2 Camp Independence

Ned and Will felt supreme gratitude as they rode into the dark woods. They had had enough of dodging, fighting and running for one night, and many more, too, for that matter. The forest seemed to be extensive, spreading many miles to right and left, and perhaps it had a depth of many miles also. They would be secure there against further pursuit for a while at least. No Mexican force, unless in great numbers, would dare to face the ambush of such deadly riflemen as they had proved themselves to be.

“Havin’ rid so far an’ havin’ rid without harm, I think we ought to get down and lead our horses,” said the Panther. “It wouldn’t look good if, after havin’ escaped Mexican bullets, we was to break our necks over logs in the dark.”

Ned and Will, after so many transfers, were glad enough to get down and walk. The others dismounted also, and led their horses, a wise precaution, as they were compelled to choose a way through dense undergrowth and boughs that hung loose. They advanced about an hour without talking, and then the Panther, who was in advance called out to them to halt.

“We’ve come to a little creek,” he said, “an’ I reckernize in it an old friend. I know this forest, too, now. It’s one of the biggest and thickest in eastern Texas. Twenty years ago I killed one of the most tremenjous panthers I ever saw about a mile up this creek. There are panthers here yet, plenty of ’em, but they won’t bother us. What I’m thinkin’ about now is a natural camp, one of the finest places of the kind that you ever saw, but it will take us till daylight to reach it.”

“Lead on,” said Obed White. “I want to find that beautiful natural camp of yours. I grow both sleepy and tired and ’tis sleep that knits up the worn muscles and the weary back. I’d wager, too, that these young friends of ours are tired of the game,—‘now the Mexicans see you, now they don’t; now you needn’t run, now you must.’”

“You are certainly right, Obed,” said Will Allen. “I think that just at this minute I’m at least a hundred and ten years old. I could drop right down here in the woods, go to sleep in a second, and sleep a month.”

“You don’t do any droppin’ an’ you don’t do any sleepin’ till I take you to the right place,” said the Panther. “I said I had the best of camps waitin’ for us, an’ I have.”

They went on until nearly dawn, and as they advanced the country grew rougher, broken here and there with outcrops of stone. It was nearly dawn, when the Panther led them through forest so dense that they could scarcely force their way into a depression, shaped like a bowl, about twenty feet deep and about two hundred in diameter. The basin contained only high grass and a small clear pool of water on one side. But it was walled in by lofty trees and dense undergrowth. The Panther rode cautiously down a narrow path, followed in the same manner by the others, and then looked around with satisfaction at his comrades.

“It’s a reg’lar nest,” he said. “I hit on it by accident years ago, an’ the Mexicans, who don’t know much about this part of the country, haven’t one chance in five hundred to run across it. I don’t know how such a queer place happened to be here, but I guess it’s enough that it is here.”

“It must be a crater,” said Ned. “There was a volcano here, but it became extinct five or six million years ago. I think that a bowl like this could be accounted for only in that manner.”

“I saw two or three such in the forests of northern New York when I was a boy,” said Deaf Smith, “an’ heard learned men say that they were craters.”

“It won’t bust out with fire and brimstone while we’re here?” said Karnes with some alarm.

“Scarcely,” said Obed White, “when the fires have been out five or six million years. Maybe the world then was just full of roaring chimneys, but this place is the nest the Panther said it was, and it won’t be long before you’ll find me on the grass there, knitting up my sleeves of care as fast as I can sleep.”

Great bars of red and gold were now appearing in the east and the dawn was coming swiftly. The crater with its grass and its sheltering woods about it made a powerful appeal to Ned and Will. Both were on the verge of collapse, but this was a better haven than they had hoped. Obed White’s shrewd eye was on them.

“Now, boys,” he said, “you two begin knitting your ravelled sleeves right away. I don’t think you can last a minute longer. Take these blankets, drop down in the grass and off with you.”

It was scarcely three minutes before the two were asleep at the side of the bowl just under the overhanging boughs. The men watered the horses at the pool, tethered them with long lariats, in order that they might graze on the grass and also sought sleep. They felt so secure that they set no watch, and soon all were slumbering soundly.

They slept all through the morning. The horses ceased to graze and rested also. There was complete quiet and peace in the crater. A great sun rose high in the blue sky and poured floods of gold over the forest, but the beams did not touch the faces of the sleepers who lay under the thick overhanging boughs.

