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 cocked 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 grass growing on its edges while Songbird ate the dry meat that no longer choked her.