"After all that's been done to our people," said the Panther, "I feel
like rippin' an' r'arin' an' chawin' the rest of my life."
"We'll have the chance to do all of it we want, judgin' from the way
things are goin'," said "Deaf" Smith.
Then they relapsed into silence, and rode on through the timber, going
slowly as they were compelled to pick their way in the underbrush. It
was now nearly noon, and a brilliant sun shone overhead, but the foliage
of young spring was heavy on trees and bushes, and it gave them at the
same time shade and shelter.
As they rode they watched everywhere for a trail. If either Texans or
Mexicans had passed they wanted to know why, and when. They came at last
to hoofprints in the soft bank of the river, indicating that
horses--undoubtedly with men on their backs--had crossed here. The
skilled trailers calculated the number at more than fifteen, perhaps
more than twenty, and they followed their path across the timber and out
upon the prairie.
When the hoofprints were more clearly discernible in the grass they saw
that they had been made by unshod feet, and they were mystified, but
they followed cautiously or, for two or three miles, when "Deaf" Smith
saw something gleaming by the track.
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