Ned's tree was at the edge of a little grassy plain, and upon this the animal stood, with a head held high and upturned nose sniffing the breeze that came from the direction of the sleeper.
It was in truth a great animal, one with tremendous teeth, and after hesitating a while it walked toward the tree under which the boy lay.
Here it paused and again sniffed the air, which was now strong with the human odor.

It remained there a while, staring with great eyes at the sleeping form, and then went back to the grassy little meadow.

It revisited the boy at intervals, but never disturbed him, and Ned slept peacefully on.
It was nearly noon when Ned awoke, and he might not have awakened then had not the sun from its new position sent a shaft of light directly into his eyes.

He saw that his precious rifle was still lying by his side, and then he sprang to his feet, startled to find by the sun that it was so late.

He heard a loud joyous neigh, and a great bay horse trotted toward him.
It was Old Jack, the faithful dumb brute, of which he had thought so rarely during all those tense days in the Alamo.