THE TEXAN STAR
Just after the three started, they looked back and saw a faint light
over the trees, which they knew was caused by the forest fire still
traveling northward.
"It seemed almost a sin to set the torch to the woods," said the boy,
"but I couldn't think of any other way to get you two loose from the
Mexicans."
"It's a narrow fire," said the Ring Tailed Panther, "an' I guess it will
burn itself out ag'inst some curve of the creek a few miles further on."
This, in truth, was what happened, as they learned later, but for the
present they could bestow the thought of only a few moments upon the
subject. Despite the Mexican interruption they intended to go on with
their mission. With good horses beneath them they expected to reach the
Brazos settlements the next day unless some new danger intervened.
They turned from the forest into the prairie and rode northward at a
good gait.
"That was a fine scheme of yours, Ned," repeated the Ring Tailed
Panther, "an' nobody could have done it better. You set the fire an'
here we are, together ag'in."
"I was greatly helped by luck," said Ned modestly.
"Luck helps them that think hard an' try hard. Didn't that fellow,
Urrea, give you the creeps? I had my doubts about him before, but I
never believed he was quite as bad as he is."
But Ned felt melancholy. It seemed to him that somebody whom he liked
had died.
"I saw him talking to you and Obed," he said. "What was he saying?"
The Ring Tailed Panther frowned and Ned heard his teeth grit upon one
another.
"He was sayin' a lot of things," he replied. "He was talkin' low down,
hittin' at men who couldn't hit back, abusin' prisoners, which the same
was Obed an' me. He was doin' what I guess you would call tauntin',
tellin' of all the things we would have to suffer. He said that they'd
get you, too, before mornin' an' that we'd all be hanged as rebels an'
traitors to Mexico. He laughed at the way he fooled us. He said that
spat he had with Sandoval was only make-believe. He said that we'd never
get San Antonio; that he'd kept Cos informed about all our movements an'
that Santa Anna was comin' with a great army. He said that most of us
would be chawed right up, an' that them that wasn't chawed up would wish
they had been before Santa Anna got through with 'em."
"Many a threatened man who runs away lives to fight another day," said
Obed cheerfully.
"That's so," said the Ring Tailed Panther, "an' I say it among us three
that if we don't take San Antonio we'll have a mighty good try at it,
an' if it comes to hangin' an' all that sort of business there's Texan
as well as Mexican ropes."
They reached another belt of forest about 3 o'clock in the morning, and
they concluded to rest there and get some sleep. They felt no fear of
the Mexicans who, they were sure, were now riding southward. They slept
here four or five hours, and late the next afternoon reached the first
settlement on the Brazos.
Ned and his companions spent a week on the river and when they rode
south again they took with them nearly a hundred volunteers for the
attack on San Antonio, the last draft that the little settlements could
furnish. Very few, save the women and children, were left behind.
On their return journey they passed through the very forest in which Ned
had made his singular rescue of Obed and the Ring Tailed Panther. They
saw the camp and they saw the swath made by the fire, a narrow belt,
five or six miles in length, ending as the Ring Tailed Panther had
predicted at a curve of the creek. The Mexicans, as they now knew
definitely, were gone days ago from that region.
"Perhaps we'll meet Urrea when we attack San Antonio," said Ned.
"Maybe," said Obed.
They rode to the camp on the Salado without interruption, and found that
indecision still reigned there. The blockade of San Antonio was going
on, and the men were eager for the assault, but the leaders were
convinced that the force was too small and weak. They would not consent
to what they considered sure disaster. The recruits that the three
brought were welcomed, but Ned noticed a state of depression in the
camp. He found yet there his old friends, Bowie, Smith, Karnes, and the
others. His news that Urrea was a spy and traitor created a sensation.
Ned was asked by "Deaf" Smith the morning after his arrival to go with
him on a scout, and he promptly accepted. A rest of a single day was
enough for him and he was pining for new action.
The two rode toward the town, and then curved away to one side, keeping
to the open prairie where they might see the approach of a superior
enemy, in time. They observed the Mexican sentinels at a distance, but
the two forces had grown so used to each other that no hostile
demonstration was made, unless one or the other came too close.
Smith and Ned rode some distance, and then turned on another course,
which brought them presently to a hill covered with ash and oak. They
rode among the trees and from that point of vantage searched the whole
horizon. Ned caught the glint of something in the south, and called
Smith's attention to it.
"What do you think it is?" he asked after Smith had looked a long time.
"It's the sun shining on metal, either a lance head or a rifle barrel.
Ah, now I see horsemen riding this way."
