Walking through the village, the young brave waved and called to his friends. He laughed when they joked with him about his empty hands. He had been unable to find any game that he felt was worth bringing to the village. Soon he reached his father’s tepee and was welcomed warmly by the family. When supper was finished, Singing Fire went to talk with his friend, Many Painted Ponies. The two braves had always been together since they were very young and just learning to walk. Now whenever they had time, they would sit and talk about their future together as great leaders of the Apache tribe. He found his friend working at making new arrow tips. “Hello, my good friend, Many Painted Ponies, and how are you this fine evening?” “My stomach is full and my heart is happy, Singing Fire. Could a brave ask much more of life? I have been very fortunate in having such a fine father and mother who have made my life such a pleasure. As I saw you ride in from the hunt, I noticed you carried no game. Was there no game where you rode? Usually you do not return empty-handed.” “Today was bad for the hunt. The largest game knew that I was hunting and ran for cover, and I was not as quick as they to find the hiding places.” The two young men laughed and then spent some time talking until darkness came. Each young man went back to his tepee for a well-earned sleep. The next day there was great excitement in the village. As young Singing Fire stepped from his tepee, he saw that people were gathering in the center of the village to hear a tall Apache warrior who was talking loudly and rapidly to the chief of the village. As Singing Fire drew near, he was able to catch some of the words spoken by the warrior. “It is true, my Chief, the Comanches have been seen in our land. If we are not careful they will raid our pony herds and make off with many of our best mounts. I have seen them to the east, and they skulk like the lowly wolf in the night.” The great chief listened quietly until the young warrior had finished. Then he motioned to the older men of the tribe to gather in his tepee. When they were all inside, Singing Fire, Many Painted Ponies, and the other young braves stood outside waiting impatiently for what the elders of the tribe would decide. They could hear the young brave who had first reported to the chief repeating his story for those who had come late. He said that while trailing some ponies that had strayed from the herd he had come upon the coals of a recent fire. Because the marks in the sand were not Apache, he had followed the tracks made when the group broke camp. Traveling at a rapid pace, he soon had come upon the band of Comanches in a small gully. After watching them for a short while, the brave had mounted his pony and ridden as fast as he could to the village to tell the chief of this threat to their property and peace, within such a short distance of their camp.