t you to tell him
what you've told us."

They began now to see signs of settlements in the river bottoms where
the forests grew. There were stray little log cabins, almost hidden
among the oaks and pecans. Women and children came forth to see the
riders go by. The women were tanned like the men, and often they, too,
were clothed in buckskin. The children, bare of foot and head, seemed
half wild, but all, despite the sun, had the features of the Northern
races.

Ned could not keep from waving his hand to them. These were his people,
and he was thankful that he should have so large a part in the attempt
to save them. But he only had fleeting glimpses because they rode very
fast now. He was going to Sam Houston, famous throughout all the
Southwest, and Houston was at one of the little new settlements some
distance away. He would tell his story again, but he knew that the
Texans were already gathering. The messengers detached from the group
had now carried the alarm to many a cabin.

Several times at night they saw points of fire on the horizon and they
would pause to look at them.

"That's the Texans signaling to one another," said "Deaf" Smith.
"They're passing the word westward. They're calling in the buffalo
hunters and those who went out to fight the Comanches and Lipans."

Ned had alternations of hope and despondency. He saw anew how few the
Texans were. Their numbers could be counted only in thousands, while the
Mexicans had millions. Moreover, the tiny settlements were scattered
widely. Could such a thin force make a successful defense against the
armies of Cos and Santa Anna? But after every moment of despair, the
rebound came, and he saw that the spirit of the people was indomitable.

At last, they rode into a straggling little village by the side of a
wide and shallow river. All the houses were built of logs or rough
boards, and Ned and his companions dismounted before the largest. They
had already learned that Sam Houston was inside. Ned felt intense
curiosity as they approached. He knew the history of Houston, his
singular and picturesque career, and the great esteem in which he was
held by the Texans. A man with a rifle on his shoulder stood by the door
as guard, but he recognized Smith and Karnes, and held the door open for
the four, who went inside without a word.

Several men, talking earnestly were sitting in cane-bottomed chairs, and
Ned, although he had never seen him before, knew at once which w