of dried beans for themselves, and
carefully housed corn for their horses. They feasted themselves, loaded
their pack-horses with corn and beans, applied the torch to every
lodge, laying the whole town in ashes, and then commenced their
backward march. Fresh Indian tracks indicated that many of them had
remained until the last moment of safety.

The next day the army marched back about fifteen miles to the spot
where it had held its last encampment. Eight hundred men, on a
campaign, consume a vast amount of food. Their meat was all devoured.
They had now only corn and beans. The soldiers were living mostly on
parched corn. Crockett went to Colonel Coffee, then in command, and
stating, very truthfully, that he was an experienced hunter, asked
permission to draw aside from the ranks, and hunt as they marched
along. The Colonel gave his consent, but warned him to be watchful in
the extreme, lest he should fall into an Indian ambush.

Crockett was brave, but not reckless. He plunged into the forest, with
vigilant gaze piercing the solitary space in all directions. He was
alone, on horseback. He had not gone far when he found a deer just
killed by a noiseless arrow. The animal was but partially skinned, and
still warm and smoking. The deer had certainly been killed by an
Indian; and it was equally certain that the savage, seeing his
approach, had fled. The first thought of Crockett was one of alarm. The
Indian might be hidden behind some one of the gigantic trees, and the
next moment a bullet, from the Indian's rifle, might pierce his heart.

But a second thought reassured him. The deer had been killed by an
arrow. Had the Indian been armed with a rifle, nothing would have been
easier, as he saw the approach of Crockett in the distance than for him
to have concealed himself, and then to have taken such deliberate aim
at his victim as to be sure of his death. Mounting the horse which
Crockett rode, the savage might have disappeared in the wilderness
beyond all possibility of pursuit. But this adventure taught Crockett
that he might not enjoy such good luck the next time. Another Indian
might be armed with a rifle, and Crockett, self-confident as he was,
could not pretend to be wiser in woodcraft than were the savages.

Crockett dismounted, took up the body of the deer, laid it upon the
mane of his horse, in front of the saddle, and remounting, with
increasing vigilance made his way, as rapidly as he could, to the trail
al