 CHAPTER V The three rode a breast, Ned in the center. The boy was on terms of perfect equality with Obed in the panther. They treated him as a man among men and respected his character, rather grave for one so young, and had always been keen to learn. The land rolled away in swells, as usual throughout the great part of Texas, but they were not of much elevation, and the red glow in the south was always in sight, deepening fast as they advanced. They stopped at last on a little elevation within the shadow of some myrtle oaks, and saw the fires spread before them only four or five hundred yards away, and along a line of at least two miles. They heard the confused murmur of many men. The dark outlines of cannon were seen against the firelight, and now and then the musical note of Amanda Lynn or guitar came to them. We was right in our guess, said the panther. It's a lot bigger force than the one that coast led away from San Antonio, and it'll take a heap of ripping and tearing and roaring to turn it back. Our people don't know how much is coming again him. The panther spoke in a solemn tone. Ned saw that he was deeply impressed and that he feared for the future. Good cause had he, squabbles among the Texan leaders had reduced their army to five or six hundred men. Don't you think, said Ned, that we ought to find out just exactly what is here and what this army intends? Not a doubt of it, said Obed, those who have eyes to see should not go away without seeing. The panther nodded violently as an ascent. We must scout about the camp, he said. Maybe we'd better divide and then we can all gather before daybreak to the clump of the trees back there. He pointed to a little cluster of trees, several hundred yards back of them, and Ned and Obed agreed. The panther turned away to the right, Obed to the left, and Ned took the center. Their plan of dividing their force had a great advantage. One man was much less likely than three to attract undue attention. Ned went straight ahead a hundred yards or more when he was stopped by a royal five or six feet wide with very deep banks. He looked about uncertain at first what to do. Obed and the panther had already disappeared in the dusk. Before him glowed the red light, and he heard the distant sound of many voices. Ned quickly decided. He remembered how they'd escaped up the bed of the creek when he rode besieged by Urea, and if one could leave by an orio, one could also approach by it. He rode to the group of trees that had been designated as a place of meeting, and left his horse there. He noticed considerable grass within the ring of trunks, and he was quite confident that old Jack would remain there until his return. But he addressed him in words of admonition. Be sure that you stay among these trees, old friend, he said. Because it's likely that when I want you, I'll want you bad. Remain and attend to this grass. Old Jack went in softly and, after his fashion, rubbed his nose gently against his master's arm. It was sufficient for Ned. He was sure that the horse understood, and leaving him, he went back to the orio, which he entered without hesitation. Ned was well-armed, as everyone had then full need to be. He wore some brero in the Mexican fashion, and flung over his shoulders was a great syrupic, which he had found most useful in the winter. With his perfect knowledge of Spanish and its Mexican variants, he believed that if surprised, he could pass to the Mexican, particularly in the night, and among so many. The orio led straight down toward the plain, upon which the Mexicans were encamped, and when he emerged from it, he saw that the fires, which at the distance looked like one continuous blaze, were scores in number. Many of them were built of buffalo chips, and others of light wood that burned fast. Sentinels were posted here and there, but they kept little watch. Why should they? There was a great Mexican army, and there was certainly no foe amounting to more than a few men without a hundred miles. Ned's heart sank as he beheld the evident extent of the Mexican array. The little Texan force left in the field could be no match for such an army as this. Nevertheless, his resolution to go through the Mexican camp hardened. If he came back with the true and detailed tale of their numbers, the Texans must believe and prepare. He drew the brim of his Zimbrero down a little further and pulled his Serape up to meet it. The habit the Mexicans had of wrapping their Serape so high that they recovered to the nose was fortunate at this time. It was now completely disguised, without the appearance of having taken any unusual precaution. He walked forward boldly and sat down with a group beside a fire. He judged by the fact that they were awake so late, that they had but little to do, and he saw at once also that they were Mexicans from the far south. They were small, dark men, rather amiable in appearance. Two began to play guitars, and they sang a plaintive song to the music. The others, smoking cigarritos, listened attentively and luxuriously. Ned imitated them perfectly. He, too, lying upon his elbow before the pleasant fire, felt the influence of the music. So sweet, so murmurous, speaking so little of war. One of the men handed him a cigarrito, and, lighting it, he made pretense of smoking. He would not have seemed a Mexican had he not smoked the cigarrito. Lying there, Ned saw many tents, evidence of a camp that was not for the day only, and he beheld officers in bright uniforms passing among them. His heart gave a great jump when he noticed among them a heavy set dark man, who was Kos, Kos the breaker of hosts. With him was another officer whose uniform indicated the general. Ned learned later that this was Cezma, who had been dispatched with a brigade by Santa Ana to meet Kos on the Rio Grande, where they were to remain until the dictator himself came with more troops. The music ceased presently, and one of the men said to Ned, What company? Ned had prepared himself for such questions, and he moved his hand vaguely toward the left. Over there, he said. They were fully satisfied, and continued to puff their cigarritos, resting their hands with great content upon pillows made of their saddles and blankets. For a while they said nothing more, happily watching the rings of smoke from their cigarritos rise and melt into the air. Although small and short, they looked hardy and strong. Ned noticed the signs of bustle and expectancy about the camp. Usually Mexicans were asleep at this hour, and he wondered why they lingered, but he did not approach the subject directly. It is a hard march, he said, knowing that these men about him had come a vast distance. Ay, it was, said the man next on his right, Santiago, but it was not Jose. Jose, the second man on the right, replied in the affirmative and with emphasis, Just speak of great truth, Carlos. Such another march I never wish to make. Think of the hundreds and hundreds of miles we have ramped from our warm beds, far in the south across mountains, across barren, windy desters, with