he warlike Comanches in his favor, but that they
remained faithful in their friendship to the United States.

Early in the month of February, 1836, the army of Santa Anna appeared
before the town, with infantry, artillery, and cavalry. With military
precision they approached, their banners waving, and their bugle-notes
bearing defiance to the feeble little garrison. The Texan invaders,
seeing that they would soon be surrounded, abandoned the town to the
enemy, and fled to the protection of the citadel. They were but one
hundred and fifty in number. Almost without exception they were hardy
adventurers, and the most fearless and desperate of men. They had
previously stored away in the fortress all the provisions, arms, and
ammunition, of which they could avail themselves. Over the battlements
they unfurled an immense flag of thirteen stripes, and with a large
white star of five points, surrounded by the letters "Texas." As they
raised their flag, they gave three cheers, while with drums and
trumpets they hurled back their challenge to the foe.

The Mexicans raised over the town a blood-red banner. It was their
significant intimation to the garrison that no quarter was to be
expected. Santa Anna, having advantageously posted his troops, in the
afternoon sent a summons to Colonel Travis, demanding an unconditional
surrender, threatening, in case of refusal, to put every man to the
sword. The only reply Colonel Travis made was to throw a cannon-shot
into the town. The Mexicans then opened fire from their batteries, but
without doing much harm.

In the night, Colonel Travis sent the old pirate on an express to
Colonel Fanning, who, with a small military force, was at Goliad, to
entreat him to come to his aid. Goliad was about four days' march from
Bexar. The next morning the Mexicans renewed their fire from a battery
about three hundred and fifty yards from the fort. A three-ounce ball
struck the juggler on the breast, inflicting a painful but not a
dangerous wound.

Day after day this storm of war continued. The walls of the citadel
were strong, and the bombardment inflicted but little injury. The
sharpshooters within the fortress struck down many of the assailants at
great distances.

"The bee-hunter," writes Crockett, "is about the quickest on the
trigger, and the best rifle-shot we have in the fort. I have already
seen him bring down eleven of the enemy, and at such a distance that we
all thought that it would be a