"And they are Mexicans, too," said Ned. "What does it mean?"
A considerable force of mounted Mexicans was coming into view, and
Smith's opinion was formed at once.
"It's reinforcements for Cos," he cried. "We heard that Ugartchea was
going to bring fresh troops from Laredo, and that he would also have
with him mule loads of silver to pay off Cos' men. We'll just cut off
this force and take their silver. We'll ride to Bowie!"
They galloped at full speed to the camp and found the redoubtable
Georgian, who instantly gathered together a hundred men including the
Ring Tailed Panther and Obed and raced back. The Mexican horsemen were
still in the valley, seeming to move slowly, and Bowie at once formed up
the Texans for a charge. But before he could give the word a trumpet
pealed, and the Mexicans rode at full speed toward a great gully at the
end of the valley into which they disappeared. The last that the Texans
saw were some heavily-loaded mules following their master into the
ravine.
The Ring Tailed Panther burst into a laugh.
"Them's not reinforcements," he cried, "an' them's not mules loaded with
silver. They're carryin' nothin' but grass. These men have been out
there cuttin' feed in the meadow for Cos' horses."
"You're right, Panther," said "Deaf" Smith, somewhat crestfallen.
"But we'll attack, just the same," said Bowie. "Our men need action.
We'll follow 'em into that gully. On, men, on!"
A joyous shout was his reply and the men galloped into the plain. They
were about to charge for the gully when Bowie cried to them to halt. A
new enemy had appeared. A heavy force of cavalry with two guns was
coming from San Antonio to rescue the grass cutters. They rode forward
with triumphant cheers, but the Texans did not flinch. They would face
odds of at least three to one with calmness and confidence.
"Rifles ready, men!" cried Bowie. "They're about to charge."
The trumpets pealed out the signal again, and the Mexicans charged at a
gallop. Up went the Texans' rifles. A hundred fingers pressed a hundred
triggers, and a hundred bullets crashed into the front of the Mexican
line. Down went horses and men, and the Mexican column stopped. But it
opened in a few moments, and, through the breach, the two cannon began
to fire, the heavy reports echoing over the plain. The Texans
instinctively lengthened their line, making it as thin as possible, and
continued their deadly rifle fire.
Ned, Obed and the Ring Tailed Panther as usual kept close together, and
"Deaf" Smith also was now with them. All of them were aiming as well as
they could through the smoke which was gathering fast, but the Mexicans,
in greatly superior force, supported by the cannon, held their ground.
The grass cutters in the gully also opened fire on the Texan flank, and
for many minutes the battle swayed back and forth on the plain, while
the clouds of smoke grew thicker, at times almost hiding the combatants
from one another.
The Texans now began to press harder, and the Mexicans, despite their
numbers and their cannon, yielded a little, but the fire from the men in
the gully was stinging their flank. If they pushed forward much farther
they would be caught between the two forces and might be destroyed. It
was an alarming puzzle, but at that moment a great shout rose behind
them. The sound of the firing had been heard in the main Texan camp and
more Texans were coming by scores.
"It's all over now," said Obed.
The Texans divided into two forces. One drove the main column of the
Mexicans in confusion back upon the town, and the other, containing Ned
and his friends, charged into the gully and put to flight or captured
all who were hidden there. They also took the mules with their loads of
grass which they carried back to their own camp.
Ned, the Ring Tailed Panther, Obed and "Deaf" Smith rode back together
to the Salado. It had been a fine victory, won as usual against odds,
but they were not exultant. In the breast of every one of them had been
a hope that the whole Texan army would seize the opportunity and charge
at once upon Cos and San Antonio. Instead, they had been ordered back.
They made their discontent vocal that and the following evenings. There
was no particular order among the Texans. They usually acted in groups,
according to the localities from which they came, and some, believing
that nothing would be done, had gone home disgusted. Mr. Austin himself
had left, and Houston had persisted in his refusal to command. Burleson,
a veteran Indian fighter, had finally been chosen for the leadership.
Houston soon left, and Bowie, believing that nothing would be done,
followed him.
It was only a few days after the grass fight, and despite that victory,
Ned felt the current of depression. It seemed that their fortune was
melting away without their ever putting it to the touch. Although new
men had come their force was diminishing in numbers and San Antonio was
farther from their hands than ever.
"If we don't do something before long," said Henry Karnes, "we'll just
dissolve like a snow before a warm wind."
"An' all our rippin' an' tearin' will go for nothin'," growled the Ring
Tailed Panther. "We've won every fight we've been in, an' yet they won't
let us go into that town an' have it out with Cos."
