three rifles apiece, and they poured in a fast and
deadly fire. So many of the Mexicans fell that the remainder retreated
with speed, leaving the fallen behind them. But when the smoke lifted
others came forward under a white flag, and the Texans allowed them to
take away their dead.

The cannonade now became spasmodic. All the Mexican cannon would fire
continuously for a half hour or so, and then would ensue a silence of
perhaps an hour.

In the afternoon Bowie was taken very ill, owing to his great exertions,
and a bed was made for him in the hospital. Ned sat there with him a
while. The gentle mood that had distinguished the Georgian throughout
the siege was even more marked now.

"Ned," he said, "you ought to have gone out the other night when we
wanted you to go. Fannin may come to our help or he may not, but even if
he should come I don't think his force is sufficient. It would merely
increase the number of Texans in the trap."

"I've quite made up my mind that I won't go," said Ned.

"I'm sorry," said Bowie. "As for me, it's different. I'm a man of
violence, Ned. I don't deny it. There's human blood on my hands, and
some of it is that of my own countrymen. I've done things that I'd like
to call back, and so I'm glad to be here, one of a forlorn hope,
fighting for Texas. It's a sort of atonement, and if I fall I think it
will be remembered in my favor."

Ned was singularly impressed. Crockett had talked in much the same way.
Could these men, heroes of a thousand dangers, have really given up? Not
to give up in the sense of surrender, but to expect death fighting? But
for himself he could not believe such a thing possible. Youth was too
strong in him.

He was on the watch again for part of the next night, and he and
Crockett were together. They heard sounds made by the besiegers on every
side of them. Mexicans were calling to Mexicans. Bridle bits rattled,
and metal clanked against metal.

"I suppose the circle is complete," said Ned.

"Looks like it," said Crockett, "but we've got our cattle to eat an'
water to drink an' only a direct attack in force can take us. They can
bang away with their cannon till next Christmas an' they won't shake our
grip on the Alamo."

The night was fairly dark, and an hour later Ned heard a whistle.
Crockett heard it, too, and stiffened instantly into attention.

"Did that sound to you like a Mexican whistling?" he asked.

"No, I'd say it came from American lips, and I'