"We are!" said Bowie, with almost an appearance of enthusiasm. "We'll set out as soon as Texas is clear of Santa Anna." "That's it," said Joe; "but you see, as soon as he's well whipped the coast 'll be clearer than it ever was before." On they pushed, and Red Wolf rode in the advance as a kind of guide. Part of the time he was hidden from his white friends by the crooks and turns of the path by which he was leading them, and now and then he had to ride back to indicate the right way. "It takes a redskin," they said more than once, "and he's jest the reddest Indian there ever was." That was so, for the sun had not appeared to have any power over the peculiar tint of his skin, but all the while he had seemed to be growing older. If he had been a boy when he joined them at the Alamo, Red Wolf was now a warrior, tested by the emergencies of a very uncommon "war-path." The hours went swiftly by and there was no haste to be made. "Go slow," had been the repeated injunction of Bowie. "The main thing is to get there." It must have been about noon when Red Wolf came riding back with a hand lifted in warning. "What is it?" asked Bowie. "Ugh!" he said. "Great Bear in bushes. Heap Comanche. Big Knife heap snake." He wheeled his mustang to the right and they followed him. "It's awful!" exclaimed Cheyne. "Colonel, the Comanches have joined the Mexicans. What about the Lipans?" "Fighting the Comanches," responded Bowie. "The trouble is that they seem to be expecting us. If we can ride around 'em, though, we'll get in." "All right," said Jim, "but things are looking a little squally. I'd like to give 'em a shot or two." "Not a shot if we can help it," said Bowie. "Wait till I show you something. It's only a short ride now." It was much longer because of the detour, and Red Wolf was now once more out of sight. "What's that?" exclaimed Bowie. "What on earth made him whoop? They've got him! Gallop, men! Save him if we can!" They went forward at a swifter gait, but there was no saving to be done. They were already nearer than they had supposed to the pond and the ruins. The young Lipan had pressed on also, with a pretty clear idea in his head. He had even ridden to the border of the open, and had been looking out and around it searchingly. "Ugh!" he said, "Great Bear no come!" "Ugh!" exclaimed a deep voice from a thicket near him. "Castro!" "Whoo-oo-oop!" burst from the lips of Red Wolf, and he wheeled his pony right into the thicket. "Castro!" He could not have held in that burst of surprise and joy, nor could the chief himself have done otherwise than to come out from his hiding-place with a great bound. Swift, indeed, were the explanations which were exchanged. Only a brief outline could be given by Red Wolf of his wonderful campaign in Mexico. The particulars would have to wait. Castro himself could do but little better at that moment. "Tetzcatl heap liar!" contained the root of the matter.