In a moment, Crockett, much to his joy, perceived that it was his lost friend the juggler.  He was all engaged in practising his game of thimbles on the crown of his hat.  Crockett was now restored to his companion, and was near the plain road to Bexar.  In describing this scene and the departure of his kind Indian friends, the hunter writes: 

“The chief shouted the war-whoop, and suddenly the warriors came rushing in from all quarters, preceded by the old squaw trumpeters squalling like mad.  The conjurer sprang to his feet, and was ready to sink into the earth when he beheld the ferocious-looking fellows that surrounded him.  I stepped up, took him by the hand, and quieted his fears.  I told the chief that he was a friend of mine, and I was very glad to have found him, for I was afraid that he had perished.  I now thanked him for his kindness in guiding me over the prairies, and gave him a large bowie-knife, which he said he would keep for the sake of the brave hunter.  The whole squadron then wheeled off and I saw them no more.  I have met with many polite men in my time, but no one who possessed in a greater degree what may be called true spontaneous politeness than this Comanche chief, always excepting Philip Hone, Esq. of New York, whom I look upon as the politest man I ever did see; for when he asked me to take a drink at his own sideboard, he turned his back upon me, that I mightn’t be ashamed to fill as much as I wanted.  That was what I call doing the fair thing.”

The poor juggler was quite overjoyed in meeting his friend again, whom he evidently regarded with much reverence.  He said that he was very much alarmed when he found himself alone on the pathless prairie.  After waiting two hours in much anxiety, he mounted his mustang, and was slowly retracing his steps, when he spied the bee-hunter returning.  He was laden with honey.  They had then journeyed on together to the present spot.  The hunter had just gone out in search of game.  He soon returned with a plump turkey upon his shoulders.  They built their fire, and were joyously cooking their supper, when the neighing of a horse near by startled them.  Looking up, they saw two men approaching on horseback.  They proved to be the old pirate and the young Indian with whom they had lodged a few nights before.  Upon being hailed they alighted, and politely requested permission to join their party.  This was gladly assented to, as they were now entering a region desolated by the war between the Texans and the Mexicans, and where many small bands of robbers were wandering, ready to plunder any weaker party they might encounter.

The next morning they crossed the river and pushed on for the fortress of Alamo.  When within about twenty miles of San Antonio, they beheld about fifteen mounted men, well armed, approaching them at full speed.  Crockett’s party numbered five.  They immediately dismounted, made a rampart of their horses, and with the muzzles of their rifles pointed toward the approaching foe, were prepared for battle.