the ice and snow beating in our faces, how I shivered, Carlos, and how long I shivered. I thought I should continue shivering all my life, even if I lived to be a hundred, no matter how warmly the sun might shine. The others laughed, and seemed to Ned to snuggle a little closer to the fire, driven by the memory of the icy plains. But it was the wheel of the great Santa Ana, surely the mightiest man of our age, said Carlos. They said that his wrath was terrible when he heard the Texan bandits had taken San Antonio de Bexar. Truly, I am glad that I was not one of his officers, and that I was not in his presence at the time. After all, it is sometimes better to be a common soldier than to have command. I truly, said Ned, and the others nodded in affirmation. But the great Santa Ana, we'll finish it, continued Carlos, who seemed to have the sin of garrulity. He has defeated all his enemies in Mexico. He has consolidated his power, and now he advances with the mighty force to crush these insolent and miserable Texans. As I have said, he will finish it. The rope and bullet will be busy. In six months, there will be no Texans. Ned shivered, and when he looked at the campfires of the great army, he saw that this peon was not talking foolishness. Nevertheless, his mind returned to its original point of interest. Why did the Mexican army remain awake so late? Have you seen the president? He asked of Carlos. Often replied Carlos with pride. I fought under him in the great battle on the plane of Guadalupe less than two years ago, when we defeated Don Francisco Garcia, the governor of Zacateus. Ah, it was a terrible battle, my friends. Thousands and thousands were killed, and all Mexicans, Mexicans killing Mexicans. But who can prevail against the great Santa Ana? He routed the forces of Garcia, and the city of Zacateus was given to us as pillage. Many fine things I took that day from the houses of those who presumed to help the enemy of our leader. But now we care not to kill Mexicans, our own people. It is only the miserable Texans who are really gringos. Carlos, who had been the most amiable of men, basking in the firelight, now rose up a little, and his eyes flashed. He had excired himself by his own tale of the battle in Lute of Zacateus, and the coming slaughter of the Texans. That strain of cruelty, which in Ned's opinion always lay embedded in the Spanish character, was coming to the surface. Ned made no comment. His Serape, drawn up to his nose, almost met the brim of his sombrero, and nobody suspected that the comrade who sat and chatted with them was a gringo. But he shivered again, nevertheless. We shall have a great force when it is all gathered, he said at length. Seven thousand or more, said Jose proudly, and nearly all of them are veterans of the wars. We shall have ten times the number of the Texans, who are only hunters and rancheros. Have you heard when we march? asked Ned in a careless tone. As soon as the great Santa Ana arrives, it will be decided. I doubt not, said Jose. The general in his escort should be here by midnight. Ned's heart gave a leap, so it was that for which they were waiting. Santa Ana himself would come in an hour or two. He was very glad that he had entered the Mexican camp, bidding a courteous good night to the men about the fire he rose and sauntered on. It was easy enough for him to do so without attracting attention, as many others were doing the same thing. Discipline seldom amounted to much in a Mexican army, and so confident were both officers and soldiers of an overwhelming victory that they preserved scarcely any at all. Yet the expectant feeling pervaded the whole camp, and now that he knew that Santa Ana was coming, he understood. Santa Ana was the greatest man in the world to these soldiers. He had triumphed over everything in their own country. He had exhibited qualities of daring and energy that seemed to them supreme, and his impression upon them was overwhelming. Ned felt once more that little shiver. They might be right in their view of the Texan War. He strolled on from fire to fire until his attention was arrested suddenly by one at which the only officer sat. It was not so much a group as it was among among them who drew his notice so strongly. Ureah was sitting at the far side of the fire, every feature thrown into clear relief by the bright flames. The other officers were young men about his own age, and they were playing dice. They're evidently in high good humor as they laughed frequently. Ned lay down just within the shadow of a tent wall, drew his syrup a higher about his face, and rested his head upon his arm. He would have seemed to sound asleep to an ordinary observer, but he was never more wide awake in his life. He was near enough to hear what Ureah and his friends were saying, and he intended to hear it, for such was that he had come. You lose, Francisco, said one of the men who made a throw of the dice and looked eagerly at the result. What was it that you were saying about the general? That I expect an early advance to Ramon, replied Ureah. A brief campaign and a complete victory. I hate these Texans. I shall be glad to see them annihilated. The young officer whom he called Ramon laughed. If what I hear be a throw, Francisco, he said, you have caused to hate them. There's a boy, Fulton, what wild buffalo of a man, whom they called a panther, and another who defeated some of your finest plans. Ureah flushed but controlled his temper. He did throw Ramon, he replied. The third man I can tell you was called Obed White. They are a clever three. I hate them, but he's hurt my pride less to be defeated by them than by any others whom I know. We'll spoken, Ureah, said the third man, but since these three are fighters and will stay to meet us, it is a certainty that our general will scoop them into his net. Then you can have all the revenge you wish. I count upon it, Ambrosio, said Ureah, smiling. I also hope that we shall recapture the man Royalston. He has great sums of money in the foreign banks of our country, and we need them, but our illustrious president cannot get them without an order from Royalston. The general would rather have Royalston than a thousand Texas prisoners. All of them laughed, and the laugh made Ned, lying in the shadow, shiver once more. Ureah glanced his way presently, but the recumbent figure did not claim his notice. The attention of his comrades in himself became absorbed in the dice again. They were throwing the little ivory cubes upon a blanket, and Ned could hear them click as they struck together. The sharp little sound began to flick his nerves. Not one to cherish resentment, he nevertheless began to hate Ureah, and he included that not hatred the young men with him. The Texans were so few and poor. The Mexicans were so many, and they had the resources of a nation more than two centuries old. Ned rose by and by and walked on. He could imitate the Mexican gate perfectly, and no one paid any attention to him. They were absorbed more over in something else, because