"We'll get it yet," said Obed cheerfully. "In war it's a long lane that
has no battle at the end. Just you be patient, Panther. Patience will
have her good fight. I've tested it more than once myself."
Ned did not say anything. He had made himself a comfortable place, and,
as the cold night wind was whistling among the oaks and pecans, the fire
certainly looked very good to him. He watched the flames leap and sink,
and the great beds of coals form, and once more he was very glad that he
was not alone again on the Mexican mountains. He resolutely put off the
feeling of depression. They might linger and hesitate now, but he did
not doubt that the cause of Texas would triumph in the end.
Ned was restless that night, so restless that he could not sleep, and,
after a futile effort, he rose, folded up his blankets and wandered
about the camp. It was a body of volunteers drawn together by patriotism
and necessity for a common purpose, and one could do almost as one
pleased. There was a ring of sentinels, but everybody knew everybody
else and scouts, skirmishers and foragers passed at will.
Ned was fully armed, of course, and, leaving the camp, he entered an oak
grove that lay between it and the city. As there was no underbrush here
and little chance for ambush he felt quite safe. Behind him he saw the
camp and the lights of the scattered fires now dying, but before him he
saw only the trunks of the trees and the dusky horizon beyond.
Ned had no definite object in view, but he thought vaguely of scouting
along the river. One could never know too much about the opposing force,
and experience added to natural gifts had given him great capabilities.
He advanced deeper into the pecan grove, and reached the point where the
trees grew thickest. There, where the moonlight fell he saw a shadow
lying along the ground, the shadow of a man. Ned sprang behind a tree
and lay almost flat. The shadow had moved, but he could still see a
head. He felt sure that its owner was behind another tree not yet ten
feet distant. Perhaps some Mexican scout like himself. On the other
hand, it might be Smith or Karnes, and he called softly.
No answer came to his call. Some freak of the moonlight still kept the
shadowy head in view, while its owner remained completely hidden,
unconscious, perhaps, that any part of his reflection was showing. Ned
did not know what to do. After waiting a long time, and, seeing that the
shadow did not move, he edged his way partly around the trunk, and
stopped where he was still protected by the ground and the tree. He saw
the shadowy head shift to the same extent that he had moved, but he
heard no sound.
He called again and more loudly. He said: "I am a Texan; if you are a
friend, say so!" No one would mistake his voice for that of a Mexican.
No reply came from behind the tree.
Ned was annoyed. This was most puzzling and he did not like puzzles.
Moreover, his situation was dangerous. If he left his tree, the man
behind the other one--and he did not doubt now that he was an
enemy--could probably take a shot at him.
He tried every maneuver that he knew to draw the shot, while he yet lay
in ambush, but none succeeded. His wary enemy knew every ruse. Had it
not been for the shadowy head, yet visible in the moonlight, Ned might
have concluded that he had gone. He had now been behind the tree a full
half hour, and during all that time he had not heard a single sound from
his foe. The singular situation, so unusual in its aspect, and so real
in its danger, began to get upon his nerves.
He thought at last of something which he believed would draw the fire of
the ambushed Mexican. He carried a pistol as well as a rifle, and,
carefully laying the cocked rifle by his side, he drew the smaller
weapon. Then he crept about the tree, purposely making a little noise.
He saw the shadowy head move, and he knew that his enemy was seeking a
shot. He heard for the first time a slight sound, and he could tell from
it exactly where the man lay.
Raising his pistol he fired, and the bark flew from the right side of
the tree. A man instantly sprang out, rifle in hand, and rushed toward
him expecting to take him, unarmed. Like a flash Ned seized his own
cocked rifle and covered the man. When he looked down the sights he saw
that it was Urrea.
Urrea halted, taken by surprise. His own rifle was not leveled, and Ned
held his life at his gun muzzle.
"Stop, Don Francisco, or I fire," said the boy. "I did not dream that it
was you, and I am sorry that I was wrong."
Urrea recovered very quickly from his surprise. He did not seek to raise
his rifle, knowing that it was too late.
"Well," he said, "why don't you fire?"
"I don't know," replied Ned.
"I would do it in your place."
"I know it, but there is a difference between us and I am glad of that
difference, egotistical as it may sound."
"There is another difference which perhaps you do not have in mind. You
are a Texan, an American, and I am a Mexican. That is why I came among
you and claimed to be one of you. You were fools to think that I,
Francisco Urrea, could ever fight for Texas against Mexico."
"It seems that we were," said Ned.
