply pointed little hoofs that cut like keen knives.

With all other animals of the plains, the Comanche ponies knew that if any colt ever strayed alone from the herd, he might fall a victim to the coyote packs. Even buffalo calves had been dragged down by a bunch of the prowling animals. Star's mother had many times shown him torn bits of buffalo hide and scattered bones which told that the pack had found a buffalo calf unprotected. Hundreds of coyotes gather in each band, and swift as the wind, they cover many miles in search of a victim.

Now, as the first call of the gathering coyotes died away, Running Deer spoke hurriedly to Star, who needed no urging. Turning sharply on their hind hoofs, they started on a swift run toward the place where all the other ponies were being herded.

It was much farther than Running Deer or Star had thought. The coyotes were not far behind. The sound of the pack grew louder, and the gray brutes came over the hill yelping with glee as they saw the two ponies. Running Deer kept talking quietly to her colt as they ran.

"Don't jump high, run low and save yourself all you can," she said, her nose near Star's, but her eyes straight ahead of her. "They run fast to-night because they have not eaten nor found water. So we must be careful."

It was the first time that Star had been chased by coyotes. He knew that his mother had been followed many times, so he listened to every word and obeyed her. Both ponies were puffing slightly, but their pace did not change though their way often led up steep slopes then down opposite banks while their forefeet ploughed deeply into the earth.