now the light of torches could be seen dimly in the south. Officers threw down cards and dice, meds straightened their uniforms, and coasts and sesma began to form companies in line. More fuel was thrown on the fires, which sprang up, suffusing all the night with color and brightness. Ned, with his rifle at salute, fell into place at the end of one of the companies, and no one knew that he did not belong there. In the excitement of the moment, he forgot all about the panther and Obed. A thrill seemed to run through the whole Mexican force. It was the most impressive scene that Ned had ever to be held. A leader omnipotent in their eyes was coming to these men, and he came at midnight out of the dark into the light. The torches grew brighter. A trumpet peeled and a trumpet in the camp replied. The Mexican lines became silent safe for a deep murmur. In the south, they heard the rapid beat of hoofs, and then Santa Ana came, galloping at the head of 50 horsemen. Many of the younger officers ran forward, holding up their torches, and the dictator rode in a blaze of light. Ned looked once more upon that dark and singular face, a face daring and cruel that it might have belonged to one of his old conquistadors. In a saddle, his lack of height was concealed, but on the great white horse that he rode, Ned felt that he was imposing even a terrible figure. His eyes were blazing with triumph as his army united with torches to do his honor. It was like Napoleon on the night before Austerlitz, and what was he but the Napoleon of the new world. His figure swelled and the gold braid on his cocked hash and gorgeous uniform reflected the beams of the firelight. A mighty cheer from thousands of throats ran along the Mexican line, and the torches were waved until they looked like vast circles of fire. Santa Ana lifted his hat and bowed three times in salute. Again, the Mexican cheer rolled to right and to left. Santa Ana, still sitting on his horse, spread out his hands. There was an instant silence safe for the deep breathing of the men. My children, he said, we have come to sweep away these miserable Texans who have dared to raise the rebel flag against us. We will punish them all, Houston, Austin, Bowie, and the rest of their leaders shall feel our justice. When we finish our march over the Paris, it shall be as if a great fire had passed. I have said it. I am Santa Ana. A thunderous cheer broke forth again. Ned had never before heard words so full of conceit and vain glory. Yet the strength and menace were there. He felt it instinctively. Santa Ana believed himself to be the greatest man in the world, and it was certainly the greatest in Mexico. His belief in himself was based upon a deep well of energy and daring. Once more, Ned felt a great and terrible fear for Texas and the thin line of skin-clad hunters and ranchmen who were at sole defense. But the feeling passed as he watched Santa Ana. A young officer rushed forward and held his stirrup as a dictator dismounted. Then the generals, including those who had come with him, crowded around him. It was a brilliant company, including Sezma, Kos, Duke, Castrion, Tulsa, Geona, and others among whom Ned noted a man of decidedly Italian appearance. This was general Vincenti Filiosa, an Italian officer who had received a huge grant of land in Texas and who was now second in command to Santa Ana. Ned watched them as they talked together, and occasionally the crowd parted enough for him to see Santa Ana, who spoke and just circulated with great energy. The soldiers had been drawn away by the minor officers and were now dispersing to their places by the fires where they would seek sleep. Ned noticed a trim slender figure on the outer edge of the group around Santa Ana. It seemed familiar, and when the man turned, he recognized the face of Almonte, the gallant young Mexican colonel who had been kind to him. He was sorry to see him there. He was sorry that he should have to fight against him. Santa Ana went presently to a great marquet that had been prepared for him, and the other generals retired also to the tents that had been set about. The dictator was tired from his long ride. It must not be disturbed. Strict orders were given that there should be no noise in the camp, and it quickly sank into silence. Ned lay down before one of the fires at the western end of the camp, wrapped as before in his sorope. He counterfeited sleep, but nothing was further from his mind. It seemed to him that he had done all he could do in the Mexican camp. He had seen the arrival of Santa Ana, but there was no way to learn when the general would order in advance. He could infer from Santa Ana's well-known energy and ability that it would come quickly. Between the slit left by the brim of his sombrero and his sorope, he watched the great fires die slowly. Most of the Mexicans were asleep now, and their figures were growing indistinct in the shadows. But Ned, rising, slouched forward, imitating the gate of the laziest of the Mexicans. Yet his eyes were always watching shrewdly through the slit. Very little escaped his notice. He went along the entire Mexican line and then back again. He had a good mathematical mind, and he saw that the estimate of 7,000 for the Mexican army was not too few. He also saw many cannon and the horses for a great cavalry force. He knew too that Santa Ana had with him the best regiments in the Mexican service. On his last trip along the line, Ned began to look for the panther and obed, but he saw no figures resembling theirs, although he was quite sure that he would know the panther in any disguise, owing to his great size. This circumstance would make it more dangerous for the panther than for either Obed or himself. As Ureya, if he should see so large a man, would suspect that it was none other than the redoubtable frontiersman. Ned was thinking of this danger to the panther when he came face to face with Ureya himself. The young Mexican captain was not lacking in vigilance and energy. And even at that late hour, he was seeing that all was well in the camp of Santa Ana. Ned was truly thankful now that Mexican custom and the coldness of the night permitted him to cover his face with his surrape and the brim of his sombrero. Why are you walking here? demanded Ureya. I've just taken a message to General Castor Leon, replied Ned. He had learned already that Castor Leon had commanded the artillery and he was at least a mile away. He thought that this was the safest reply. From whom? asked Ureya shortly. Pardon, sir, replied Ned in his best Spanish, disguising his voice as much as possible. I am not allowed to tell. Ned's tone was courteous and apologetic and in ninety nine cases out of a hundred, Ureya would have contended himself with an impatient word or two. But he was in a most vicious temper. Perhaps he had been rebuked by Santa Ana for allowing the rescue of Royston. Why don't you speak up? exclaimed. Why do you mumble your words and why do you stand in such a slouching manner? Remember that a soldier should stand up