It was true that the young Urrea led the Mexican band. The most daring of all the Mexican raiders, he had seen the signal and had ridden to capture Ned and Will. He was filled with rage and mortification at their escape and the escape of the men who had joined them. He hunted a while through the forest with his troop, but it was a difficult task, particularly for the lancers. They did not come within miles of the crater, and before midnight he gave up the search, returning eastward.

Obed White was the first of those in the crater to awake, and he slowly drew up his long length. Then he walked out into the center of the bowl, where the brilliant sun turned his red hair into flame. He drew a long and deep breath of satisfaction. Then he looked at the sleepers and murmured:

“He laughs best who sleeps last. Doubtless Urrea and his men gave up the chase long before we got here and made this camp. But they couldn’t have any such cosy nest as ours.”

Obed White, despite the light talk that he liked, was a thoughtful man. His mind passed from their present situation to that of all the Texans, and then his face clouded. They had been scouting upon the flank of Santa Anna’s forces and it seemed that everything was lost. In that whole region the ten who lay there in the crater were the sole force in arms against the Mexicans. Ninety-nine out of a hundred men would consider longer resistance hopeless and would take flight northward. But his cheerfulness returned as his comrades awoke, one by one. The boys were the last to arise, but they felt as if they had been reborn.

“The sleeves seem to have been knitted up well,” said Obed White.

“Never better,” replied Ned, joyously, “and our muscles and sinews are knitted together again, too. But I’m hungry, Obed, I’m so hungry that I feel like going up the hillside there, and biting the bark off a tree.”

“No need for that,” called out Karnes. “I’ll have a beautiful fire burnin’ here inside of five minutes an’ we’ve got plenty of dried venison to cook. Now, you an’ Will just go down to the pool, an’ wash your faces like good little boys, an’ maybe we’ll let you sit at the first table an’ eat breakfast with us.”

The two boys went to the pool gladly enough, drank of the cool water at the shallow end, bathed their faces at the deep end, and then returned to find the fire burning and three of the men cooking strips of venison over the flames. All ate hungrily.

It seemed to Ned and Will that the whole world had changed. Last night they had been fighting and running for their lives. Now they were suddenly dropped down into a little garden of Eden. Birds sang in the forest all about them. The sound of the light wind among the leaves was like the ripple of flowing water. It did not seem possible that an enemy could be within a hundred miles.

“You have certainly done your duty, Panther,” said Obed White, “you have led us to a home.”

“I’m thinkin’ that we might make it a home shore enough,” said the Panther. “Keepin’ this as our fort, so to speak, we might do a lot of scoutin’ an’ if need be, fightin’ for Texas. Our people have got to draw their breath before they meet Santa Anna ag’in, an’ while they’re drawin’ it we might do a lot of useful things.”

“They’re tellin’ that Sam Houston won’t gather a force, and go after Santa Anna,” said one of the men.

“Don’t you believe it,” said the Panther. “Sam Houston is as brave as a hundred lions, an’ he won’t strike till he can hit hard. The Texans are all in confusion over the Alamo an’ Goliad, but the men that are scattered now will come back ag’in to the lone star flag. Meanwhile we’ll decide whether we’ll make this our rallyin’ point, for the roarin’ an’ rippin’ an’ t’arin’ that we’re lookin’ forward to on our own account. What do you say, Deaf?”

“Couldn’t find a better, if we looked a hundred years.”

“An’ you, Obed?”

“A home in the crater is worth two in the bush. Right here I stay.”

“An’ you, Hank?”

“They made it six million years ago. But they made it just for us.”

The other men answered in the same way, but the boys spoke up for the crater as a home before they could be asked.

“That bein’ all settled,” said the Panther, “I think we’d better look ’roun’ a little an’ then make our house. We ain’t likely to have much bad weather an’ this nest is pretty well sheltered, but we don’t want to be rained on. It ain’t cheerin’, an’ it wouldn’t be no fun, neither, to be hit by a Norther.”

Ned was already examining the crater. He had noticed that the water of the pool was unusually cool and fresh, and he found that it was fed by a tiny stream trickling from the base of the hollow. At the deeper end there was a small outlet that carried the overflow into underground regions. Thus the pool was in reality running water, always fresh. It was an important discovery as good water was of the highest value, and a stationary pond might become stagnant or dry up in the sun.

