im on the parapet, and ran his hand lovingly along the barrel of
Betsy, as one strokes the head of a child.

"Do you want some more rifles, Davy?" asked Bowie.

"Jest about a half dozen," replied Crockett. "I think I can use that
many before they clear out."

Six of the long-barreled Texan rifles were laid at Crockett's feet. Ned
watched with absorbed interest. Crockett's eye was on the nearest
battery and he was slowly raising Betsy.

"Which is to be first, Davy?" asked Bowie.

"The one with the rammer in his hand."

Crockett took a single brief look down the sights and pulled the
trigger. The man with the rammer dropped to the earth and the rammer
fell beside him. He lay quite still. Crockett seized a second rifle and
fired. A loader fell and he also lay still. A third rifle shot, almost
as quick as a flash, and a gunner went down, a fourth and a man at a
wheel fell, a fifth and the unerring bullet claimed a sponger, a sixth
and a Mexican just springing to cover was wounded in the shoulder. Then
Crockett remained with the seventh rifle still loaded in his hands, as
there was nothing to shoot at, all the Mexicans now being hidden.

But Crockett, kneeling on the parapet, the rifle cocked and his finger
on the trigger, watched in case any of the Mexicans should expose
himself again. He presented to Ned the simile of some powerful animal
about to spring. The lean, muscular figure was poised for instant
action, and all the whimsicality and humor were gone from the eyes of
the sharpshooter.

A mighty shout of triumph burst from the Texans. Many a good marksman
was there, but never before had they seen such shooting. The great
reputation of Davy Crockett, universal in the southwest, was justified
fully. The crew of the gun had been annihilated in less than a minute.

For a while there was silence. Then the Mexicans, protected by the
earthwork that they had thrown up, drew the battery back a hundred
yards. Even in the farther batteries the men were very careful about
exposing themselves. The Texans, seeing no sure target, held their fire.
The Mexicans opened a new cannonade and for another half hour the roar
of the great guns drowned all other sounds. But when it ceased and the
smoke drifted away the Texans were still unharmed.

Ned was now by the side of Bowie, who showed great satisfaction.

"What will they do next?" asked Ned.

"I don't know, but you see now that it's not the biggest noise that
hurts the most