the diversion.

"Good! good!" cried Bowie, as they knocked out the last burning plank.

"That ends the fire," said Obed, "and now we've got a hole here which is
not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a barn door, but I do not think it
will suffice for our friends, the Comanches."

All the men turned their attention to the enemy, and, lying on the
ground, they took as good aim as the darkness would permit. The Texan
rifles cracked fast and, despite the darkness, the bullets often found
the chosen targets. The Comanches had been shouting the war whoop
continuously, but now their cries began to die, and their fire died with
it. Never a very good marksman, the Indian was no match for the Texans,
every one of whom was a sharpshooter, armed with a fine rifle of long
range.

The Texans also fired from the shelter of the building, and, as the
great cloud was now parting, letting through shafts from the moon, the
Comanches were unable to find good hiding in the weeds and grass. The
bullets pursued them there. No matter how low they lay the keen eye of
some Texan searched them out, and sent in the fatal or wounding bullet.
Soon they were driven to the shelter of the adobe wall, where they lay,
and for a little while returned a scattering fire which did no harm.
After it ceased no Comanche uttered a war whoop and there was silence
again, save for the rain which now trickled down softly.

Bowie distributed sentinels at the openings, including the new one made
by the fire, and then the Texans took count of themselves. They had not
escaped unscathed. One lying on the floor had received a bullet in his
head and had died in silence, unnoticed in the battle. Two men had
suffered wounds, but they were not severe, and would not keep them from
taking part in a renewal of the combat, should it come.

All this reckoning was made in the dusk of the old convent, and with the
weariness of both body and soul that comes after a period of great and
prolonged exertion. Within the two rooms that they had defended, the
odor of burned gunpowder was strong, stinging throat and nostrils.
Eddies of smoke hung between floor and ceiling. Many of the men coughed,
and it was long before they could reduce the horses to entire quiet.

They wrapped the dead man in his blankets and laid him in the corner.
They bound up the hurts of the others, as best they could and then, save
for the watching, they relaxed completely. Ned, his back against the
wall, sat