The last pair of wheels was in the gate-way when galloping past them came a half-naked rider. "Whoop!" he yelled. "Red Wolf want Big Knife. Castro horse dead. Santa Anna come!" "All right!" called out Travis. "Come this way. Bowie, bring him in. Men, go on unloading. Tally all there is." Down from his panting pony dropped the young Lipan, and his eager report required few questions to make it clear. Either his father had not been so well mounted or else he had been too heavy a weight for a long race. His horse had given out entirely a few miles from the fort, and Red Wolf had ridden on alone. All the officers of the rangers had gathered to hear, and when the report was completed they looked at each other with serious faces. "It's just about as we expected, after all," said Travis. "I'm glad there are no Comanches with them. If Castro is right, there are over five thousand of them. A thousand more or less won't make much difference. They're about four days' march from us, I should say, but the lancers could get here sooner. Most likely they will." A rugged-looking ranger stood before him, touching a ragged hat-brim. "Well, Sergeant Daly," said Travis, "how do you find the cargo?" "Bully, far as it goes!" responded the sergeant. "I reckon it gives us rations for about two weeks. Pretty good lot of rifle powder. Not so much cannon powder and grape-shot as we'd ought to have. No solid shot to speak of, but there's some. Forty spare rifles, and I wish we had men for 'em. But these yer new men are all prime fellers, and we can foot up one hundred and forty good shots, all told." "We ought to have at least three times as many," said Travis. "Every man is worth his weight in gold just now." "The trouble is," remarked Bowie, "Houston hasn't had time yet to use those Spanish dollars. He will, though. What we must do is to try and hold the fort till Austin's riflemen get here. Every day 'll count. Santa Anna is a slow marcher." "You're mistaken thar," exclaimed Crockett. "If his Greasers could fight as well as they kin walk, we'd be gone up sure!" The next duties related to the unloading of the wagons and to all the information that could be obtained from the new men. Even while Travis was talking with them, however, an hour or so later, a hand touched his arm, and he turned to look into the face of Castro. "What is it, chief?" he asked. "Close gate," said Castro. "Load big gun. Lancer! Bring pony in." "They mean to make a dash for our corral, do they?" replied Travis, and orders for the care of the horses of the garrison went out at once. It would not do to lose them all just now, and they, at least, would have abundant rations within the enclosure. One of the best of them was turned over to Castro in place of his used-up pony, and another as good was given to Red Wolf.