Needless to say the boys warmly assured him that he’d be of the greatest help to them.
“With you to post us on what to do,” said Walter, “we’ll have no trouble at all in the new country.”
Crockett smiled.
“Well, you know,” said he, “I’ve had no experience there myself.”
“But you’ve been in places that were pretty similar,” said Walter. “It’ll not be new to you.”
The boys were in high feather all the way down the river; any fear they might have had of Huntley and his friends left them; with so noted a fighting man as Davy Crockett as a companion, they felt that they were safe from the attempts of even the most hardy.
Huntley and his comrades seemed also to feel something of this; the lads now rarely saw them on deck; they kept themselves close, and did nothing to interfere with the young travelers, neither in look, word, nor act.
“But, somehow,” observed Ned Chandler, “I can’t think that they’ve forgotten us.”
“They haven’t,” replied Walter. “They are keeping us in mind, right enough. Only from now on they are going to be less open in what they do.”
Steadily upon her course down the broad, yellow Mississippi steamed the “Mediterranean.” She stopped at many places to take on or put off cargo or passengers; and Crockett, so it seemed, was constantly meeting old friends and making speeches to gatherings which came together to cheer him at wharves and landing places. The whole country, so it seemed as they got further south, was aflame at the idea of Texas and Mexico engaging in a conflict. And that such a popular and picturesque personage as Crockett should be on his way to take part in the struggle greatly added to the excitement.