The Ring Tailed Panther had a mighty voice, issuing from a mighty throat.  Never had he used it in greater volume or to better purpose than on that night.  The forest fairly thundered with the echoes of the battle cry, and as the dazed Mexicans rushed for their guns only to find them gone, they thought that the whole Texan army was upon them.  In another instant a new terror struck at their hearts.  Their horses and mules, driven in a frightful stampede, suddenly rushed into the glade and they were now busy keeping themselves from being trampled to death.

Truly the Panther had spent well the few minutes allotted to him.  He fired new shots, some into the frightened herd.  His tremendous voice never ceased for an instant to encourage his charging troops, and to roar out threats against the enemy.  Urrea, to his credit, made an attempt to organize his men, to stop the panic, and to see the nature of the enemy, but he was borne away in the frantic mob of men and horses which was now rushing for the open plain.

Ned and Obed led the fugitives to the place where the rifles and muskets were stacked.  Here they rapidly distributed the weapons and then broke across the tree trunks all they could not use or carry.  Another minute and they reached their horses, where the Panther, panting from his huge exertions, joined them.  Ned helped the lame man upon one of the horses, the weakest two who remained, including the boy, were put upon the others, and led by the Panther they started northward, leaving the chaparral.

It was a singular march, but for a long time nothing was said.  The sound of the Mexican stampede could yet be heard, moving to the south, but they, rescuers and rescued, walked in silence save for the sound of their feet in the mud of the wind-swept plain.  Ned looked curiously at the faces of those whom they had saved, but the night had not lightened, and he could discern nothing.  They went thus a full quarter of an hour.  The noise of the stampede sank away in the south, and then the Panther laughed.

It was a deep, hearty, unctuous laugh that came from the very depths of the man’s chest.  It was a laugh with no trace of merely superficial joy.  He who uttered it laughed because his heart and soul were in it.  It was a laugh of mirth, relief and triumph, all carried to the highest degree.  It was a long laugh, rising and falling, but when it ceased and the Panther had drawn a deep breath he opened his mouth again and spoke the words that were in his mind.

“I shorely did some rippin’ an’ roarin’ then,” he said.  “It was the best chance I ever had, an’ I guess I used it.  How things did work for us!  Them sleepy sentinels, an’ then the stampede of the animals, carryin’ Urrea an’ the rest right away with it.”

“Fortune certainly worked for us,” said Ned.

“And we can find no words in which to describe to you our gratitude,” said the crippled man on the horse.  “We were informed very clearly by Urrea that we were rebels and, under the decree of Santa Anna, would be executed.  Even our young friend here, this boy, William Allen, would not have been spared.”