"The fort 'll keep till we git back," remarked Crockett; "but if I don't git out of it and shoot something I shall spile."
There were very good military reasons for precisely such an errand of inquiry. The vicinity of prowling savages was pretty well known, and it was desirable to learn as much more as possible.
The party from the fort rode out, therefore, and they were well upon their way, but they were not near enough to hear the whoops of Great Bear's warriors nor the cracking of the first rifles which replied.
There had been a steady onward march of Bowie's men, without any other change in the situation than an increase in the number of their enemies.
"Boys," the colonel said, "we've gained about a mile and a half, but they're closing in on us a little. Let 'em have a pill first chance you get. Halt!"
There they stood, their rifles levelled across the saddles. It was hardly worth while to waste their small stock of powder upon swiftly careering horsemen, although now these were frequently within range.
"I'll take that drove," exclaimed Jim, as several of the whoopers wheeled into a closely gathered group.
"Got him!" he shouted, as his rifle cracked.
"One more," added Bowie. "Hold your fire, men. It won't do to have too many guns empty at one time."
The backs of two mustangs were empty, however, and the yells which followed were those of angry braves who had been stung to rashness rather than intimidated. Of course, they all wheeled away at first, taking their dead comrades with them.