A BAFFLED PURSUIT.
Those were dark days for Texas. Too many of the white settlers were
new arrivals, who as yet were in a strange country and had not made up
their minds as to what leadership they would trust. There was, indeed,
a strong central body of veterans who rallied around Sam Houston and
General Austin. They were the right men for a battle-field, but they
had very little ready money.
Thus far, in fact, very nearly the best protection for the young
republic had been given by the disordered condition of public affairs
in Mexico. At last, however, the ablest man south of the Rio Grande,
General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, had so completely subdued the
several factions opposed to his supremacy that he deemed it safe for
him to lead an army for the recovery of the rebellious province at the
north.
There were those who said that in so doing he ran a serious risk of
losing whatever he might leave behind him, especially in case of a
defeat, but the pride of the Mexican people had been aroused and there
was a clamorous demand for action.
There had all the while been war, in a scattering aimless way, and
there had been threatening embassies, like that recently accomplished
by Bravo.
How to invade Texas, nevertheless, was a question to puzzle an invader.
There were not many points or places in the vast area the Americans
were seizing that were of military value. An invading army would but
waste its time in marching around or in camping on the prairies. It
must find a Texan army and defeat it or go home useless.
One of the few points of importance, in most men's opinion, was the
Alamo fort, but it was really little more than a convenient
rallying-place. Apart from that, a scientific general would have said
that it was nothing but a piece of ground which had been walled in. It
was worth blockading, perhaps, but it was not worth a hard fight.
The Texans themselves did not think so, nor did the Mexicans. To the
Texans it had a certain value as a stronghold, and they took much pride
in it on that account. The Mexican generals were possessed with an
idea that it was Texas itself and that it would be absolutely necessary
to take it.
General Houston, making a careful inspection of the fort and its
surroundings the morning after his arrival, was deeply impressed both
with its importance and its weakness.
"Boys," he said, "if this place had rations enough and powder enough in
it you and Travis could hold it all the year 'round."
"Jesso, gineral," responded a ranger; "but if they fetched big guns,
they could knock them walls to flinders."
The walls looked very strong, and his comrades disagreed with him, but
Houston shook his head and walked to the eighteen-pounder in the middle
of what some of them called the "plaza."
"This would do," he said to himself, "but Santa Anna won't drag in any
guns like this as far as the Alamo. He can't take this fort with
nothing but ranchero lancers and field-guns. I must get some money
somehow and put things in order, but where I'm to get it I don't know."
He went in then to eat his breakfast, and not long afterwards was
riding away, with a sufficient escort to protect him from being
murdered before he could get out of the town of San Antonio de Bexar.
In the dawn of that very morning a cloud of wild horsemen had gathered
upon the open prairie between the sink-hole and the grove where the
little party of Colonel Bowie was believed to be still encamped. That
from it came no sign of life was of no importance whatever to warriors
who knew how perfectly the rangers were skilled in all the cunning of
bush and forest fighting.
A mist had covered the rolls and the hollows, but the smoke of the
camp-fire could be seen. Once a log fell, sending up a shower of
sparks, and Great Bear himself remarked that Big Knife's men were
putting on more wood. He now had with him the greater part of his
force, but every pony was tired, and some of them had given out
entirely.
There was no special reason for haste, excepting the water of the
spring for men and beasts. Perhaps the better way would be to obtain a
parley and induce the Texans to come out of their ambush before
slaughtering them. A little cunning might accomplish that, and so the
Comanches waited.
Of course, the grove was surrounded to prevent any sudden dash for
escape, but shortly after the rising sun began his work upon the mist
the encircling force moved slowly nearer. The main body moved together
until they were about a hundred yards from the outer shrubbery. Then
they halted, and a single brave, a chief of rank, dismounted and went
forward on foot, holding out his right hand with the palm up, in token
of a wish for truce and conference.
The eyes of his band were upon the messenger and he walked steadily,
although all the while believing himself to be covered by the unerring
aim of Texan sharp-shooters. His nerves were very good. No sooner,
however, did he reach the trees than Great Bear and his column moved
forward again.
On strode the solitary herald of peace, or of treachery, but no rifle
cracked, no mustang neighed, no Texan came out of a bush. It was the
strangest affair, to the mind of a man who was absolutely sure that his
enemies were there.
On he marched until he stood by the fire at the spring, and glanced
fiercely around him. It was too much! His hand went to his mouth, and
he uttered a whoop which brought every Comanche within hearing
pell-mell toward the grove.
Such a rush would have been their best chance for crushing Bowie's men
in any case, but the charging warriors found no Texans to crush. Wild
were the whoops of wrath and disappointment, but Great Bear himself was
equal to the occasion. His face expressed strong admiration of such a
feat of generalship, and he said, loudly,--
"Ugh! Big Knife great chief! Getaway heap! Comanche tired now. Find
Texan by and by."
There was no help for it. The only thing to do was to rest and to eat,
for immediate pursuit was out of the question.
Miles and miles away, an hour or so later, in another camping place as
good as the one they had left, the white riflemen also were taking it
easy. They had plenty of buffalo cutlets to broil; they had distanced
their pursuers, and they were contented.
"Boys," remarked Colonel Bowie, "we've gained a whole day's ride on 'em
if we work it right."
"All right, colonel," responded Joe; "but when that young Lipan rid in
last night I begun to wish I was back in the Alamo. My skelp felt
loose."
"He's a buster," remarked Jim Cheyne; "but I'm right down glad his dad
is here. Best guide we could git."
As for Red Wolf himself, he was sitting apart from the rest. After
all, he was only a boy and all these others were distinguished warriors.