But the men and three others who appeared near them pulled the trigger. Phil did not hear the ping of the bullets, and now he realized that they fired not at his comrades and himself but at those who pursued. A death-cry and yells of rage came from behind them, but in another minute they were within the line of sentinels and were springing from their horses, ready to take their part in the combat that they expected. All the morning mists were driven away at that moment by the sun, as if a veil had been lifted, and the whole plain stood out clear and distinct under a brilliant sky. Before them were the wagons, drawn up in a circle in the customary fashion of a camp, the horses and mules in the center, and the men, arms in hand, forming an outer ring for the wagons. But from the northeast and the southeast two lines were converging upon them, and Phil’s heart kindled at the sight. The line in the northeast was made up of red horsemen, four hundred Comanches, naked to the waist, horribly painted, and riding knee to knee, the redoubtable chiefs, Santana and Black Panther, at their head. The line in the southeast was composed of Mexican cavalry, lancers splendidly mounted, the blades of their lances and their embroidered jackets glittering in the sun. They made their horses prance and cavort, and many in the first rank whirled lariats in derision. A tall figure strolled forward and welcomed Middleton and his comrades. It was Woodfall, his face flushed somewhat, but his manner undaunted. "I’m glad to welcome you back, Mr. Middleton," he said, "and with your comrades, all of them alive and well. But what does this mean? Why do those men ride to attack, when this is the soil of Texas?" He waved his hand toward the advancing Mexican column. "They advance against us," replied Middleton, "because this is war, war between the United States and Mexico--we learned that last night from one of their own officers--and there have been two heavy battles on the Rio Grande, both victorious for us." It was not strange that a sudden cheer burst from the men who heard these words. Woodfall listened to it grimly, and, when it died, he said: "Then if these Mexicans attack, we’ll soon have a third victory to our credit. The Indian bow and the Mexican lance can’t break through a circle of riflemen, entrenched behind wagons--riflemen who know how to shoot."