"You're mistaken thar," exclaimed Crockett. "If his Greasers could fight as well as they kin walk, we'd be gone up sure!"
The next duties related to the unloading of the wagons and to all the information that could be obtained from the new men. Even while Travis was talking with them, however, an hour or so later, a hand touched his arm, and he turned to look into the face of Castro.
"What is it, chief?" he asked.
"Close gate," said Castro. "Load big gun. Lancer! Bring pony in."
"They mean to make a dash for our corral, do they?" replied Travis, and orders for the care of the horses of the garrison went out at once.
It would not do to lose them all just now, and they, at least, would have abundant rations within the enclosure. One of the best of them was turned over to Castro in place of his used-up pony, and another as good was given to Red Wolf.
While this was going on, Bowie had been busy with the spare rifles that had just arrived, and now he made his appearance, carrying two weapons that were more ornamental than the rest, for both were silver mounted.
"Travis," he said, "this is for the chief, and this is the one I promised Red Wolf."
"They've earned 'em," exclaimed Crockett. "Give 'em a first-rate outfit. Hope they'll kill a grist of Greasers."
Colonel Travis himself presented the rifles, but his words were few. Castro took his own and examined it all over.