"
"I guess you've heard enough tales from an old fellow like me," said
Crockett. "At least you won't have time to hear any more 'cause the
Mexicans must be moving out there. Do you hear anything, Ned?"
"Nothing but a little wind."
"Then my ears must be deceivin' me. I've used 'em such a long time that
I guess they feel they've got a right to trick me once in a while."
But Ned was thinking just then of the great city which he wanted to see
some day as Crockett had seen it. But it seemed to him at that moment as
far away as the moon. Would his comrades and he ever escape from those
walls?
His mind came back with a jerk. He did hear something on the plain.
Crockett was right. He heard the tread of horses and the sound of wheels
moving. He called the attention of Crockett to the noises.
"I think I know what causes them," said Crockett. "Santa Anna is
planting his battery under the cover of the night an' I don't see, boys,
how we're goin' to keep him from doin' it."
The best of the Texan sharpshooters lined the walls, and they fired
occasionally at indistinct and flitting figures, but they were quite
certain that they did no execution. The darkness was too great.
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