It would have been only a very sombre life-and-death affair to men of another kind, but these were hardly excited to any unusual feeling. They were in the daily habit of looking death in the face, and they could laugh at him. Nevertheless, during many minutes that followed, they and a changing group of rangers waited in the gate-way, listening silently to every sound that came to them from the hostile camps. A troop of horse went trampling by within a hundred yards of them and they heard the words of command. More minutes passed and the stillness seemed to increase. "We'd have heard something if the Greasers had sighted 'em," whispered one of the men. "They're not took yet----" "Hear that gun!" shouted Travis, the next instant. "That means something!" Another cannon sounded, and another, and then they heard the rapid reports of musketry from a score of points all along the lines. "Bad luck!" groaned a ranger. "They've got 'em!" said another. "It's good-by, Davy Crockett, I'm afraid," said Bowie, in a voice that was deep with emotion. "We ought not to have let him go." The expressions of regret for him and Carson were many and sincere, all around, but the cunning old bear hunter had been doing a remarkable piece of what passed with him for fun. Only about ten minutes before the first alarm gun sounded a pair of shadows had been gliding along on the ground, midway between the two camps that were nearest to the fort gate. "So far, so good," whispered one of them. "What's best to do next?" "Straight into the corral," was the reply. "I allers feel at hum among hosses. They're kind o' friendly. Besides, you've got to hev one to travel on." A very large number of them, of all sorts, had been picketed there, a short distance in the rear of the camps. They were guarded, of course, but they were entirely out of the supposable reach of Gringo thieves from the fort, and the guards were taking things easily. So were the quadrupeds, and not one of them was at all disturbed in his mind when two men who might belong to the same army slipped silently in among them. "No Greaser kin see through a hoss," remarked one of the adventurers, "but I'll tell you what, my boy, your tightest squeeze is goin' to be in gettin' out on the further side. They're guardin' thar rear more'n they are toward the fort. They're on the watch for anything Sam Houston may let loose on 'em." That was in strict accordance with the military prudences of the situation, but for that very reason all the guards on duty were looking out instead of looking in. No patrol, for instance, beyond the camps, whether mounted or on foot, could at once imagine anything suspicious concerning a dim shape slowly tramping out from the horse corral. Only one did come, and he walked along leading with him a saddled and bridled mustang. "Here comes the guard!" he suddenly exclaimed, aloud. "Now's my time. I'll signal to Davy."