“Good for you,” said the Panther, when Ned announced his discovery. “I never stayed here long enough before to look about much. Now I think we’d better see if there’s any way of gettin’ out ’stead of the one by which we come in. It would be of use if the impossible was to happen, an’ we was treed here, so to speak, by Mexicans.”

The path by which they had come was not more than a foot broad and very steep, and at the opposite side of the crater they made with the help of their hatchets another, up which the horses might be dragged in an emergency.

The hatchets which all the men carried in accordance with western custom were strong, heavy weapons, and they began at once the building of lean-to shelters, a work which they did with amazing dexterity. Some gathered in the woods above great slabs of bark from oak and other trees. Some cut poles, and they made cabins which would keep out rain, and which with the natural shelter of the crater might even defy a norther. They also made floors of bark, and on the second day they put in wooden pegs and hooks upon which to hang superfluous garments or other articles.

The crater would furnish pasturage for the horses for some days to come, and in the hills beyond they saw two or three fine meadows which would serve later. On the whole they found much that was pleasant in their situation, and, on the third night, their cabins received the necessary test. Ned had noticed a falling temperature in the afternoon, and, by twilight, heavy black clouds covered the whole sky. A cold wind blew, and rain pattered on the leaves and grass.

They had built five cabins, two men to a cabin, and Ned and Will retreated to the one which they shared. There was no door, only an opening large enough to admit them, and two smaller openings for windows. They spread their blankets on either side on the bark floor, and sitting down now, Turkish fashion, listened to the rain and wind.

“We didn’t build our mansions any too soon,” said Ned. “Hark how the storm drives!”

“I hear it,” said Will, “and it’s all right if these same mansions will stand on their feet through it all. Do you think our house is rocking, Ned?”

“Not a rock. It does not even shiver. As we are sunk in the crater here I think that most of the wind passes far over the top of the cabin. The storm must be at its height. Hear it whistle!”

“If the cabin stands this, and it’s standing it, it can stand anything,” said Will. “Now, I’m about to show my confidence by going to sleep. I’ve worked hard all day, and I’m tired.”

He lay down between the blankets and soon slumbered. Ned watched a while longer through the passage that served as a doorway. He saw the rain driving past, and now and then the wind roared as well as whistled. But the little cabin, though only of bark and poles, was staunch and firm. The roof shed the rain, too, and not a drop fell inside. It was pitchy dark without and no sound came from the other cabins. Ned judged that all were asleep except himself, and taking to his blankets he quickly followed them.

When he awoke the next morning the storm had passed, and the day was shining. Beads of rain twinkled on the grass, and the pool was a little higher than usual. All the cabins had stood firm and the horses had found shelter in a cove under thick overhanging boughs. The camp had survived every test, and the little force of Texans felt highly pleased with itself.

“We’ll stay,” said the Panther in sanguine tones, “an’ from this place we’ll hang on the Mexican flank an’ sting it good an’ hard. What do you fellows think we ought to call our home fort?”

“Camp Independence,” replied Ned, and all the others promptly endorsed the name, though Deaf Smith added:

“We’ll say the crater now and then for short!”

Then they consulted about food. Their traveling rations would end that day, and if they carried on extended operations they must have a considerable supply of provisions ready at any time.

“The woods must be full of game,” said Smith. “It would be here, anyhow, and since all the people have been run out of the country it must have increased. At any rate, we’ll go out and see.”

The Panther, Smith, Karnes and Ned formed the first hunting party, and with a caution to beware of Mexicans they left the crater intending to go toward the south. A score of steps from the edge of Camp Independence and Ned looked back. He could not see a trace of the crater. The dense foliage and undergrowth hid everything.

“It would surely be hard to find if you didn’t know it was there,” he said.

“You couldn’t find it at all if somebody or some-thin’ didn’t lead you to it,” said the Panther. “We’ll have to take close notice ourselves to make our way back. But now for the game. It’s not early enough in the morning, I reckon, to find the turkeys roosting in the trees, but we may run across a deer.”

They walked several miles southward, but started no deer. The forest, save for a little meadow now and then, remained dense, affording a fine covert for the larger animals, but it seemed that luck did not intend to favor them. They came about noon to a big rock standing in a small open place, and the Panther suggested that the four separate, going in different directions, but returning in about three hours to the big rock, where they could make further plans if they were still unsuccessful.

