He was dressed completely in buckskin, save for the raccoon skin cap that crowned his thick black hair.

The rider on his right hand was long and thin with the calm countenance of a philosopher, and the one on his left was an eager and impatient boy.
"I wish this rain would stop," said the Panther, his ensanguined eye expressing impatience and anger.

"I don't mind gettin' cold an' I don't mind gettin' wet, but there is nothin' stickier or harder to plough through than the Texas mud.

An' every minute counts.

Them boys in that Alamo can't fight off thousands of Mexicans forever.