THE RING TAILED PANTHER
Texas was then a vague and undetermined name in the minds of many. It
might extend to the Rio Grande or it might extend only to the Nueces,
but to most the Rio Grande was the boundary between them and Mexico. So
felt Ned and all his comrades. They were now on the soil which might own
the overlordship of Mexico, but for which they, the Texans, were
spending their blood. It was strange what an attachment they had for it,
although not one of them was born there. Beyond, in the outer world,
there was much arguing about the right or wrong of their case, but they
knew that they would have to fight for their lives, and for the homes
they had built in the wilderness on the faith of promises that had been
broken. That to them was the final answer and to people in such a
position there could be no other.
The sight of Texas, green and fertile, with much forest along the
streams was very pleasant to Ned, and those rough frontiersmen in
buckskin who rode with him were the very men whom he had chosen. He had
been in a great city, and he had talked with men in brilliant uniforms,
but there everything seemed old, so far away in thought and manner from
the Texans, and he could never believe the words of the men in brilliant
uniforms. There, the land itself looked ancient and worn, but here it
was fresh and green, and men spoke the truth.
They rode until nearly noon, when they stopped in a fine grove of oaks
and pecans by the side of a clear creek. The grass was also rich and
deep here, and they did not take the trouble to tether their horses. Ned
was exceedingly glad to dismount as he was stiff and sore from the long
ride, and he was also as hungry as a wolf.
"Lay down on the grass, Ned, an' stretch yourself," said Karnes. "When
you're tired the best way to rest is to be just as lazy as you can be.
The ground will hold you up an' let your lungs do their own breathin'.
Don't you go to workin' 'em yourself."
Ned thought it good advice and took it. It was certainly a great luxury
to make no physical exertion and just to let the ground hold him up, as
Karnes had said. Obed imitated his example, stretching himself out to
his great thin length on the soft turf.
"Two are company and twenty are more so," he said, "especially if you're
in a wild country. My burden of care isn't a quarter as heavy since we
met Jim Bowie, and all the rest of these sure friends and sure shots.
This isn't much like San Juan de Ulua is it, Ned? You wouldn't like to
be back there."
The boy looked up at the vast blue dome of the heavens, then he listened
a moment to the sigh of the free wind which came unchecked a thousand
miles and he replied with so much emphasis that his words snapped:
"Not for worlds, Obed!"
Obed White laughed and rolled over in the grass.
"I do believe you mean that, Ned," he said, "and the sentiments that you
speak so well are also mine own."
Smith and Karnes went a little distance up the creek, and found some
buffalo feeding. They shot a young cow, and in an incredibly short space
tender steaks were broiling over a fire. After dinner all but two went
to sleep. They understood well the old maxim that the more haste the
less speed, and that the sleep and rest through the hours of the
afternoon would make them fit for the long riding that was yet before
them.
At five o'clock they were in the saddle again, and rode until midnight.
The next morning the party separated. The men were to carry the blazing
torch throughout the settlements, telling all the Texans that the
Mexicans were coming and that they were bringing war with them. But
Bowie, "Deaf" Smith and Karnes kept on with Ned and Obed.
"We're taking you to Sam Houston," said Bowie to Ned. "He's to be the
general of all the Texan forces, we think, and we want you to tell him
what you've told us."
They began now to see signs of settlements in the river bottoms where
the forests grew. There were stray little log cabins, almost hidden
among the oaks and pecans. Women and children came forth to see the
riders go by. The women were tanned like the men, and often they, too,
were clothed in buckskin. The children, bare of foot and head, seemed
half wild, but all, despite the sun, had the features of the Northern
races.
Ned could not keep from waving his hand to them. These were his people,
and he was thankful that he should have so large a part in the attempt
to save them. But he only had fleeting glimpses because they rode very
fast now. He was going to Sam Houston, famous throughout all the
Southwest, and Houston was at one of the little new settlements some
distance away. He would tell his story again, but he knew that the
Texans were already gathering. The messengers detached from the group
had now carried the alarm to many a cabin.
Several times at night they saw points of fire on the horizon and they
would pause to look at them.
"That's the Texans signaling to one another," said "Deaf" Smith.
"They're passing the word westward. They're calling in the buffalo
hunters and those who went out to fight the Comanches and Lipans."
