This could not last long.  The wild steed of the prairie soon outstripped the heavily burdened mustang, and shooting ahead, kicked up his heels as in derision.  The rest of the herd followed, in the same disrespectful manner.  Crockett jogged quietly on in the rear, glad to be rid of such troublesome and dangerous companions.  The horses soon reached a stream, which Crockett afterward learned was called the Navasola River.  The whole herd, following an adventurous leader, rushed pell-mell into the stream and swam to the other side.  It was a beautiful sight to behold these splendid animals, in such a dense throng, crossing the stream, and then, refreshed by their bath, sweeping like a whirlwind over the plain beyond.

Crockett’s exhausted pony could go no further.  He fairly threw himself upon the ground as if in despair.  Crockett took from the exhausted animal the saddle, and left the poor creature to roll upon the grass and graze at pleasure.  He thought it not possible that the mustang could wander to any considerable distance.  Indeed, he fully expected to find the utterly exhausted beast, who could no longer stand upon his legs, dead before morning.

Night was fast closing around him.  He began to look around for shelter.  There was a large tree blown down by the side of the stream, its top branching out very thick and bushy.  Crockett thought that with his knife, in the midst of that dense foliage with its interlacing branches, he could make himself a snug arbor, where, wrapped in his blanket, he could enjoy refreshing sleep.  He approached the tree, and began to work among the almost impervious branches, when he heard a low growl, which he says he interpreted to mean, “Stranger, these apartments are already taken.”

Looking about to see what kind of an animal he had disturbed, and whose displeasure he had manifestly encountered, he saw the brilliant eyes glaring through the leaves of a large Mexican cougar, sometimes called the panther or American lion.  This animal, endowed with marvellous agility and strength, will pounce from his lair on a deer, and even a buffalo, and easily with tooth and claw tear him to pieces.

“He was not more than five or six paces from me,” writes Crockett, “and was eying me as an epicure surveys the table before he selects his dish, I have no doubt the cougar looked upon me as the subject of a future supper.  Rays of light darted from his large eyes, he showed his teeth like a negro in hysterics, and he was crouching on his haunches ready for a spring; all of which convinced me that unless I was pretty quick upon the trigger, posterity would know little of the termination of my eventful career, and it would be far less glorious and useful than I intend to make it.”

The conflict which ensued cannot be more graphically described than in Crocket’s own words: