Chapter Fifty Two.
An Awakener.
Phelim’s second slumber was destined to endure for a more protracted term than his first. It was nearly noon when he awoke from it; and then only on receiving a bucket of cold water full in his face, that sobered him almost as quickly as the sight of the savages.
It was Zeb Stump who administered the douche.
After parting from the precincts of Casa del Corvo, the old hunter had taken the road, or rather trail, which he knew to be the most direct one leading to the head waters of the Nueces.
Without staying to notice tracks or other “sign,” he rode straight across the prairie, and into the avenue already mentioned.
Prom what Louise Poindexter had told him—from a knowledge of the people who composed the party of searchers—he knew that Maurice Gerald was in danger.
Hence his haste to reach the Alamo before them—coupled with caution to keep out of their way.