"Looks as if I'd have a lot of use for Old Betsy," said a whimsical
voice beside him. "Somebody said when I started away from Tennessee that
I'd have nothing to do with it, might as well leave my rifle at home.
But I 'low that Old Betsy is the most useful friend I could have just
now."
It was, of course, Davy Crockett who spoke. He was as cool as a cake of
ice. Old Betsy rested in the hollow of his arm, the long barrel
projecting several feet. His raccoon skin cap was on the back of his
head. His whole manner was that of one who was in the first stage of a
most interesting event. But as Ned was looking at him a light suddenly
leaped in the calm eye.
"Look there! look there!" said Davy Crockett, pointing a long finger.
"We'll need food in that Alamo place, an' behold it on the hoof!"
About forty cattle had been grazing on the plain. They had suddenly
gathered in a bunch, startled by the appearance of so many people, and
of galloping horsemen.
"We'll take 'em with us! We'll need 'em! Say we can do it, Colonel!"
shouted Crockett to Travis.
Travis nodded.
"Come on, Ned," cried Crockett, "an' come on the rest of you
fleet-footed fellows! Every mother's son of you has driv' the cows home
before in his time, an' now you kin do it again!"
A dozen swift Texans ran forward with shouts, Ned and Davy Crockett at
their head.
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