straight. Yes, my captain. said Ned, but he did not change his attitude. The tone and manner of Ureya angered him. He forgot where he was in his danger. Ureya's swarly face flushed. He carried in his hand a small riding whip, which he switched occasionally across the tops of his tall military boots. Note, he cried. Do you hear me? Why do you not obey? Ned stood in passive. Certainly, Ureya had had a bad half hour somewhere. His temper leaped beyond control. Idiot, exclaimed. Then he suddenly lashed Ned across the face with a little riding whip. The blow fell on Serapa and Sembrero, and the flesh was not touched. But for a few moments, Ned went mad. He dropped his rifle, leaped upon the astonished officer, wrenched the rip from his hands, slashed him across the cheeks with it until the blood ran its strings, then broke it into and threw the pieces in his face. Ned's Serapa fell away. Ureya had clasped his hands to his cheeks that stung like fire. But now he recognized the boy. Foulton, he cried. The sharp exclamation brought Ned to a realization of his danger. He seized his rifle, pulled up the Serapa and sprang back. Already Mexican soldiers were gathering. It was truly fortunate for Ned that he was quick of thought and that his thoughts came quickest when the danger was greatest. He knew that the cry of Foulton was unintelligible to them, and he exclaimed, save me, homerods. He tried to beat me without cause and now you'll kill me as you see. Ureya had drawn a pistol and was shouting fiery Mexican oaths. The soldiers, some of them just awakened from sleep and all of them dazed and gathered in a huddle, but they opened to let Ned pass. Excessive and cruel punishment was common among them. A man might be flogged half to death at the whim of an officer and instinctively they protected their comrade. As the Mexican group closed up behind him and between him and Ureya, Ned ran at top speed toward the west where the arroyo cut across the plane. More Mexicans were gathering and there was great confusion. Everybody was asking what was the matter. The boy's quick wit did not desert him. There was safety and ignorance and the multitude. He quickly dropped to a walk and he too began to ask of others what had caused the trouble. All the while he worked steadily toward the arroyo and soon he left behind him the lights and the shouting. He now came into the dark, passed beyond the Mexican lines and entered the cut in the earth down which he had come. He was compelled to sit down on the sand and relax. He was exhausted by the great effort of both mind and body which he'd carried him through so much danger. His heart was beating heavily and he felt dizzy but his eyes cleared presently and his strength came back. He considered himself safe and the darkness it was not likely that any of the Mexicans would stumble upon him. He thought of the panther in Obed but he could do nothing for them. He must trust in meeting them again that the police appointed. He looked at the Mexican camp. The fires had burned up again there for a minute or two but as he looked they sank once more. The noise also decreased. Evidently they were giving up the pursuit. Ned rose and walked slowly up the arroyo. He became aware that the night was very cold and it told on his relaxed frame. He pulled up his sorape again and now it was for warmth and not for disguise. He stopped at intervals to search the darkness with his eyes and to listen for noises. He might meet with an enemy or he might meet with one of his friends. He was prepared for either. He could regain control of himself both body and mind and his ready rifle rested in the hollow of his arm. He met neither. He heard nothing but the usual sighing of the prairie wind that ceased rarily and he saw nothing but the faint glow on the southern horizon that marked the Mexican camp where he had met his enemy. He left the arroyo and saw a dark shadow on the plane. The figure of a man rifle in hand. Ned instantly sprang back into the arroyo and the stranger did the same. A curve in the line of this cut in the earth now hid them from each other and Ned, his body pressed against the bank, waited with beating heart. He had no doubt that this was a Mexican sentinel or scout more vigilant than the others and he felt his danger. Ned and this crisis used the utmost caution. He did not believe that any other would come and it must be a test of patience between him and his enemy. Whoever showed his head first would be likely to lose in the duel of life. He pressed himself closer and closer against the bank and sought to detect some movement of the stranger. He saw nothing and he did not hear a sound. It seemed that the man had absolutely vanished into space. It occurred to Ned that it might have been a mere figment of the dusk and his excited brain, but he quickly dismissed the idea. He had seen the man and he had seen him leap into the arroyo. There could be no doubt of it. There was another long wait and the suspense became acute. The man was surely on the other side of that curve waiting for him. He was held fast. He was almost as much a prisoner as if he lay bound in the Mexican camp. It seemed to him too that the darkness was thinning a little. It would soon be day and then he could not escape the notice of horsemen from Santa Ana's army. He decided that he must risk in advance and he began creeping forward cautiously. He remembered now what he had forgotten in the first moments of the meeting. He might yet, even before the Sentinel or Scout passed as a Mexican. He stopped suddenly when he heard the low whistle in front of him. Well, it could be heard by a short distance. It was singularly sweet. It formed the first bars of an old tomb. The world turned upside down and Ned promptly recognized it. The whistle stopped in a moment or two but Ned took up the air and continued it for a few bars more. Then, all apprehension gone, he sprang out of the arroyo and stood up on the bank. Another figure was projected from the arroyo and stood up on the bank facing him, not more than 20 feet away. Simultaneously, Obed White and Edward Fulton advanced shook hands and left. You've kept me here waiting in this gully for at least half an hour, said Obed. Time and I, we did long on you. But no longer than I waited on you, said Ned. Why didn't you think of whistling the tune sooner? Why didn't you? They laughed and shook hands again. At any rate, we're here together again safe and unharmed, said Ned. And now to see what has become of the panther. You'd better be looking out for yourselves instead of the panther. Proud of the voice as a gigantic figure upheaved itself from the arroyo eight or 10 yards behind them. I could have picked you both off while you were standing there shaking hands and neither of you would have ever known what struck him. The panther, they exclaimed joyously and they shook hands with him also. And now, said the panther, it will soon be day. We'd better make for our horses and then clear out. We can tell about what we've seen and done when we're two or three