A Texan instantly pulled trigger at
the base of the smoke, and oftener than not the bullet hit his dusky
foe.
This new duel in the dark went on for two hours. The Indians could fire
at the mass in the hollow, while the Texans steadily picked out their
more difficult targets. The frightened oxen uttered terrified lowings
and the Indians, now and then aiming at the sounds, killed or wounded
more of the animals. The Texans themselves slew those that were wounded,
unwilling to see them suffer so much.
The skill of the Texans with the rifle was so great that gradually they
prevailed over the Indians a second time in the trial of sharpshooting.
The warriors were driven back on the Mexican cavalry, and abandoned the
combat. The night was much darker than usual, and a heavy fog, rising
from the plain, added to its density and dampness. The skies were
invisible, hidden by heavy masses of floating clouds and fog.
Ned saw a circle of lights spring up around them. They were the camp
fires of the Mexican army, and he knew that the troops were comfortable
there before the blaze. His heart filled with bitterness. He had
expected so much of Fannin's men, and Crockett and Bowie before him had
expected so much! Yet here they were, beleaguered as the Texans had been
beleaguered in the Alamo, and there were no walls behind which they
could fight.
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