man, but the juggler, who had followed me, handed me his rifle, and the next instant the Mexican was stretched on the earth beside the first.  A third came up to the cannon.  My companion handed me another gun, and I fixed him off in like manner.  A fourth, then a fifth seized the match, who both met with the same fate.  Then the whole party gave it up as a bad job, and hurried off to the camp, leaving the cannon ready charged where they had planted it.  I came down, took my bitters, and went to breakfast.”

In the course of a week the Mexicans lost three hundred men.  But still reinforcements were continually arriving, so that their numbers were on the rapid increase.  The garrison no longer cherished any hope of receiving aid from abroad.

Under date of March 4th and 5th, 1836, we have the last lines which Crockett ever penned.

“March 4th.  Shells have been falling into the fort like hail during the day, but without effect.  About dusk, in the evening, we observed a man running toward the fort, pursued by about half a dozen of the Mexican cavalry.  The bee-hunter immediately knew him to be the old pirate, who had gone to Goliad, and, calling to the two hunters, he sallied out of the fort to the relief of the old man, who was hard pressed.  I followed close after.  Before we reached the spot the Mexicans were close on the heels of the old man, who stopped suddenly, turned short upon his pursuers, discharged his rifle, and one of the enemy fell from his horse.  The chase was renewed, but finding that he would be overtaken and cut to pieces, he now turned again, and, to the amazement of the enemy, became the assailant in his turn.  He clubbed his gun, and dashed among them like a wounded tiger, and they fled like sparrows.  By this time we reached the spot, and, in the ardor of the moment, followed some distance before we saw that our retreat to the fort was cut off by another detachment of cavalry.  Nothing was to be done but fight our way through.  We were all of the same mind.  ‘Go ahead!’ cried I; and they shouted, ‘Go ahead, Colonel!’ We dashed among them, and a bloody conflict ensued.  They were about twenty in number, and they stood their ground.  After the fight had continued about five minutes, a detachment was seen issuing from the fort to our relief, and the Mexicans scampered of, leaving eight of their comrades dead upon the field.  But we did not escape unscathed, for both the pirate and the bee-hunter were mortally wounded, and I received a sabre-cut across the forehead.  The old man died without speaking, as soon as we entered the fort.  We bore my young friend to his bed, dressed his wounds, and I watched beside him.  He lay, without complaint or manifesting pain, until about midnight, when he spoke, and I asked him if he wanted anything.  ‘Nothing,’ he replied, but drew a sigh that seemed to rend his heart, as he added, ’Poor Kate of Nacogdoches.’  His eyes were filled with tears, as he continued, ’Her words were prophetic, Colonel,” and then he sang in a low voice, that resembled the sweet notes of his own devoted Kate: