The bullets pursued them there.

No matter how low they lay the keen eye of some Texan searched them out, and sent in the fatal or wounding bullet.
Soon they were driven to the shelter of the adobe wall, where they lay, and for a little while returned a scattering fire which did no harm.
After it ceased no Comanche uttered a war whoop and there was silence again, save for the rain which now trickled down softly.
Bowie distributed sentinels at the openings, including the new one made by the fire, and then the Texans took count of themselves.

They had not escaped unscathed.

One lying on the floor had received a bullet in his head and had died in silence, unnoticed in the battle.

Two men had suffered wounds, but they were not severe, and would not keep them from taking part in a renewal of the combat, should it come.
All this reckoning was made in the dusk of the old convent, and with the weariness of both body and soul that comes after a period of great and prolonged exertion.