miles away. They found the horses safe in the brushwood, old Jack welcoming Ned with a soft winny. They were in the saddle at once, rode swiftly northward and none of them spoke for a half hour. When a faint tinge of gray appeared on the eastern rim of the world, the panther said, my tail's short. I couldn't get into the camp cause I'm too big. The very first fellow I saw looked at me with suspicion painted all over him. So I had to keep back in the darkness. But I saw it was a mighty big army that can do a lot of rippin' and turnin' and showin'. I got into the camp, said Obed, after a minute of silence. But as I'm not much built like a Mexican, being eight or 10 inches too tall, men were looking at me as if I were a strange specimen. One touch of difference in all the world staring at you. So I concluded that I'd better stay on the outside of the lines. I hung around and I saw just what the panther saw. No more, no less. Then I started back and I struck the arroyo, which seemed to me a good way for leaving. But before I had gone far, I concluded I was followed. So I watched the fellow who was following and the fellow who was following watched me for about a year. The watch was just over when you came up, panther. It was long, but it's a long watch that has no ending. And I, said Ned, after another wait of a minute, being neither so tall as Obed nor so big around as the panther, was able to go about to the Mexican camp without any notice being taken of me. I saw Santa Anna arrive to take the chief command. Santa Anna himself, exclaimed the panther. Yes, Santa Anna himself. They gave him a great reception. After a while, I started to come away. I met Arreya. He took me for pion, gave me an order. And when I didn't obey it, he tried to strike me across the face with a whip. What'd you do? exclaimed the two men together. I took the whip away from him and lashed his cheeks with it. I was recognized, but in the turmoil and confusion, I escaped. Then I had an encounter with Obed White, which he has told already. Since Santa Anna has come, said the panther, they're likely to move at any moment. We'll ride straight for the cabin and the boys. End of chapter five, recording by Edmunds. Chapter six of the Texan Scouts. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Edmunds. The Texan Scouts by Joseph A. Outscheller. Chapter six. Evidently, the horses had found considerable grass through the night as they were fresh and strong and the miles fell fast behind them. At the gate at which they were going, they would reach the cabin that night. Meanwhile, they made plans. Little force would divide and messengers would go to San Antonio, Harrisburg and other points with the news that Santa Anna was advancing with an immense force. And every one of the three knew that the need was great. They knew how divided councils that scattered the little Texan army. At San Antonio, the most important point of all, the town that they had triumphantly taken from a much greater force of Mexicans, there were practically no men and that undoubtedly was Santa Anna's destination. Unconsciously, they began to urge their horses to great and yet greater speed until the Panther recalled them to prudence. Slower boys, slower, he said. We mustn't run our horses out at the start. And there's a second reason for pulling down, said Ned. Since there's somebody else on the plane, his uncommon eyesight had already detected before the others, the strange presence. He pointed toward the east. Do you see that black speck there where the sky touches the ground, he said? If you'll watch it, you'll see that it's moving. And look, there's another, and another, and another. The Panther and Obed now saw the black specks also. The three stopped on the crest of a swell and watched them attentively. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, 10, 11, 12, 13. Kind of the farsighted boy. And them 13 specks are 13 men on horseback, continued the Panther. And now I wonder who in the name of the Great Hornspoon they are. Suppose we see, said Obed. All things are revealed to him who looks, at least most of the time. It is true that there are more than four to our one, but our horses are swift and we can get away. That's right, said the Panther. Still, we ought to take the risk unless everybody's willing. What do you say, Ned? I'll reply, yes, of course, said the boy, especially as I have an idea that those are not Mexicans. They look too big and tall and they sit too straight up in their saddles for Mexicans. Them ideas of yours are catching, said the Panther. Them fellers may be Mexicans, but they don't look like Mexicans. They don't act like Mexicans and they ain't Mexicans. Take out what isn't and you have left what is, said Obed. We'll soon see, said Ned. A few minutes more and there could be no further doubt that the 13 were Texans or Americans. One rode a little ahead of the others who came on an uneven line. They were mounted on large horses, but the man in front held Ned's attention. The leader was tall and thin, but evidently muscular and powerful. His hair was straight and black like an Indian's. His features were angular and tanned by the winds of many years. His body was clothed completely in buckskin and a raccoon skin cap was on his head. Across his shoulder lay a rifle with a barrel of unusual length. Never saw any of them before, said the Panther. Or the great horned spoon, who can that filler in front be? He looks like somebody. The little band rode closer and its leader held up his hand as a sign of amity. Good friends, he said in a deep, clear voice. We don't have very close neighbors out here and that makes a meetin' old Pleasanter. You are Texans, I guess. You guess right, said the Panther in the same friendly tone and you are Texans too. That point might be debated, replied the man in a whimsical tone and after a long dispute, neither I nor my partners here could say which was right and which was wrong. But while we may not be Texans, yet we will be right away. His eyes twinkled as he spoke and Ed suddenly felt a strong liking for him. He was not young and despite his buckskin dress and careless grammar, there was something of the man of the world about him but he seemed to have a certain boyishness of spirit that appealed strongly to Ned. I suppose, he continued, that a baptism will make us genuine Texans and it appears likely to me that we'll get the most lasting of all baptisms, a baptism of fire, but me and Betsy here can stand ready for it. He patted lovingly the stock of his long rifle as he spoke the word Betsy. It was the same word Betsy that gave Ned his sudden knowledge. I'm thinkin' that you are Davy Crockett, he said. The man's face was illumined with an inimitable smile. Correct, he said, no more, no less. Andy Jackson kept me from goin' back to Washington and so me and these 12 good friends of mine Tennesseans like myself have come here to help free Texas. He reached out his hand and Ned grasped it. The boy felt a thrill. The name of Davy Crockett was a great one on the