Urrea laughed somewhat scornfully.
"There are some Mexicans born here in Texas who are so foolish," he
said, "but they do not know Mexico. They do not know the greatness of
our nation, or the greatness of Santa Anna. What are your paltry numbers
against us? You will fail here against San Antonio, and, even if you
should take the town, Santa Anna will come with a great army and destroy
you. And then, remember that there is a price to be paid. Much rope
will be used to good purpose in Texas."
"You have eaten our bread, you have received kindness from us, and yet
you talk of executions."
"I ate your bread, because it was my business to do so. I am not ashamed
of anything that I have done. I do not exaggerate, when I say that I
have rendered my nation great service against the Texan rebels. It was I
who brought them against you more than once."
"I should not boast of it. I should never pretend to belong to one side
in war and work for another."
"Again there is a difference between us. Now, what do you purpose to do?
I am, as it were, your prisoner, and it is for you to make a beginning."
Ned was embarrassed. He was young and he could not enforce all the
rigors of war. He knew that if he took Urrea to the camp the man would
be executed as a spy and traitor. The Mexicans had already committed
many outrages, and the Texans were in no forgiving mood. Ned could not
forget that this man had broken bread with his comrades and himself, and
once he had liked him. Even now his manner, which contained no fear nor
cringing, appealed to him.
"Go," he said at last, "I cannot take your life, nor can I carry you to
those who would take it. Doubtless I am doing wrong, but I do not know
what else to do."
"Do you mean that you let me go free?"
"I do. You cannot be a spy among us again, and as an open enemy you are
only as one among thousands. Of course you came here to-night to spy
upon us, and it was an odd chance that brought us together. Take the
direction of San Antonio, but don't look back. I warn you that I shall
keep you covered with my rifle."
Urrea turned without another word and walked away. Ned watched him for
a full hundred yards. He noticed that the man's figure was as trim and
erect as ever. Apparently, he was as wanting in remorse as he was in
fear.
When Urrea had gone a hundred yards Ned turned and went swiftly back to
the camp. He said nothing about the incident either to Obed or the Ring
Tailed Panther. The next day Urrea was crowded from his mind by exciting
news. A sentinel had hailed at dawn three worn and unkempt Texans who
had escaped from San Antonio, where they had long been held prisoners by
Cos. They brought word that the Mexican army was disheartened. The heavy
reinforcements, promised by Santa Anna, had not come.
A great clamor for an immediate attack arose. The citizen army gathered
in hundreds around the tent of Burleson, the leader, and demanded that
they be led against San Antonio. Fannin and Milam were there, and they
seconded the demands of the men. Ned stood on the outskirts of the
crowd. The Ring Tailed Panther on one side of him uttering a succession
of growls, but Obed on the other was silent.
"It looks like a go this time," said Ned.
"I think it is," said Obed, "and if it isn't a go now it won't be one at
all. Waiting wears out the best of men."
The Ring Tailed Panther continued to growl.
A great shout suddenly arose. The Panther ceased to growl and his face
beamed. Burleson had consented to the demand of the men. It was quickly
arranged that they should attack San Antonio in the morning, and risk
everything on the cast.
The short day--it was winter now--was spent in preparations. Ned and his
comrades cleaned their rifles and pistols and provided themselves with
double stores of ammunition. Ned did not seek to conceal from himself,
nor did the men seek to hide from him the greatness and danger of their
attempt.
"They outnumber us and they hold a fortified town," said Obed. "Whatever
we do we three must stick together. In union there is often safety."
"We stick as long as we stand," said the Ring Tailed Panther. "If one
falls the other two must go on, an', if two fall, the last must go on as
long as he can."
"Agreed," said Ned and Obed.
They were ready long before night, but after dark an alarming story
spread through the little army. Part of it at least proved to be true.
One of the scouts, sent out after the decision to attack had been taken,
had failed to come in. It was believed that he had deserted to the
Mexicans with news of the intended Texan advance. The leaders had
counted upon surprise, as a necessary factor in their success, and
without it they would not advance. Gloom settled over the army, but it
was not a silent gloom. These men spoke their disappointment in words
many and loud. Never had the Ring Tailed Panther roared longer, without
taking breath.
The Texans were still talking angrily about the fires, when another
shout arose. The missing scout came in and he brought with him a Mexican
deserter, who confirmed all the reports about the discouragement of the
garrison. Once more, the Texans crowded about Burleson's tent, and
demanded that the attack be made upon San Antonio. At last Burleson
exclaimed:
"Well, if you can get volunteers to attack, go and attack!"
