Besides being the Texans and his own people, to whom he had come after the long journey of perils, they made a wonderful appeal.

These were the bold riders, the dauntless, the fearless.

He would not find here the pliancy, the cunning, the craft and the dark genius of Santa Anna, but he would find men who talked straight, who shot straight, and who feared nobody.
They were sixteen in number, and all were clad wholly in buckskin, with fur caps upon their heads.

They were heavily armed, every man carrying at least a rifle, a pistol, and a formidable knife, invented by Bowie.
All were powerful physically, and every face had been darkened by the sun.

Ned felt that such a group as this was a match for a hundred Mexicans or Lipans.
They worked dextrously and rapidly, unsaddling their horses and tethering them where they could graze in the open, drawing up the dead wood until it made a heap which was quickly lighted, and then cooking strips of venison over the coals.