"One of the greatest that ever lived," said Phil. "There were more men, Billy, at that place we call Buena Vista than all the Comanche warriors put together several times over. And there were many cannon, great guns on wheels, shooting bullets as big as your head and bigger, and the battle went on all day. You couldn’t hear yourself speak, the cannon and rifles roared so terribly and without ever stopping, and the smoke was greater than that of the biggest prairie fire you ever saw, and thousands of men and horses, with long lances, charged again and again. And your father stood there all day helping to beat them back." Phil did not wish to speak so much of battle and danger, but he judged that this would appeal most to the boy, who had been taught by the Comanches that valor and fighting were the greatest of all things. The boy exclaimed: "My father is one of the greatest of all warriors! He is a chief! He and you and I and the other two of whom you speak will go with a great army and beat the Mexicans again!" Phil laughed and turned the talk more to the chase, the building of cabins in the wilderness, and of great explorations across the prairies and through the hills. He still held the interest of the boy, and Phil saw the soul of the white race growing stronger and stronger within him. Arenberg listened, too, and at last he understood. He gave his comrade a look of gratitude. That, Phil always considered one of the greatest rewards he ever received. They finally found a partial shelter in a ravine protected by trees, and here they dismounted in order to rest the horses and shake the snow from themselves. But they were not suffering from the snow. They were all warmly clad, and, as usual in the West in winter, Phil and Arenberg carried heavy blankets at their saddle horns. One of these had already been wrapped around Billy, and when they dismounted he remained clad in its folds. The fall of snow was lightening somewhat, enabling them to see perhaps twenty feet farther into it, but it was still a vast white gloom. "I think it will stop before morning," said Arenberg, "and then we can make much greater speed. Are you sleepy, Billy?" "I do not sleep when we are in danger," replied the boy. He spoke with such youthful pride that Phil smiled. Yet the boy meant it. His wild life had certainly harmed neither his spirit nor his body. He was taller and heavier than most boys of his age, and Phil could see that he was as wiry and sinewy as a young panther. He seemed to endure the hardships of the night quite as well as Phil or his father. "Snow is warm if there is something between you and it," said Phil. "Let’s scrape out a place here against the bank, throw up the snow around us in walls, and rest until daylight. It will be a little hard on the horses, but they seem to be doing fairly well there against the trees." "It iss wisdom that you speak," said Arenberg.