Milam turned, faced the crowd and raised his hand.
There was a sudden hush save for the deep breathing of many men. Then
in a loud, clear voice Milam spoke only ten words. They were:
"Who will go with old Ben Milam into San Antonio?"
And a hundred voices roared a single word in reply. It was:
"I!"
"That settles it," said the Ring Tailed Panther with deep satisfaction.
"Old Satan himself couldn't stop the attack now."
The word was given that the volunteers for the direct attack, three
hundred in number, would gather at an old mill half way between the camp
and the town. Thence they would march on foot for the assault. Ned and
his comrades were among the first to gather at the mill and he waited as
calmly as he could, while the whole force was assembled, three hundred
lean, brown men, large of bone and long of limb.
No light was allowed, and the night was cold. The figures of the men
looked like phantoms in the dusk. Ned stood with his friends, while
Milam gave the directions. They were to be divided into two forces. One
under Milam was to enter the town by the street called Acequia, and the
other under Colonel Johnson was to penetrate by Soledad Street. They
relied upon the neglect of the Mexicans to get so far, before the battle
began. Burleson, with the remainder of his men would attack the ancient
mission, then turned into a fort, called the Alamo.
"Deaf" Smith, who knew the town thoroughly, led Johnson's column, and
Ned, Obed and the Ring Tailed Panther were just behind him.
Ned was quivering in every nerve with excitement and suspense, but he
let no one see it. He moved forward with steady step and he heard behind
him the soft tread of the men who intended to get into San Antonio
without being seen. He looked back at them. They came in the dusk like
so many shadows and no one spoke. It was like a procession of ghosts,
moving into a sleeping town. The chill wind cut across their faces, but
no one at that moment took notice of cold.
High over Ned's head a great star danced and twinkled, and it seemed to
him that it was the Texan Star springing out.
The houses of the town rose out of the darkness. Ned saw off to right
and left fresh earthworks and rifle pits, but either no men were
stationed there or they slept. The figure of Smith led steadily on and
behind came the long and silent file. How much farther would they go
without being seen or heard? It seemed amazing to Ned that they had come
so far already.
They were actually at the edge of the town. Now they were in it, going
up the narrow Soledad Street between the low houses directly toward the
main plaza, which was fortified by barricades and artillery. A faint
glimmer of dawn was just beginning to appear in the east.
A dusky figure suddenly appeared in the street in front of them and gave
a shout of alarm. "Deaf" Smith fired and the man fell. A bugle pealed
from the plaza and a cannon was fired down the street, the ball
whistling over the heads of the Texans. In an instant the garrison of
Cos was awake, and the alarm sounded from every point of San Antonio.
Lights flashed, arms rattled and men called to one another.
"Into this house" cried "Deaf" Smith. "We cannot charge up the narrow
street in face of the cannon!"
They were now within a hundred yards of the plaza, but they saw that the
guide was right. They dashed into the large, solid house that he had
indicated, and Ned did not notice until he was inside that it was the
very house of the Vice-Governor, Veramendi, into which he had come once
before. Just as the last of the Texans sprang through the doors another
cannon ball whistled down the street, this time low enough. Milam's
division, meanwhile, had rushed into the house of De La Garcia, near by.
As Ned and the others sprang to cover he trampled upon the flowers in a
patio, and he saw a little fountain playing. Then he knew. It was the
house of Veramendi, and he thought it a singular chance that had brought
him to the same place. But he had little time for reflection. The column
of Texans, a hundred and fifty in number, were taking possession of
every part of the building, the occupants of which had fled through the
rear doors.
"To the roof!" cried "Deaf" Smith. "We can best meet the attack from
there."
The doors and windows were already manned, but Smith and many of the
best men rushed to the flat roof, and looked over the low stone coping.
It was not yet day and they could not see well. Despite the lack of
light, the Mexicans opened a great fire of cannon and small arms. The
whole town resounded with the roar and the crash and also with the
shouting. But most of the cannon balls and bullets flew wide, and the
rest spent themselves in vain on the two houses.
The Texans, meanwhile, held their fire, and waited for day. Ned, Smith
and the others on the roof lay down behind the low coping. They had
achieved their long wish. They were in San Antonio, but what would
happen to them there?
Ned peeped over the coping. He saw many flashes down the street toward
the plaza and he heard the singing of bullets. His finger was on the
trigger and the temptation to reply was great, but like the others he
waited.
The faint light in the east deepened and the sun flashed out. The full
dawn was at hand and the two forces, Texans and Mexicans, faced each
other.