Here he heard the cannon of Santa Anna
still thundering, but the walls softened the sound somewhat and made it
seem much more distant. In a way it was soothing and Ned, although sure
that he could not sleep, slept. All that afternoon he was rocked into
deeper slumber by the continuous roar of the Mexican guns. Smoke floated
over the convent yard and through all the buildings, but it did not
disturb him. Now and then a flash of rifle fire came from the Texans on
the walls, but that did not disturb him, either.
Nature was paying its debt. The boy lying on his blankets breathed
deeply and regularly as he slept. The hours of the afternoon passed one
by one, and it was dark when he awoke. The fire of the cannon had now
ceased and two or three lights were burning in the hospital. Crockett
was already up, and with some of the other men was eating beefsteak at a
table.
"You said you'd try to sleep, Ned," he exclaimed, "an' you must have
made a big try, 'cause you snored so loud we couldn't hear Santa Anna's
cannon."
"Why, I'm sure I don't snore, Mr. Crockett," said Ned, red in the face.
"No, you don't snore, I'll take that back," said Davy Crockett, when the
laugh subsided, "but I never saw a young man sleep more beautifully an'
skillfully.
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