“Oh, they are caught, then, and broken!” said Ned, looking at the hardy little fellows as they tore away over the prairies like the wind, their tails flying like banners.
“Lots of Mexicans and some Americans make a business of it,” replied old Dolph. “Them two you boys are riding now once raced, wild, on these very plains.”
It took three days between Natchitoches and Nacogdoches; they camped by the side of the old trail at places where they could get water; the air was bracing, the game they shot during the day was dressed, cooked and eaten, and the lads enjoyed every moment of the time.
About sundown upon the third day they sighted Nacogdoches and were warmly greeted by the people of the town. Nacogdoches lay a day’s ride west of the Sabine River. At that time it had a population of about a thousand people; but as it was a trading place and a stopping point for the flow of northern emigration into Texas, there was usually two or three times that number upon its streets. There was an old French fort, built more than a hundred years before to guard against the attacks of the Indians.
But there were now Indians a-plenty in the town. All the tribes for many miles into the wilderness came there to trade, and on the evening of the arrival of the party under Davy Crockett there were scores of them to be seen in the streets. Their nodding eagle feathers, their fringed buckskin leggings and beaded moccasins, their quivers of arrows and their long bows and sheathed knives gave them a wild and savage look. There were also many Mexicans in Nacogdoches, and their picturesque costumes, huge, jingling spurs, great sombreros, and viciously careening horses, contrasted strongly with the red or blue shirts of the American adventurers, their long boots, and modern equipment of arms and horse gear. Also there were a number of men in the backwoods garb of Crockett and the boys. These stood in quiet places, as a rule, leaning on their long rifles and looking bewildered at the bustle all around them, so different from the solitude of their native forests.
“Rather a lively sort of a town,” said Crockett, after they had put up their mounts at the tavern and were about to go in to supper. “Didn’t expect to see anything quite so stirring, Dolph.”
“You’ll not see another for some time again,” said the old Texan. “This country is not given to towns of any size, though I dare say we’ll grow some as we go along.”
They had a good supper, a good night’s rest and an excellent breakfast at Nacogdoches; and then they took horse and started upon the long journey toward the San Antonio River and the seat of war.
“Take it easy, youngsters,” said old Dolph. “Don’t wear out yourselves or your ponies. You have a good bit of prairie to cross, and it’s not to be done in a hurry if you hope to keep yourselves in condition.”
At high noon the party stopped at a hurrying little stream that moved through a grove of tall trees. Here they rested and ate and drank. Away in the distance, across the level plains, could be seen a herd of grazing buffalo; and Crockett watched them, reclining upon his elbow.