"Like leaves swept by fierce winds the warriors rushed onward. Peta Nocona, the old chief's young son, rode my mother at the head of the Quahadas. He was almost a child in years, but a man in daring, and often the chief gave him the honour of leading the warriors. All at once in the distance a few specks caught his keen eyes, and he drew my mother's reins, while all the Comanches halted to talk. Then each warrior leaned down against the shoulder of his pony, and they raced until they had formed a large circle around the moving spots. Gradually closing about them, Peta Nocona led his men.
"My mother said that those in the centre greeted them. It was Pa-ha-u-ka's band, and with them were a boy and a girl with white skins, who looked at the Comanches in fear. The girl's hair was long and gold like the arrows of the sun, her eyes were like the summer sky, her skin like untrodden snow.
"The son of our chief rode to her side, and when she shrank back in fear, he smiled and told her that no harm should come to her. She did not understand his words, for she spoke in a strange tongue, but she did understand his kindly eyes and voice and smile. So she made no struggle when he lifted her from the arms of the warrior who was holding her. Placing her before him on my mother's back, he held her carefully until they reached our camp."
"Did the white boy come, too?" asked Star as Running Deer paused to take a bite of grass.
"My mother said that the boy did not come into our camp and she did not know where he went. Part of the Comanches, who belonged to Pa-ha-u-ka's band, followed another trail and were gone a long time. But the little white girl was not unhappy, for she had our chief's son as her companion. We called her Preloch. All the care that would have been given to the daughter of our chief was given to her until she reached womanhood. Then she and the chief's son, Peta Nocona, were married with great feasting and dancing that lasted many days, and everyone was very happy for they all loved her and the chief's young son.
"When the old chief, worn with the weight of many winters, slept with his forefathers, the young chief ruled in his place. There was much rejoicing when a son was born to Peta Nocona and his golden-haired squaw, Preloch. They called him Quannah, which, as you know, means 'Fragrant.' Later a little daughter came to them, and her name was Prairie Flower, for she was so pale and delicate that it seemed as though a rough hand could crush her, or a strong wind carry her away on its breast. The warriors honoured and obeyed Peta Nocona, who became a great War Chief, and the women, children, and ponies loved his white squaw, Preloch, for her gentle ways. Wherever he went, she rode at his side, her baby daughter clasped in her arms, while little Quannah followed closely behind on his pony, often shooting arrows as he rode.
"The young chief had given my mother, Blackbird, to Preloch, and I was a colt, past two years old, when white men found our camp. I do not know just what happened, for in the darkness of night Gray Beard, Big Wolf, and Spotted Leopard led me into a strange place among great trees, and there we found Quannah waiting us. They spoke earnestly to him, then he leaped to my back and we dashed away.
"For many days we were alone, except when a warrior came and sat talking gravely. I heard Karolo, the Medicine Man, tell Quannah one day, that the white men had taken Preloch and Prairie Flower away with them. Then he told that his mother had sent a message, bidding her son remain with his father's people and rule them wisely and justly. She did not want to leave her son and the Comanche people whom she loved so much, but she had been made a prisoner by the white men and they were taking her and her baby away to their own homes."
"Why?" asked Star, wonderingly.
"I do not know," answered Running Deer. "I am telling the story as it all happened. How could an Indian pony understand the white man's ways, when the wise men of the tribe did not understand? My mother told me the story of the little white girl, and I heard what the old warriors said to Quannah while we hid in the mountains; but I do know that neither Preloch nor Prairie Flower ever came back to us again, and Quannah never saw them again.