Ned had alternations of hope and despondency. He saw anew how few the
Texans were. Their numbers could be counted only in thousands, while the
Mexicans had millions. Moreover, the tiny settlements were scattered
widely. Could such a thin force make a successful defense against the
armies of Cos and Santa Anna? But after every moment of despair, the
rebound came, and he saw that the spirit of the people was indomitable.
At last, they rode into a straggling little village by the side of a
wide and shallow river. All the houses were built of logs or rough
boards, and Ned and his companions dismounted before the largest. They
had already learned that Sam Houston was inside. Ned felt intense
curiosity as they approached. He knew the history of Houston, his
singular and picturesque career, and the great esteem in which he was
held by the Texans. A man with a rifle on his shoulder stood by the door
as guard, but he recognized Smith and Karnes, and held the door open for
the four, who went inside without a word.
Several men, talking earnestly were sitting in cane-bottomed chairs, and
Ned, although he had never seen him before, knew at once which was
Houston. The famous leader sat in the center of the little group. He was
over six feet high, very powerful of build, with thick, longish hair,
and he was dressed carefully in a suit of fine dark blue cloth. He rose
and saluted the four with great courtesy. Despite his long period of
wild life among the Indians his manners were distinguished.
"We welcome you, Smith and Karnes, our faithful scouts," he said, "and
we also welcome those with you who, I presume, are the two escaped from
the City of Mexico."
It was evident that the story of Ned and Obed had preceded them, but
Karnes spoke for them.
"Yes, General," he said. "They are the men, or rather the man and the
boy. These are Obed White and Ned Fulton, General Houston."
Houston's glance ran swiftly over them. Evidently he liked both, as he
smiled and gave each a hearty hand.
"And now for your story," he said.
Obed nodded toward Ned.
"He's the one who saw it all," he said, "and he's the one who brings the
warning."
Ned was a little abashed by the presence of Houston and the other
important Texans, but he told the tale once more rapidly and succinctly.
Every one listened closely. They were the chief members of the temporary
Texan government, but the room in which they met was all of the
frontier. Its floor was of rough boards. Its walls and ceilings were
unplastered. There was not a single luxury and not all of the
necessities.
When Ned finished, Houston turned to the others and said quietly:
"Gentlemen, we all know that this is war. I think there need be no
discussion of the point. It seems necessary to send out more messengers
gathering up every Texan who will fight. Do you agree with me?"
All said yes.
"I think, too," said Houston, "that Santa Anna may now send Mr. Austin
back to us. He does not know how well informed we are, and doubtless he
will believe that such an act will keep us in a state of blindness."
"And you, my brave and resourceful young friend, what do you want to
do?"
"Fight under you."
Houston laughed and put his hand affectionately on the boy's shoulder.
"I see that there is something of the courtier in you, too," he said.
"It is not a bad quality sometimes, and you shall have the chance that
you ask, later on. But meanwhile, you and Mr. White would better rest
here, a while. You may have some scouting and skirmishing to do first.
We must feel our way."
Ned and Obed now withdrew, and received the hospitality of the little
town which was great, at least so far as food was concerned. They longed
for action, but the rest was really necessary. Both body and spirit were
preparing for greater deeds. Meanwhile, Houston, the scouts and the
Texan government went away, but Ned and Obed stayed, awaiting the call.
They knew that the signals had now passed through all Texas and they did
not think that they would have to remain there long.
They heard soon that Houston's prediction in regard to Austin had come
true. Santa Anna had released him, and he had arrived in Texas. But he
had not been cajoled. His eyes had been opened at last to the designs of
the dictator and immediately upon his return to Texas he had warned his
countrymen in a great speech. Meanwhile, the army of Cos was approaching
San Antonio, preceded by the heralds of coming Texan ruin.
Ned and Obed sat under the shade of some live oaks, when a horseman came
to the little village. He was a strange man, great in size, dressed in
buckskin, very brown of countenance and with long hair, tied as the
western Indians would wear it. He was something of a genial boaster,
was this man, and he was known up and down the Texas border as the Ring
Tailed Panther although his right name was Martin Palmer. But he had
lived long among the Osage, Kiowa and Pawnee Indians, and he was
renowned throughout all the Southwestern country for his bravery, skill
and eccentricity. An Indian had killed a white man and eaten his heart.
He captured the Indian and compelled him to eat until he died. When his
favorite bear dog died he rode sixty miles and brought a minister to
preach a sermon over his body. A little boy was captured on the
outskirts of a settlement by some Comanche Indians. He followed them
alone for three hundred miles, stole the boy away from them in the
night, and carried him back safely to his father and mother.