Ned’s course lay straight south, and he went forward carefully, eager to be the first who should find the needed prize. Unless they secured a good supply of food they could not, of course, keep the camp in the crater, and Ned, in common with the others, was most anxious that it should remain their base.

He went forward for a long time, carefully examining the ground everywhere for the trail of some big animal. It was a splendid forest, perhaps the finest in all that part of the country, and the density of trees and undergrowth did not decrease as he advanced. Now and then he heard squirrels chattering in the boughs overhead, but they were too small game, and he still looked hopefully for deer.

He came to a fine creek, deep enough for fish, and he knew that in time he and his friends could rig tackle and draw upon its waters for supplies, but it was not available at the moment. He waded it, and midstream the water came almost to his waist. Then he went on, and brought his mind back to the larger game that he sought.

There was a whirr among the tall trees and a magnificent flock of wild turkeys flew away, bearing westward. Ned raised his rifle, but it was too late, he could not get a shot. Then he rushed after them, knowing that the turkey was not a bird of long flight. Once he came almost within range as they alighted on the boughs of a cypress, but they fled once more and although he followed for a time he could not find them.

He was compelled to stop, hot and disappointed and panting from exertion. It was very bitter to him to come so near to such fine game and then to lose it. The Panther, Smith and Karnes would not upbraid him, but they might think him a poor hunter, nevertheless, to lose such a chance. But Ned had the courage, energy and perseverance of which success is made. As soon as he rested a little he resumed the search, bringing into play every detail of woodcraft that he had learned. Once when he came to a place where the forest was thinned he saw tracks that he believed to have been made by a deer and he followed them a while, but they were evidently cold as he roused nothing.

He returned to his main course, and the forest grew thicker again. As he entered a dense clump of bushes he heard a growl and the sound of a startled leap, and a clumsy dark figure whisked itself away. Ned caught only one glimpse but he saw that it was a black bear, already fat in that southern latitude. His rifle leaped to his shoulder and he was about to pull the trigger, but there was nothing to sight at. The bear was gone, swallowed up among the bushes.

Ned lowered his weapon with a cry of vexation, and ran forward on the trail of the fleeing animal. He could follow it for three or four hundred yards, but then he lost it. That bear had vanished as completely as if it had gone from this earth. He hunted angrily for the trail, spending a full ten minutes on the search, and then returned to his main course once more.

He sat down on a fallen log and raged at himself. He ought to have got a shot at the bear. He should have been quick enough. The Panther and Deaf Smith and Karnes would have done it. It was a fine bear, a young bear, a fat bear, and the meat of bear was good. What a savory odor it would have given out, frying in strips over the coals! He was stung by a powerful feeling of hunger.

He recalled his courage and energy once more. He would not be beaten. Two brilliant opportunities had been presented to him and he had missed them, both, but he would not give up. A third chance might come. He rested a little while and then pressed forward, still eagerly examining the earth for traces of what he sought. His muscles felt a little stiff and sore from so much running and walking, but the soreness of his spirit was greater. Yet he compelled himself to hope anew for success.

It was now warm within the forest, or at least it felt so to Ned, who had been suffering such severe tests of body and soul. He wiped the perspiration from his face, and devoutly hoped that the blessed third chance would come very soon. He resolutely crushed the persistent thoughts of bear and turkey, and presently he saw a faint glimmer of silver through the trees. He knew that it was made by the water of another stream, but smaller than the creek, probably a mere brook. He hurried a little, as he had become thirsty and the sight of water drew him.

As he approached he caught a glimpse of a grayish shoulder, and an animal drinking at the stream, uttering a startled snort, made a mighty leap for the woods. Ned saw that it was a deer, and to his excited eyes it was the finest and fattest of its kind that ever roamed the wilderness. The animal, pausing a moment after its first wild leap, presented a good target, and Ned was about to seize the opportunity. But he was standing among thick bushes, and when he started to raise his rifle the barrel caught in one of them. Before he could discharge it the deer was gone, flitting away like a shadow.

Ned did not even pursue. But he was so angry with himself that his heart pounded as if beating a song of ire. His third chance had come and it had been a fair one The deer had stood still for a moment, long enough for a good marksman to send the mortal bullet. He had not done it, but any of the other three would have succeeded. How awkward of him to have let his rifle become entangled at the moment of all moments! The gods had given him three chances and he had not profited by any of them. They would not give him any more. Three was an allowance full and overflowing.

