"Never mind now," replied Bowie. "Water the critters and picket them where they can bite grass, beyond the walls, or as near as you can. We could hold that middle adobe for a while, but we're in a pretty tight kind of box."
CHAPTER VII.
THE ESCAPE OF THE RANGERS.
"It won't do for us to hang around this place," was the substance of a number of remarks that were made by the riflemen as they cared for their horses and then followed their leader into the central building.
"Now, men," said Bowie, as they gathered around him, "the critters must have a good rest and a feed. We've run them hard. We'll get our rations right off."
All that was left of the deer began to go out of sight rapidly. Hunters like these were not apt to carry any considerable amount of provisions with them. It was not necessary in a region abounding with game. They were as independent as so many Indians, and every day's ride was expected to provide for its own evening camp-fire, with variations.
The fire blazed up; Tetzcatl and one of the men volunteered as cooks; the others were stationed here and there as outlooks, with a tendency to keep well under cover of the old walls. It may have been a willingness to be out of sight from the bushes that led the old Tlascalan to his duties at the fireside.
Red Wolf had all the while kept in the background, so to speak, but now, at last, he found an opportunity he had been waiting for.
"Big Knife great chief," he said to the colonel. "Red Wolf heap boy. Want talk."