Such was the Ring Tailed Panther, a name that he had originally given to
himself and which the people had adopted, one who boasted that he feared
no man, the boast being true. He was heavily armed and he rode a black
and powerful horse, which he directed straight toward the place where
Ned and Obed were sitting.
"You are Ned Fulton an' Obed White, if report tells no lie?" he said in
a deep growling voice.
"We are," said Ned, who did not know the identity of their formidable
visitor.
"So I knew. I just wanted to see if you'd deny it. Glad to meet you,
gentlemen. As for me, I'm the Ring Tailed Panther."
"The Ring Tailed Panther?"
"Exactly. Didn't you hear me say so? I'm the Ring Tailed Panther, an' I
can whip anything livin', man or beast, lion or grizzly bear. That's why
I'm the Ring Tailed Panther."
"Happy to know you, Mr. Ring Tailed Panther," said Ned, "and having no
quarrel with you we don't wish to fight you."
The man laughed, his broad face radiating good humor.
"And I don't want to fight you, either," he said, "'cause all of us have
got to fight somebody else. See here, your name's Obed an' yours is Ned,
and that's what I'm goin' to call you. No Mistering for me. It don't
look well for a Ring Tailed Panther to be givin' handles to people's
names."
"Ned and Obed it is," said Ned with warmth.
"Then, Ned an' Obed, it's Mexicans. I've been fightin' Indians a long
time. Besides bein' a Ring Tailed Panther, I'm three parts grizzly bear
an' one part tiger, an' I want you both to come with guns."
"Is it fighting?" asked Ned, starting up.
"It's ridin' first an' then fightin'. Our people down at Gonzales have a
cannon. The Mexicans are comin' to take it away from them, an' I think
there's goin' to be trouble over the bargain. The Texans got the gun as
a defense against the Indians an' they need it. Some of us are goin'
down there to take a hand in the matter of that gun, an' you are goin'
with us."
"Of course we are!" said Ned and Obed together. In five minutes they
were riding, fully armed, with the Ring Tailed Panther over the prairie.
He gave them more details as they rode along.
"Some of our people had been gatherin' at San Felipe to stop the march
of Cos if they could," he said, "but they've been drawn off now to help
Gonzales. They're comin' from Bastrop, too, an' other places, an' if
there ain't a fight then I'm the Ring Tailed Panther for nothing. If we
keep a good pace we can join a lot of the boys by nightfall."
"We'll keep it," said Ned. The boy's heart was pounding. Somehow he felt
that an event of great importance was at hand, and he was glad to have a
share in it. But the three spoke little. The Panther led the way. Ned
saw that despite his boasting words he was a man of action. Certainly he
was acting swiftly now, and it was quite evident that he knew what he
was doing. At last he turned to Ned and said:
"You're only a boy. You know what you're goin' into, of course?"
"A fight, I think."
"And you may get killed?"
"I know it. One can't go into a fight without that risk."
"You're a brave boy. I've heard of what you did, an' you don't talk
much. I'm glad of that. I can do all the talkin' that's needed by the
three of us. The Lord created me with a love of gab."
The man spoke in a whimsical tone and Ned laughed.
"You can have all my share of the talking, Mr. Palmer," he said.
"The Ring Tailed Panther," corrected the man. "I told you not to be
Misterin' me. I like that name, the Ring Tailed Panther. It suits me,
because I fit an' I fight till they get me down, then I curl my tail an'
I take another round. Once in New Orleans I met a fellow who said he was
half horse, half alligator, that he could either claw to death the best
man living, stamp him to pieces or eat him alive. I invited him to do
any one of these things or all three of them to me."
"What happened?" asked Ned.
A broad smile passed over the man's brown face.
"After they picked up the pieces an' put him back together," he said, "I
told him he might try again whenever he felt like it, but he said his
challenge was directed to human beings, not to Ring Tailed Panthers. Him
an' me got to be great friends an' he's somewhere in Texas now. I may
run acrost him before our business with the Mexicans is over, which I
take it is goin' to last a good while."
It was now late in the afternoon, and dismounting at a clump of trees
the Panther lighted the end of a dead stick and waved the torch around
his head many times.
"Watch there in the west for another light like this," he said.
Ned, who sat on his horse, was the first to see the faint circling light
far down under the horizon. It was so distant that he could not have
seen it had he not been looking for it, but when he pointed it out the
Panther ceased to whirl his own torch.