Southwest and here he was, face to face, hands gripped with the great borderer. This is Mr. Palmer, known all over Texas as the Panther and Mr. Obed White, once of Maine but now a Texan, said Ned, introducing his friends. Crockett and the Panther shook hands and looked each other squarely in the eye. Seems to me, said Crockett, that you're a man. I was just thinkin' the same of you, said the Panther. And you, said Crockett to Obed White, a man too. They certainly do grow tall where you come from. I'm not as wide as a barn door but it may be long enough to reach the bottom of a well, said Obed modestly. Anyway, thank you for the compliment. Praise from Sir Davy is sweet music in my ear indeed and since we Texans have to stand together and since to stand together we must know about one another. May I ask you, Mr. Crockett, which way you are going? We had an idea that we would go to San Antonio, said Crockett. But I'm never above change in my opinion. If you think it better to go somewhere else then prove it. My me and Betsy and the whole crowd are ready to go there instead. What would you say? That's the Panther. If we told you that Santa Anna and 7,000 men were on the Rio Grande ready to march on San Antonio. If you said it, I'd say it was true. I'd also say that it was a thing the Texans had better consider. If I was using adjectives, I'd call it a lamin. And what would you say if I told you there wasn't a hundred Texan soldiers in San Antonio to meet them 7,000 Mexicans coming under Santa Anna? If you told me that, I'd say it was true. I'd say also if I was using adjectives that it was most powerful a lamin. They're having sake, Mr. Panther. The state of affairs ain't so bad as that, is it? Certainly is, replied the Panther. Ned Fulton here was all through their camp last night. He can talk Mexican and Spanish like lightning and he makes up wonderful. And he saw their whole army. He saw old Santa Anna too, 50 or 100 generals all covered in gold lace. If we don't get a lot of fighting men together and then quick, Texas will be swept clean by a Mexican army, same as if a field had been crossed by millions of locusts. It was obvious that Crockett was impressed deeply by these blunt statements. What do you wish us to do? He asked the Panther. You and your friends come with us. We've got some good men at a cabin in the woods that we can reach tonight. We'll join with them, raise as many more as we can, spread the alarm everywhere and do everything possible for the defense of San Antonio. A good plan, Mr. Panther, said Crockett. You lead the way to this cabin of yours and remember that we're serving under you for the time being. The Panther rode on without another word and the party, now raised from three to 16, followed. Crockett fell in by the sight of Ned and soon showed that he was not averse to talking. A good country, he said, nodding to the landscape, but it ain't like Tennessee. It would take me a long time to get used to the lack of hills and running water in trees which just cover the state of Tennessee. We have them here too, replied Ned, though I admit they're scattered, but it is a great country to fight for. And I see it and we'll have a grand lot of fighting to do, said David Crockett. They continued at a good speed until twilight when they rested their horses in eight of the food that they carried. The night promised to be cold but clear and the crisp air quickened their blood. How much farther is it, asked Crockett, if Ned? 15 or 18 miles, but at the rate we're going we should be there in three hours. We've got a roof, it isn't a big one and we don't know who built it, but it will shelter us all. I ain't complaining of that, rejoined David Crockett. I'm a lover of fresh air and outdoors, but I don't object to a roof in cold weather. Always take your comfort, boy, when it's awful to you. It saves wear and tear. A friendship like that between him and Bowie was established already between Ned and Crockett. Ned's grave in serious manner, the result of the suffering through which he had gone, invariably attracted the attention and liking of those far older than himself. I'll remember your advice, Mr. Crockett, he said. A rest of a half hour for the horses and they started riding rapidly. After a while, they struck the belt of the forest and soon the cabin was not more than a mile away, but the panther who was still in the lead pulled up his horse suddenly. Boys, he exclaimed, did you hear that? Every man stopped his horse also and with an involuntary motion bent forward a little to listen. Then the sound that the panther had heard came again. It was a faint ping of a rifle shot, muffled by the distance. In a moment they heard another and then two more, the sounds came from the direction of their cabin. The boys are attacked, said the panther calmly, and it's just as well that we've come fast. But I can't think who was after him. There were certainly no Mexicans in these parts yesterday. An array could possibly not have got ahead of us with a raid in ban, but at any rate, we'll ride on and soon see. They proceeded with the utmost caution and they heard the faint ping of the rifles a dozen times as they advanced. The nostrils of the panther began to distend and streaks of red appeared on his eyeballs. He was smelling the battle afar and his soul rejoiced. He had spent his whole life amid scenes of danger and this was nature to him. Crockett rode up by his side and he too listened eagerly. He no longer carried Betsy over his shoulder but held the long rifle across the pommel of his saddle, his hand upon hammer and trigger. What do you think it is, panther? He asked. Already he had fallen into the easy familiarity of the frontier. Can't make it out yet, replied the panther. But them shots surely came from the cabin and places about it. Our fellows are besieged but we've got to guess at the besiegers and then I'm likely to guess wrong. They were riding very slowly and presently they heard a dozen shots coming very clearly now. I think we better stop here, said the panther and do a little scouting. If you like it, Mr. Crockett, you and me and Ned will hear will dismount and slip forward and see what's the trouble. Obed will take command of the others and wait in the bushes till we come back with the news. Whatever it is. I'll go with you gladly, said David Crockett. I'm not looking for trouble with a microscope but if trouble gets right in my path, I'm not dodging it. So I say once more, lead on noble panther and if Betsy here must talk, she'll talk. The panther grinned in the dusk. He and David Crockett had instantly recognized congenial souls, each in the other. I can't promise you that there'll be ripping and tearing and roaring and showing all the time. He said. But between you and me, David Crockett, I have an idea that we're not going to any sort of prayer meeting this time of night. No, I'm thinking now, said Crockett. But if there's a scene of turbulence before us, lead on. I'm prepared for my sharing it. The debate may be lively, but I have no