When he sat down this time to rest he remained fully a quarter of an hour. It was his first intention to go back to the point of separation, report his failure when the others should come up, and stand it as best he could.

But fifteen minutes made a change. There was another reservoir of courage and tenacity which he had not yet tapped, and when he rose from the log he turned his face anew to the hunt. It was growing cooler now. The middle of the afternoon had passed, and in the east the blaze was not so brilliant. Ned felt a fresh access of strength, and he thrust his rifle forward with finger on hammer and trigger in order, that he might be ready in a second should the gods grant him yet a fourth chance.

He found nothing, the sun went further and further down the western arch, and the coolness increased in the forest. A light wind arose and the new green leaves sang together. Squirrels leaped about among the high boughs, and Ned fancied they were laughing at him. Once he raised his rifle for a shot at a little tormentor, but he became ashamed of himself and took the weapon down.

Then he saw before him a little prairie, in the center of which two large dark figures grazed. Ned’s heart almost stopped beating, so great was his joy and astonishment. The two big black forms were those of a bull and cow buffalo, wandered far east of their usual range, due no doubt to the abandonment of the country by the settlers.

The gods had indeed given him a fourth chance and one more magnificent than any of which he dreamed. Patience and courage had brought him within range of reward. No carelessness of his should lose it, because it was too much for a fifth to be granted. He crept with exceeding care to the edge of the forest, first noting that the wind was blowing from the animals toward him and could carry no human odor to their keen nostrils.

Both bull and cow grazed peacefully on, and Ned, raising his rifle, picked out a mortal spot on the cow. Despite every effort of the will his hand at first trembled a little. So much depended upon this last chance that the dreadful fear of failure lingered in his mind. But he steadied himself and pulled the trigger.

The crack of the rifle roared in his excited ears like the thunder of a cannon, and a film of white smoke floated before his eyes. He was in deadly fear lest he had missed the mortal spot and perspiration broke out all over him, but when his eyes cleared and the smoke was gone he saw the cow staggering. The bull, un-gallant animal, had already galloped away in fright. Now the cow began to run around in circles and Ned knew that she was done. In a minute or two she fell to the ground and lay quite still.

Ned strode forward, full of pride, and yet with a chastened sense also. He knew that he had won his triumph through sheer courage and persistence, and yet he had come perilously near to surrender. After every failure he had felt the temptation to give up, and after the third it had been almost overpowering.

The prize was indeed a splendid one, a young cow, fat and tender. Here were hundreds of pounds of juicy steaks, enough to last the whole group a long time, but it was too much for him to handle alone. He sent forth again and again the long cry of the wolf that the Panther had taught him, and then waited. After a while the whining cry which seemed to carry unmeasured distances returned to him. Then he knew that his friends had heard and would come. In a half hour they appeared at the edge of the prairie. Deaf Smith carried a wild turkey, but the others had nothing. Ned felt an uncontrollable sense of pride, because he, a boy, had done so much better than these three renowned and daring hunters combined.

The boy was sitting placidly on the body of the cow. Long shadows were already gathering from the western sun, and, the two at the edge of the forest could not see distinctly Ned’s splendid prize.

“What is it?” called out the Panther.

“Just you come here and see,” replied Ned, purposely making his tone indifferent. “I’ve shot a rabbit and it’s a fine one, too.”

“A rabbit,” came in disgusted tones from Smith, who was not yet clear of the bushes, “an’ you’ve been howlin’ for us to come just for a rabbit!”

“But it’s such a fine big one,” said Ned, “I thought you really ought to come and see it. I don’t believe you can find its like anywhere in Texas.”

The Panther, who could see Ned’s rabbit now, drew a long breath and called out to Smith.

“He’s right, Deaf. It’s the finest an’ biggest an’ fattest Jack rabbit that ever hopped over Texas. It made the mistake of wanderin’ over these plains an’ up to the muzzle of Ned’s rifle.”

Then Smith saw and he exclaimed in admiration:

“A buffalo, an’ a fat cow, too, by the Jumpin’ Jupiter! Who’d have thought it, this far from the range! Why, Ned, there’s enough here to feed us for two or three months! You’ve certainly been the handy boy this day!”