"It's some friends," he said, "an' they're answerin'. They're sayin'
that they've seen us an' that they're waitin'. When they get through
we'll say that we understan' an' are comin'."
The whirling torch on the horizon stopped presently. The Panther whirled
his own for half a minute, then he sprang back upon his horse and the
three rode rapidly forward.
The sight of the lights sparkling in the twilight so far across the
prairie thrilled Ned. He felt that he was in very truth riding to a
fight as the Panther had said. Perhaps it was a part of the force of Cos
that was coming to Gonzales. Cos himself had turned from the land route
with a part of his force and, coming by sea, had landed at Copano about
two weeks before. Ned, having full cause, hated this brutal man, and he
hoped that the Texans would come to grips with him.
The night was at hand when they reached four men sitting on horseback
and waiting for them. They greeted the Ring Tailed Panther with few
words but with warmth. They gave to Ned and Obed, too, the strong
handclasp which men in danger give to friends who come. Ned thrilled
once more with pride that he should be associated with heroes in great
deeds. Such they undoubtedly were to him.
"The Mexicans will be at Gonzales to-morrow," said one of the men. "The
place, as you know, has refused to give up its cannon and has defied
them, but it's almost bare of men. I don't think they have a dozen
there."
"The battle is generally to the strong if they get there in time," said
Obed, "and here are seven of us on good horses."
"Not countin' the fact that one of us is a Ring Tailed Panther with
claws a foot long an' two sets of teeth in his mouth," said Palmer.
"Ride on, boys, an' ride hard."
They urged their horses into a gallop and sped over the prairie. At
midnight they clattered into the tiny village of Gonzales on the
Guadalupe River, where everybody except the little children was awake
and watching. Lights flared from the cabins, and the alarm at first,
lest they were Mexicans, changed to joy when they were disclosed as
Texans.
But the armed force of the place, though stout of heart, was pitifully
small. They found only eleven men in Gonzales capable of bearing arms,
and no more help could be expected before the Mexicans came the next
day. But eleven and seven make eighteen, and now that they were joined,
and communicating spirit and hope to one another, the eighteen were more
than twice as strong as the eleven had been. The Ring Tailed Panther
poured forth a stream of cheer and encouragement. He grew more voluble
at the approach of danger. Never had his teeth and claws been longer or
sharper.
"I'm afraid of nothin' except that they won't come," he said. "If they
don't, my health will give way. I'll be a-droopin' an' a-pinin' an' I'll
have to go off an' fight the Comanches an' Lipans to get back my
strength."
But he was assured that his health would not suffer. Mexican cavalry, a
hundred strong, were coming under a captain, Castenada, sent by
Ugartchea, the Mexican commander at San Antonio de Bexar. Scouts had
brought that definite news. They were riding from the west and they
would have to cross the Guadalupe before they could enter Gonzales.
There were fords, but it would be a dangerous task to attempt their
passage in face of the Texan rifles.
The ferryboat was tied safely on the Gonzales side, and then the
eighteen, every one a fine marksman, distributed themselves at the
fords. Ned, Obed and the Ring Tailed Panther stayed together. They did
not anticipate the arrival of the Mexican forces before dawn, but
Castenada might send spies ahead, and the Mexican scouts were full of
wiles and stratagems.
"At any rate," said the Panther, "if we catch any Mexican prowling
around here we'll throw him into the river."
"All things, including Mexicans, come to him who waits," said Obed, "and
speaking for myself I'd rather they wouldn't come until day. It's more
comfortable to sit quiet in the dark."
These three and six others had taken a position under a great oak tree,
where they were well shaded but could easily see anyone who approached
the ford on the opposite side. Back of them a few lights burned in the
little town, where the anxious women watched, but no noise came from it
or the second ford, where the other half of the eighteen were on guard.
Their horses were tethered some distance in the rear and they, too,
rested in quiet.
The tree sent up a great gnarled root and Ned sat on the ground, leaning
against it. It just fitted into the curve of his back and he was very
comfortable. But he did not allow his comfort to lull him into lethargy.
Always he watched the river and the farther shore. He had now become no
mean scout and sentinel. The faculties develop fast amid the continuous
fight for life against all kinds of dangers. Above all, that additional
sense which may be defined as prescience, and, which was a development
of the other five, was alive within him, ready to warn him of a hostile
presence.