doubt that I'll get my chance to speak. There are many ways to attract the attention of the speaker. Pardon me, Mr. Panther, but I fall naturally into the phrases of legislative halls. I remember that you served two terms in Congress at Washington, said the panther. And I'd be there yet if it wasn't for Andy Jackson. I wanted my way to Tennessee politics and he wanted his. He was so stubborn and headstrong that here I am ready to become a statesman in this new Texas, which is fighting for his independence. And what a change from the marble halls in Washington to a knight in the brush on the frontier and now with an unknown enemy before you. They stopped talking now and kneeling down on the thicket began to creep forward. The cabin was not more than four or 500 yards away, but a long silence has exceeded the latest shots. And after an advance of 30 or 40 yards, they lay still for a while. Then they heard two shots ahead of them and saw little pink dots of flame from the exploding gunpowder. It cannot be Mexicans who are besieging the cabin, said Ned. They would shout or make some kind of a noise. We've not heard a thing but rifle shots. Your argument is good, whispered the panther. Look, did you see that figure passing between us and the cabin? I saw it, said Davy Crockett. And although it was but a glimpse in this night, it did not seem to me to be clad in full Christian raiment. I'm quite sure it is not the kind of costume that would be admitted to the galleries of Congress. You're right, doubly right, said the panther. That was an engine you saw, but whatever a Comanche or a Leipen I couldn't tell. The boys are besieged not by Mexicans, but by engines, hark to that. There was a flash from the cabin. A dusky figure in the woods leaped into the air, uttered a desk cry, fell and lay still. And you see, continued the panther and his whisper, the boys in the house are not asleep, dreaming beautiful dreams. Looks to me as if they were watching mighty sharp for them fellers who have broke up their rest. Crack, went a second shot from the house, but there was no answering cry. And they could not tell whether it hid anything. But they soon saw more dark figures flitting through the bushes and their own position grew very precarious. If a band of Indians stumbled upon them, they might be annihilated before they gave their besieged comrades any help. I'll make the motion, Mr. Panther, said Crockett, that you form a speedy plan of action for us. And I trust that our young friend Ned here will second it. I second the motion, said Ned. It is carried unanimously. Now Mr. Panther, we await your will. It is my will that we get back to the rest of the man as soon as we can. I reckon Mr. Crockett, them Tennesseans of yours wouldn't head in the other direction if a fight grew hot. I reckon that wild horses couldn't drag him away, said Crockett, dryly. Then we'll go back and join him to hold a caucus, so to speak. I don't know what a caucus is. It's congressional for a conference. Don't mind these parliamentary expressions of mine, Mr. Panther. They gave me pleasure and they hurt nobody. They reached the Tennesseans without interruptions and the Panther quickly laid his plan before him. They would advance within a quarter of a mile to the cabin, tie their horses in the thicket of the brush, leave four men to guard them and the rest would go forward to help the besieged. Crockett's eyes twinkled when the Panther announced the campaign in a few words. Very good, very good, he said. A steering committee could not have done it better. That also is parliamentary, but I think you understand it. They heard detached shots again and then a long yell. They're Comanches, said the Panther. I know they're crying. I guess there's a lot of them. Ned hoped that the shout did not mean the achieving of some triumph. They reached presently a dense growth of bush and there the horses were tied. Four reluctant Tennesseans remained with them and the rest crept forward. They did not hear any shot after they left the horses and they were within 300 yards of the house. Then an apparition caused all to stop simultaneously. A streak of flames shot above the trees, curved and fell. It was followed by another and another. Ned was puzzled, but the Panther laughed low. This can't be fireworks on election night, said David Crockett. It seems oddly the place for such a display. Their fireworks all right, said the Panther, but it's not election night. You're correct about that part of it. Look, there goes the fourth and the fifth. Two more streaks of flame curved and fell. Ned and Crockett were still puzzled. Them's burning errors, said the Panther. It's an old trick of the engines. If they had time enough, they'd be sure to set the cabin on fire and then from ambush, they'd shoot the people as they ran out. But what we're here for is to stop that little game of theirs. The flight of the errors enable us to locate the spot from which they come and there we'll find the Comanches. They crept forward to the point which the lighted arrows were flying and peering from the thicket, saw a score or more of Comanches gathered in the bushes and under the trees. One of the tenant scenes, seeking a better position, caused a loud rustling and the alert Comanches, instantly taking alarm, turned their attention to the point from which the sound had come. Fire boys, fire at once, cried the Panther. A deadly volley was poured into the Comanche Band. The Indians replied but were soon compelled to give way. The Panther, raising his voice, shouted in tremendous tones, Rescue, rescue, we're here boys. The defenders of the cabin, hearing the volleys and shouts of their friends, opened the door and rushed out of the cabin, rifle in hand. Caught between two forces, the Comanches gave up and rushed to the plane where they had left their ponies. Jumping on the backs of these, they fled like the wind. The two victorious parties met and shook hands. Well, mighty glad to see you, Panther, said Fields grinning. You don't look like an angel, but you have talk one. And I'm sure you've brought a lot of new angels with you. Yes, replied the Panther with some pride in his voice. And the first of the angels is Davey Crockett. Mr. Crockett, Mr. Fields. The men crowded around to shake hands with the renowned Davey. Meanwhile, a small party brought the four Tennesseans and the horses. Fortunately, the Comanches had fled in the other direction, but it was not all joy in the Texan camp. Two silent figures covered with syrapes were stretched on the floor of the cabin and several others had wounds, although they had borne their parts in the fighting. Tell us how it happened, said the Panther, after they had set sentinels in the forest. They attacked us about an hour after dark, replied Fields. We knew that no Mexicans were near, but we never thought of Indians raiding this far to the eastward. Some of the men were outside looking after jerked meat when they suddenly opened fire from the bush. Two of the boys, Campbell and Hudson, were hurt so badly