In the dawn of that very morning a cloud of wild horsemen had gathered upon the open prairie between the sink-hole and the grove where the little party of Colonel Bowie was believed to be still encamped. That from it came no sign of life was of no importance whatever to warriors who knew how perfectly the rangers were skilled in all the cunning of bush and forest fighting.
A mist had covered the rolls and the hollows, but the smoke of the camp-fire could be seen. Once a log fell, sending up a shower of sparks, and Great Bear himself remarked that Big Knife's men were putting on more wood. He now had with him the greater part of his force, but every pony was tired, and some of them had given out entirely.
There was no special reason for haste, excepting the water of the spring for men and beasts. Perhaps the better way would be to obtain a parley and induce the Texans to come out of their ambush before slaughtering them. A little cunning might accomplish that, and so the Comanches waited.
Of course, the grove was surrounded to prevent any sudden dash for escape, but shortly after the rising sun began his work upon the mist the encircling force moved slowly nearer. The main body moved together until they were about a hundred yards from the outer shrubbery. Then they halted, and a single brave, a chief of rank, dismounted and went forward on foot, holding out his right hand with the palm up, in token of a wish for truce and conference.
The eyes of his band were upon the messenger and he walked steadily, although all the while believing himself to be covered by the unerring aim of Texan sharp-shooters. His nerves were very good. No sooner, however, did he reach the trees than Great Bear and his column moved forward again.
On strode the solitary herald of peace, or of treachery, but no rifle cracked, no mustang neighed, no Texan came out of a bush. It was the strangest affair, to the mind of a man who was absolutely sure that his enemies were there.
On he marched until he stood by the fire at the spring, and glanced fiercely around him. It was too much! His hand went to his mouth, and he uttered a whoop which brought every Comanche within hearing pell-mell toward the grove.
Such a rush would have been their best chance for crushing Bowie's men in any case, but the charging warriors found no Texans to crush. Wild were the whoops of wrath and disappointment, but Great Bear himself was equal to the occasion. His face expressed strong admiration of such a feat of generalship, and he said, loudly,—
"Ugh! Big Knife great chief! Getaway heap! Comanche tired now. Find Texan by and by."
There was no help for it. The only thing to do was to rest and to eat, for immediate pursuit was out of the question.