He ran over the list rapidly himself and counted them all, but his face fell when he saw his young friend the Bee-Hunter stagger.

Crockett caught him in his arms and bore him into the hospital.

He and Ned watched by his side until he died, which was very soon.

Before he became unconscious he murmured some lines from an old Scotch poem: "But hame came the saddle, all bluidy to see.
And hame came the steed, but never hame came he." They buried him that night beside the other two, and Ned was more solemn than ever when he sought his usual place in the hospital by the wall.

It had been a day of victory for the Texans, but the omens, nevertheless, seemed to him to be bad.
The next day he saw the Mexicans spreading further and further about the Alamo, and they were in such strong force that the Texans could not now afford to go out and attack any of these bands.