Ned received their congratulations proudly, but beneath the pride he had a little feeling of shame also. He did not tell them how near he had come to complete defeat. But he and the others now quickly turned to the need of securing their royal prize. Night was coming fast. Already the shadows had traveled from east to west and the sun was gone. They decided to make a camp where the cow had fallen and they quickly kindled a fire. Then the hunters, with the skill that comes only from long practice, deftly removed the skin, and with their hatchets quartered the body.

“Although it’s early spring, she is one of the finest and fattest I ever saw,” said the Panther. “We’ll hare to bring three of four horses to carry away our first capture of food, or rather, Ned’s.”

“I guess we’d better hang it up for the night in the edge of the woods,” said Smith. “It will make the wolves howl a lot, but we won’t mind that.”

They cut strong withes from the saplings and hung up the portions of the buffalo so high that no leaping animal could reach them. They took no rest and ate nothing until this laborious task was finished. Then they broiled the tenderest strips over the coals and ate long and heartily. By this time it was ten o’clock and very dark. Out of the forest from several points came the long mournful howl of wolves, turning from sadness to fierceness on its dying note.

Deaf Smith laughed low but heartily.

“Didn’t I tell you,” he said, “that the wolves would do a mighty howlin’ as soon as they smelt our buffalo. Sometimes I’m sorry for the wolf. It’s a terrible thing to be hungry all your life. I don’t suppose any wolf ever got enough to eat, an’ they have to go rangin’ ’roun’ over woods an’ prairies, snappin’ an’ snarlin’ an’ tryin’ to trail somethin’. Sometimes they have to turn cannibal, too, an’ I’d call that right unpleasant. Tryin’ the same thing on ourselves, I’d hate to have to eat the Panther.”

“You’d break all your teeth if you tried to eat me,” said the Panther complacently. “I’ve been knocked about so much by wind an’ weather, hard ridin’ an’ hard walkin’, hard huntin’ an’ hard fightin’ that sometimes I think even a wolf’s teeth would crack on me, though I don’t mean to give one the chance. Now, Ned, you tumble over there an’ go to sleep. Deaf an’ me an’ Hank will keep watch by turns.”

Ned was willing enough. He was very tired and his day had been full. He stretched himself in a soft place before the fire and slept soundly all through the night. Karnes soon followed him to slumberland, but Smith, who was to have the second watch, sat and talked a while with the Panther.

“I don’t ever believe in anything supernatural,” said Smith, “but it looks to me as if the killin’ of that buffalo was a good sign. Things are goin’ to turn for us Texans, an’ it seems as if Ned was a kind of flag bearer leadin’ us to the right places like one of them water witches, the fellers that walks along the ground, with little forked sticks in their hands until they come to a place where the stick just turns over of itself. Then the farmer digs there an’ finds water. Back in the States lots of wells have been located that way.”

The Panther glanced at Ned.

“I’m not what you’d call superstitious myself,” he said, “but you’re bound to believe in signs. If you see a band of Comanches in war paint on the plains, right close to you, ain’t it a sign for you to get away, now ain’t it, Deaf?”

“It shorely is,” replied Smith.

“An’ if I’ve been in a hundred Injun fights an’ lots of Mexican fights an’ have come out of all of ’em without a real hurt ain’t it a sign that I was intended to come out of them that way? Now I ask you, ain’t it such a sign, Deaf?”

“It shorely looks that way, Panther.”

“Now, just glance at that boy, Ned, lyin’ by the fire there! You an’ me an’ Hank, Deaf, are the best three hunters in all Texas. I ain’t sayin’ it as any boast, ’cause everybody knows it’s true, but just to lay the facts before you. We hunted hard ever since noon over good country, an’ we got nothin’ but one little old wild turkey. We was just about to give it up an’ go into camp, when this boy’s wolf howl called us. What do we find when we get here! He has killed the finest an’ tenderest buffalo cow I ever saw in my life—an’ I’ve seen a heap —here in this region, where there ain’t been any other buffalo for ten year. Ain’t that a sign of same kind, now I ask you, ain’t it, Deaf?”

“It’s p’intin’ that way, Panther.”