But Ned neither saw nor heard anything, nor did his sixth sense warn him
that an enemy was near. The Guadalupe, wide, yellow and comparatively
shallow like most of the Texas rivers, flowed slowly and without sound.
Now and then Obed and the Panther walked down to the other ford, where
all, too, was quiet, but Ned kept his place against the root. Toward
morning the Panther sat down beside him there.
"Waitin's hard," he said. "I like to jump on the enemy with claws an'
nails an' have it out right there an' then. I like to roar an' bite.
That's why I'm a Ring Tailed Panther."
Ned laughed.
"If Castenada is coming, and they say he surely is," he said, "we'll
soon have use for all our claws and teeth."
"Patience will bring our Mexicans," said Obed White.
At daylight women from the cabins brought them all coffee and warm food,
for which they were very grateful. Then the sun rose, and the morning
was fresh and crisp, it now being autumn. The men remained by the
river, still watching intently and Ned caught a sudden sharp glint which
was not that of the sun, far out on the prairie. He knew that it was a
brilliant ray reflected from the polished head of a lance, and he said
as he pointed a finger:
"The Mexicans are coming."
"So they are," said the Ring Tailed Panther. "I see a horseman, an'
another, an' another, an' now a lot of 'em. They must be a hundred at
least. It's the troop of Castenada, an' they're after that cannon. Well,
I'm glad."
The man seemed to swell and his eyes darkened. He was like some
formidable beast about to spring. The boaster was ready to make good his
boast.
"Run down to the other ford, Ned," said Palmer, "an' tell the men there
that the Mexicans are at hand."
Ned did his errand, but returned very quickly. He was anxious to see the
advance of Castenada's troop. The Mexicans, about half of whom were
lancers and the rest armed with muskets, came on very steadily. An
officer in fine uniform, whom Ned took to be Castenada himself, rode at
their head. When they came within rifle shot a white flag was hoisted on
a lance.
"A white flag! This is no time for white flags," growled the Ring Tailed
Panther. "Never have any faith in a Mexican comin' under a white flag.
What we've got to do now is to roar an' rip an' claw."
"Still," said Obed, "it's evil to him who evil does, and we've got to
wait till these Mexicans do it. First we've got to hear what they say,
and if the saying isn't to our liking, as I'm thinking it won't be, then
it's ripping and roaring and clawing and all the other 'ings' to our
taste as long as we can stand it."
"Go ahead," growled the Ring Tailed Panther, "I'm not much on talkin'.
Fightin's more in my line an' when it's that I come with a hop, a skip
an' a jump, teeth an' claws all ready."
"Ned," said Obed, "you speak the best Spanish, so go down there to the
bank of the river, and hear what they have to say. Just remember that
we're not giving up the cannon, and clothe the answers in what fine
words you please. There isn't any rock here, but sooner this rock shall
fly from its firm base than the Texans will yield their cannon when they
are sure to be attacked by Indians and maybe Mexicans too."
Ned walked down to the edge of the river and the officer, whom he
rightly supposed to be Castenada, dismounting, came to the shore at an
opposite point.
"What do you want?" cried Ned in pure Spanish across the water.
"Are you empowered to speak for the people of Gonzales?"
"You hear me speaking and you see the other Texans listening."
"Then I have to say that on the order of General Cos I demand your
cannon in the name of General Santa Anna and Mexico."
"We've made up our minds to keep it. We're sure to need it later on."
"This is insolent. If you do not give it we shall come and take it."
"Tell him, Ned," growled the Ring Tailed Panther, "that we just hope
he'll come an' try to take it, that I'm here roarin' all the time, that
I've filed my teeth an' nails 'till they're like the edge of a razor,
an' that I'm just hungerin' to rip an' claw."
"The men of Gonzales mean to defend their cannon and themselves,"
called Ned across the river. "If you come to take the gun it means war.
It means more, too. It means that you will lose many of your soldiers.
The Texans, as you know, are both able and willing to shoot."
"This is rebellion and treason!" cried Castenada. "The great Santa Anna
will come with a mighty force, and when he is through not a Texan will
trouble the surface of the earth."
A roar of approval came from the men behind the Mexican captain, but Ned
replied:
"Until the earth is rid of us we may make certain spots of it dangerous
for you. So, I warn you to draw back. Our bullets carry easily across
this river."
Captain Castenada, white with rage, retired with his troop beyond the
range of the Texan rifles.