Bowie called Ned up to his side, and had him to relate again all that he had seen and heard in Mexico.

“Mr. Austin is at the camp,” said Fannin, “and he has been asking about you.”

Ned’s heart thrilled.  There was a strong bond between him and the gentle, kindly man who strove so hard to serve both Texas and Mexico, and whom Santa Anna had long kept a prisoner for his pains.

“When will we reach the camp?” he asked Bowie.

“In less than a half hour.  See, the scouts have already sighted us.”

The scouts came up in a few moments, and then they drew near the camp.  Ned, eager of eye, observed everything.

The heart of the camp was in the center of a pecan grove, where a few tents for the leading men stood, but the Texans were spread all about in both groves and meadows, where they slept under the open sky.  They wore no uniforms.  All were in hunting suits of dressed deerskin or homespun, but they were well armed with the long rifles which they knew how to use with such wonderful skill.  They had no military tactics, but they invariably pressed in where the foe was thickest and the danger greatest.  They were gathered now in hundreds from all the Texas settlements to defend the homes that they had built in the wilderness, and Cos with his Mexican army did not dare to come out of San Antonio.

The Texans welcomed Bowie and his men with loud acclaim.  Ned and his comrades unsaddled, tethered their horses and lay down luxuriously in the grass.  Mr. Austin was busy in his tent at a conference of the leaders and Ned would wait until the afternoon to see him.  Obed suggested that they take a nap.

“In war eat when you can and sleep when you can,” he said.  “Sleep lost once is lost forever.”

“Obed has got some sense if he don’t look like it,” chuckled the Ring Tailed Panther.  “Here’s to followin’ his advice.”

Ned took it, too, and slept until the afternoon, when a messenger asked him to come to Mr. Austin’s tent, a large one, with the sides now open.  Obed was invited to come with him, and, as Ned stood in the door of the tent the mild, grave man advanced eagerly, a glow of pleasure and affection on his face.

“My boy! my boy!” he said, putting both hands on Ned’s shoulders.  “I was sure that I should never see you again, after you made your wonderful escape from our prison in Mexico.  But you are here in Texas none the worse, and they tell me you have passed through a very Odyssey of hardship and danger.”

Water stood in Ned’s eyes.  He rejoiced in the affection and esteem of this man, and yet Mr. Austin was very unlike the rest of the Texans.  They were rough riders; men of the plains always ready to fight, but he, cultivated and scholarly, was for peace and soft words.  He had used his methods, and they had failed, inuring only to the advantage of Santa Anna and Mexico.  He had failed most honorably, but he looked very much worn and depressed.  He was now heart and soul for the war, knowing that there was no other resort, but for battle he did not feel himself fitted.