“An’ go back of that. Wasn’t he down there in the City of Mexico with Mr. Austin? Did the bars of a prison hold him? They didn’t. He starves hisself thin, cuts his long hair and slips right through. When there ain’t no other place to hide, the biggest Mexican church opens itself an’ takes him right into its bosom, an’ I say that with a mighty lot of reverence, too, Deaf. Then, when he gets hard up ag’in, good Mexicans help him. At last he is took by that black villain, Cos, and he is put in a dungeon under the sea at the castle of San Juan de Ulua. What happens? He is stuck in a cell right next to Obed White, who was a watchmaker, who can pick the biggest lock that was ever made. Obed finds the way out of the dungeons for them, and they discover a boat just waitin’ to take them to the mainland. Do you call that just chance? Ain’t it a sign, I ask you, Deaf, ain’t it a sign?”

“It keeps on p’intin’ straight that way.”

The fire crackled a little, the two big men stirred and gazed intently at the sleeping boy. From the forest the wolves sent their long howl, always with that fierce undernote. Around them the circling blackness crept up closer and closer to the dying fire.

“An’ that ain’t the half, Deaf,” resumed the Panther.

“A black jaguar, the biggest that ever growed in Mexico, is just reachin’ over to bite the boy’s head off with his long teeth, when Obed White shoots the heart out of that black jaguar just in time. Other people has escapes, one an’ maybe two, but Ned there has ’em all the time. Ned and Obed was treed by Mexicans an’ the most terrible storm that was ever heard of comes up ag’in just in the nick of time an’ scatters the Mexicans. Again they are driv into a corner by Lipans an’ the Texans comes just when they was about to go under. I tell you, Deaf, it wasn’t because Obed was there, it was because the boy was there. Ain’t them a powerful lot of signs? I ask you, Deaf, ain’t they?”

“It shorely looks like it to a man up a tree.”

“An’ biggest of all, Deaf, think of the Alamo! He was there in that pen o’ death. He was there with Crockett an’ Bowie an’ Travis, an’ all the rest of them that’s gone to the inside heaven reserved for the bravest of men, where they may be settin’ now with Hannibal an’ Julius Cæsar an’ Alfred the Great an’ George Washington. Did anybody else outlive the Alamo? No, it was just that boy, layin’ there at our feet. They say Davy Crockett sent him out on a false erran’ to save him. But who put that thought in Davy Crockett’s mind? An’ how was it that Santa Anna didn’t kill him, when he had him ag’in? The influence of Mr. Roylston’s name some might think, but I say you’ve got to look higher. It looks to me like signs on top o’ signs. I ask you, Deaf, ain’t it signs on top o’ signs?”

“’Pears to me them signs is pilin’ up mountain high, Panther.”

“An’ then he’s one of the prisoners at Goliad, when the Mexicans ag’in all good faith an’ human natur’, surround ’em with cannon an’ rifles an’ mow ’em down. But the cannon balls an’ shells turn aside from him. The rifle an’ musket bullets curve over his head an’ he comes through without a scratch. Now, Deaf, how can you account for all them escapes, one right after another, so many that you lose count of ’em? I know why they’ve happened. He’s chose, that boy there is chose. He’s our luck piece. The signs have piled up till they show it plain. He don’t know it hisself, any more than them water witches know where their power comes from, but he’s our herald, our flag bearer, an’ if we stick to him we’ll pull through. Don’t you go to savin’ it ain’t so, Deaf Smith.”

“Me! Me say that it ain’t so? I ain’t dreamin’ of sayin’ such a thing. I’m thinkin’ just like you, Panther. You can’t get away from it. It’s shorely a sign, an’ I’m goin’ to stick to that boy. People I reckon are sometimes set apart for particular things without themselves knowin’ it. They’re magic leaders, always pullin’ along the road to victory, an’ not knowin’ how they do it. We’ve jest got to keep Ned with us as a luck piece, Panther.”

“A luck piece an’ a magic leader, Deaf. I like that magic leader name best. It sounds strong an’ compellin’.”

“An’ there’s everything to it,” said Smith with deep conviction.

“It can’t be anything else,” said the Panther with conviction equally deep.

Absolute certainty shone from the eyes of both.

“Now you better go to sleep, Deaf,” said the Panther. “I’ll wake you when my time’s up, an’ Karnes’ turn will come last.”

Smith lay down and slept. The Panther sat alone by the dying fire, his rifle across his knees, a huge figure, dark and formidable. The wolves howled again in grief and anger, but they howled in vain. Then the last coal went out, the darkness swept over everything, and the Panther watched in silence.

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