They proceeded with the utmost caution, and they heard the faint ping of
the rifles a half dozen times as they advanced. The nostrils of the
Panther began to distend, and streaks of red appeared on his eyeballs.
He was smelling the battle afar, and his soul rejoiced. He had spent his
whole life amid scenes of danger, and this was nature to him. Crockett
rode up by his side, and he, too, listened eagerly. He no longer carried
Betsy over his shoulder but held the long rifle across the pommel of his
saddle, his hand upon hammer and trigger.

"What do you think it is, Panther?" he asked. Already he had fallen into
the easy familiarity of the frontier.

"I can't make it out yet," replied the Panther, "but them shots shorely
came from the cabin an' places about it. Our fellows are besieged, but
I've got to guess at the besiegers, an' then I'm likely to guess wrong."

They were riding very slowly, and presently they heard a dozen shots,
coming very clearly now.

"I think we'd better stop here," said the Panther, "an' do a little
scoutin'. If you like it, Mr. Crockett, you an' me an' Ned, here, will
dismount, slip forward an' see what's the trouble. Obed will take
Command of the others, an' wait in the bushes till we come back with the
news, whatever it is."

"I'll go with you gladly," said Davy Crockett. "I'm not lookin' for
trouble with a microscope, but if trouble gets right in my path I'm not
dodgin' it. So I say once more, lead on, noble Mr. Panther, an' if Betsy
here must talk she'll talk."