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David Crockett: His Life and Adventures by John S. C. Abbott
Book, page 191 / 204


that he was lost, alone and on foot, on the boundless prairie. He
was, however, too much accustomed to scenes of the wildest adventure
to allow himself to be much cast down. His appetite was not
disturbed, and he began to feel the cravings of hunger.

He took his rifle and stepped out in search of his breakfast. He had
gone but a short distance ere he saw a large flock of wild geese, on
the bank of the river. Selecting a large fat gander, he shot him,
soon stripped him of his feathers, built a fire, ran a stick through
the goose for a spit, and then, supporting it on two sticks with
prongs, roasted his savory viand in the most approved style. He had
a little tin cup with him, and a paper of ground coffee, with which
he made a cup of that most refreshing beverage. Thus he breakfasted
sumptuously.

He was just preparing to depart, with his saddle upon his shoulder,
much perplexed as to the course he should pursue, when he was again
alarmed by one of those wild scenes ever occurring in the West.
First faintly, then louder and louder came the sound as of the
trampling of many horses on the full gallop. His first thought was
that another enormous herd of buffaloes was sweeping down upon him.
But soon he saw, in the distance, a band of about fifty Comanche
Indians, well mounted, painted, plumed, and bannered, the horse and
rider apparently one animal, coming down upon him, their horses
being urged to the utmost speed. It was a sublime and yet an
appalling spectacle, as this band of half-naked savages, their
spears glittering in the morning sun, and their long hair streaming
behind, came rushing on.

Crockett was standing in full view upon the banks of the stream. The
column swept on, and, with military precision, as it approached,
divided into two semicircles, and in an instant the two ends of the
circle reached the river, and Crockett was surrounded. Three of the
savages performed the part of trumpeters, and with wonderful
resemblance, from their lips, emitted the pealing notes of the
bugle. Almost by instinct he grasped his rifle, but a flash of
thought taught him that, under the circumstances, any attempt at
resistance would be worse than unavailing.

The chief sprang from his horse, and advancing with proud strides

 
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