The nostrils of the Panther began to distend, and streaks of red appeared on his eyeballs.
He was smelling the battle afar, and his soul rejoiced.

He had spent his whole life amid scenes of danger, and this was nature to him.

Crockett rode up by his side, and he, too, listened eagerly.

He no longer carried Betsy over his shoulder but held the long rifle across the pommel of his saddle, his hand upon hammer and trigger.
"What do you think it is, Panther ?" he asked.

Already he had fallen into the easy familiarity of the frontier.
"I can't make it out yet," replied the Panther, "but them shots shorely came from the cabin an' places about it.