"The talking is over.
It's rifles that we need and plenty of them.

Now I've to see Houston.
We're to talk over ways and means." He hurried away, and the two, settling back into their chairs on the porch, relighted their pipes and smoked calmly.
"Reckon there'll be nothin' doin' for a day or two, Hank," said Smith.
"Reckon not, but we'll have to be doin' a powerful lot later, or be hoofin' it for the tall timber a thousand miles north." "You always was full of sense, Hank.

Now there goes Sam Houston.

Queer stories about his leavin' Tennessee and his life in the Indian Territory." "That's so, but he's an honest man, looks far ahead, an' 'tween you an' me, 'Deaf,' it's a thousand to one that he's to lead us in the war." "Reckon you're guessin' good." Houston, who had just awakened and dressed, was walking across the grass and weeds to meet Burnet.

Not even he, when he looked at the tiny village and the wilderness spreading about it, foresaw how mighty a state was to rise from beginnings so humble and so small.