But they did not yet dare to raise themselves high enough for a shot.
Balls, shell, and bullets swept the roof without ceasing. Ned lay on his
side, almost flat. He listened to the ugly hissing and screaming over
his head until it became unbearable. He turned over on his other side
and looked at Smith, their leader. Smith was pale and weak from his
wound, but he smiled wanly.
"You don't speak, but your face asks your question, Ned," he said. "I
hate to say it, but we can't hold this roof. I never knew the Mexicans
to shoot so well before, and their numbers and cannon give them a great
advantage. Below, lads, as soon as you can!"
They crept down the stairway, and found that the house itself was
suffering from the Mexican cannon. Holes had been smashed in the walls,
but here the Texans were always replying with their rifles. They also
heard the steady fire in the house of De La Garcia and they knew that
their comrades were standing fast. Ned, exhausted by the great tension,
sat down on a willow sofa. His hands were trembling and his face was wet
with perspiration. The Ring Tailed Panther sat down beside him.
"Good plan to rest a little, Ned," he said. "We've come right into a
hornets' nest an' the hornets are stingin' us hard.
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