He asked the question of Travis, who nodded.  A picked band of Mexicans under General Castrillon were gathered in a mass and were rapidly fitting together the timbers of the houses to make the narrow bridge.  But the reach of the Texan rifles was great, and Davy Crockett was merely the king among so many sharpshooters.

The rifles began to flash and crack.  No man fired until he was sure of his aim, and no two picked the same target.  The Mexicans fell fast.  In five minutes thirty or forty were killed, some of them falling into the river, and the rest, dropping the timbers, fled with shouts of horror from the fatal spot.  General Castrillon, a brave man, sought to drive them back, but neither blows nor oaths availed.  Santa Anna himself came and made many threats, but the men would not stir.  They preferred punishment to the sure death that awaited them from the muzzles of the Texan rifles.

The light puffs of rifle smoke were quickly gone, and once more the town with the people watching on the flat roofs came into full view.  A wind burst out the folds of the red flag of no quarter on the tower of the church of San Fernando, but Ned paid no attention to it now.  He was watching for Santa Anna’s next move.

“That’s a bridge that will never be built,” said Davy Crockett. “’Live an’ learn’ is a good sayin’, I suppose, but a lot of them Mexicans neither lived nor learned.  It’s been a great day for ‘Betsy’ here.”

Travis, the commander, showed elation.

“I think Santa Anna will realize now,” he said, “that he has neither a promenade nor a picnic before him.  Oh, if we only had six or seven hundred men, instead of less than a hundred and fifty!”

“We must send for help,” said Bowie.  “The numbers of Santa Anna continually increase, but we are not yet entirely surrounded.  If the Texans know that we are beleaguered here they will come to our help.”

“I will send messengers to-morrow night,” said Travis.  “The Texans are much scattered, but it is likely that some will come.”

It was strange, but it was characteristic of them, nevertheless, that no one made any mention of escape.  Many could have stolen away in the night over the lower walls.  Perhaps all could have done so, but not a single Texan ever spoke of such a thing, and not one ever attempted it.

Santa Anna moved some of his batteries and also erected two new ones.  When the work on the latter was finished all opened in another tremendous cannonade, lasting for fully an hour.  The bank of smoke was heavier than ever, and the roaring in Ned’s ears was incessant, but he felt no awe now.  He was growing used to the cannon fire, and as it did so little harm he felt no apprehension.

While the fire was at its height he went down in the church and cleaned his rifle, although he took the precaution to remain in one of the covered rooms by the doorway.  Davy Crockett was also there busy with the same task.  Before they finished a cannon ball dropped on the floor, bounded against the wall and rebounded several times until it finally lay at rest.