“Somethin’ laid a big egg then,” said Crockett.  “It’s jest as well to keep a stone roof over your head when you’re under fire of a few dozen cannon.  Never take foolish risks, Ned, for the sake of showin’ off.  That’s the advice of an old man.”

Crockett spoke very earnestly, and Ned remembered his words.  Bonham called to them a few minutes later that the Mexicans seemed to be meditating some movement on the lower wall around the grand plaza.

“Like as not you’re right,” said Crockett.  “It would be the time to try it while our attention was attracted by the big cannonade.”

Crockett himself was detailed to meet the new movement, and he led fifty sharpshooters.  Ned was with him, his brain throbbing with the certainty that he was going into action once more.  Great quantities of smoke hung over the Alamo and had penetrated every part of it.  It crept into Ned’s throat, and it also stung his eyes.  It inflamed his brain and increased his desire for combat.  They reached the low wall on a run, and found that Bonham was right.  A large force of Mexicans was approaching from that side, evidently expecting to make an opening under cover of the smoke.

The assailants were already within range, and the deadly Texan rifles began to crack at once from the wall.  The whole front line of the Mexican column was quickly burned away.  The return fire of the Mexicans was hasty and irregular and they soon broke and ran.

“An’ that’s over,” said Crockett, as he sent a parting shot.  “It was easy, an’ bein’ sheltered not a man of ours was hurt.  But, Ned, don’t let the idea that we have a picnic here run away with you.  We’ve got to watch an’ watch an’ fight an’ fight all the time, an’ every day more Mexicans will come.”

“I understand, Mr. Crockett,” said Ned.  “You know that we may never get out of here alive, and I know it, too.”

“You speak truth, lad,” said Crockett, very soberly.  “But remember that it’s a chance we take every day here in the southwest.  An’ it’s pleasant to know that they’re all brave men here together.  You haven’t seen any flinchin’ on the part of anybody an’ I don’t think you ever will.”

“What are you going to do now?” asked Ned.

“I’m goin’ to eat dinner, an’ after that I’ll take a nap.  My advice to you is to do the same, ’cause you’ll be on watch to-night.”

“I know I can eat,” said Ned, “and I’ll try to sleep.”

He found that his appetite was all right, and after dinner he lay down in the long room of the hospital.  Here he heard the cannon of Santa Anna still thundering, but the walls softened the sound somewhat and made it seem much more distant.  In a way it was soothing and Ned, although sure that he could not sleep, slept.  All that afternoon he was rocked into deeper slumber by the continuous roar of the Mexican guns.  Smoke floated over the convent yard and through all the buildings, but it did not disturb him.  Now and then a flash of rifle fire came from the Texans on the walls, but that did not disturb him, either.