The horse sank
on his side near him. He did not care for anything now except to secure
rest. Mexicans or Comanches or Lipans might be on the plain only a few
hundred yards away. It did not matter to him. He responded to no emotion
save the desire for rest, and in five minutes he was in a deep sleep.
Ned slept until long after daylight. He was so much exhausted that he
scarcely moved during all that time. Nor did the horse. Old Jack had run
his good race and won the victory, and he, too, cared for nothing but to
rest.
Before morning some Lipan buffalo hunters passed, but they took no
notice of the grove and soon disappeared in the west. After the dawn a
detachment of Mexican lancers riding to the east to join the force of
Santa Anna also passed the clump of trees, but the horse and man lay in
the densest part of it, and no pair of Mexican eyes was keen enough to
see them there. They were answering the call of Santa Anna, and they
rode on at a trot, the grove soon sinking out of sight behind them.
Ned was awakened at last by the sun shining in his face. He stirred,
recalled in a vague sort of way where he was and why he was there, and
then rose slowly to his feet. His joints were stiff like those of an old
man, and he rubbed them to acquire ease.
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