beating hoofs and of cries. But one thing he saw clearly and never
forgot. It was the lame man with the thick white hair sitting with his
back against a tree calmly firing a rifle at the Mexicans. Roylston had
time for only two shots, but when he reloaded the second time he placed
the rifle across his knees as before and smiled.

Most Mexican troops would have been content with a single charge, but
these returned, encouraged by shouts and driven on by fierce commands.
Ned saw a figure waving a sword. He believed it to be Urrea, and he
fired, but he missed, and the next moment the horseman was lost in the
shadows.

The second charge was beaten back like the first, and several
skirmishers who tried to come anew down the bed of the creek were also
put to flight. Two Mexicans got into the thickets and tried to stampede
the horses, but the quickness of Obed and Fields defeated their aim. One
of the Mexicans fell there, but the other escaped in the darkness.

When the second charge was driven back and the horses were quieted the
Panther and Obed threshed up the woods, lest some Mexican musketeer
should lie hidden there.

Nobody slept any more that night. Ned, Will and the Panther kept a sharp
watch upon the bed of the creek, the moon and stars fortunately aiding
them. But the Mexicans did not venture again by that perilous road,
although toward morning they opened a scattering fire from the plain,
many of their bullets whistling at random among the trees and thickets.
Some of the Texans, crawling to the edge of the wood, replied, but they
seemed to have little chance for a good shot, as the Mexicans lay behind
a swell. The besiegers grew tired after a while and silence came again.