that they died after they were helped into the house by the others. The Comanches tried to rush in with our own men, but we drove them off and we could have held the cabin against them forever if they hadn't begun to shoot the burning arrows. Then you came. Campbell and Hudson were buried. Ned had been welcomed warmly by Allen and the two boys compared notes. Fields' face glowed when he heard of Ned's adventures within the Mexican line. I never coulda done it, he said. I couldn't have kept steady enough when one crisis after another came along. I suppose this means, of course, that we must try to meet Santa Ana in some way. What do you think we can do, Ned? I don't know, but just to present, I'm going to sleep. The Panther, David Crockett, and Obed will debate the plans. Ned, who's becoming a neared to war and danger, was soon asleep, but Will could not close his eyes. He had borne a gallant part in the defense and the sounds of rifle shots in Indian Yale still resounded in his excited ear. He remained awake long after he heard the heavy breathing of the men about him, but exhausted nerves gave way at last and he, too, slept. The next morning, their news was debated gravely by all. There was not one among them who did not understand its significance, but it was hard to agree upon a policy. David Crockett, who had just come and who was practically a stranger to Texas, gave his opinions without hesitation. It's better for you, Mr. Panther, and you, Mr. Watt, to make the motions, he said. I, my Tennesseans, will endorse them, but it seems, boys, that if we came to provide it is offered to us the moment we get here. Yes, said the 12 Tennesseans altogether. I shall be compelled to leave you, said Roylston. Pray don't think it's because I'm afraid to fight the Mexicans, but, as I told you before, I can do far greater good for the Texan cause elsewhere, as I am now as well as ever and I am able to take care of myself. I think I shall leave it once. I've only known you for you hours, Mr. Roylston, said Crockett, but I've knocked around a hard world long enough to know old man when I see him. If you say you ought, you ought to go. That's so, said the Panther. We've seen Mr. Roylston tried more than once and nobody doubts his courage. A good horse, saddled and bridled, with arms and ammunition were given to Roylston. Then he bade them farewell. When he was about 20 yards away, he beckoned to Ned. When the boy stood in the saddle bow, he said very interestingly, if you fall again into the hands of Santa Ana and are in danger of your life, use my name with him. It is perhaps a more potent weapon than you think. Do not forget. I will not, said Ned, and I thank you very much, Mr. Roylston, but I hope that no such occasion will arise. So do I, said Roylston with emphasis. Then he rode away, a square strong figure and never looked back. What was he saying, Ned? Asked Will when the boy returned. Merely promising help if we should need it hereafter. He looks like a man who would give it. After some further talk, it was decided that Ned will Obed and the Panther should ride south to watch the advance of Santa Ana. While Crockett, Fields and the remainder should go on to San Antonio and raise such troops as they could. And if you don't mind my saying it to you, Mr. Crockett, said the Panther, keep telling them over and over again that they need to beware. Tell them that Santa Ana with all the power of Mexico at his back, he's coming. Fair enough, my good friend, said David Crockett. I shall tell them every hour of the day. I shall never cease to bring the information before the full quorum of the house. Again, I am parliamentary, but I think you understand, Mr. Panther. We all understand, said the Panther. And then Crockett rode away at the head of the little troop which tacitly made him commander. Ned's eyes followed his figure as long as he was in sight. Little did he dream of what was to pass when they should meet again. Scenes that one could never forget, though he lived a thousand years. A staunch man and true, said Obed. He will be a great help to Texas. Then they turned back to the cabin, the four of them, because they did not intend to go forth until night. They missed their comrades, but the cabin was a pleasant place, well stored now with meat of buffalo, deer, and wild turkey. Floor and walls alike were covered with dressed skins. Why not fasten it up just as tightly as we can before we go away? Said Allen. The Comanches are not likely to come back. The war is swinging another way. And maybe we'll find it here handy for us again someday. You're talking sense, Will Allen, said the panther. It's been a shelter to us once. There might be a shelter to us twice. The smell of the meat, Will, of course, draw wolves and panthers, but we can fix it so they can't get in. Taking sufficient provisions for themselves, they put the rest high up in the rafters. Then they secured the windows and heaped logs before the door in such a manner that the smartest of wolves and panthers in the world could not force an entrance. As they sat on their horses in the twilight, preparatory to riding away, they regarded their work with great content. There it is, waiting for us when we come again, said Obed White. It's a pleasant thing to have a castle for refuge when your enemies are making it too hot for you out in the open. So it is, said the panther, and a man finds that out more than once in his life. Then they turned their horses and rode southward in the dusk. But before long they made an angle and turned almost due west. It was their intention to intersect the settlements that lay before the Rio Grande and the San Antonio and give warning of the approach to Santa Ana. They went on steadily over a rolling country, mostly bare, but with occasional clumps of trees. End of chapter six, recording by Edmonds. Chapter seven of the Texan Scouts. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Edmonds. The Texan Scouts by Joseph A. Outchiller, chapter seven. About midnight, they rode into the thickest parts of the woods that they could find and slept there until day. Then they continued their course toward the west. And before night, they saw far small bands of horsemen. What do you say that they are? As the panther of Ned when they beheld the first group. Seems to me they're Mexican. Ned looked for a long time before returning an answer. Then he replied with confidence. Yes, they are Mexicans. The two men in the rear have lances and no Texan ever carried such a weapon. Then, said Obed White, it behooves us to have a care. We're scouts now and we're not looking for a battle. He who dodges the fight and runs away may live to scout another day. The Mexican horsemen were on their right and the four continued their steady course to the west. They were reassured by the fact that the Mexicans were likely to take them in the distance for other Mexicans. It became evident now that Santa Ana was taking every precaution. He was sending forward scouts and skirmishers in force and the task of the four was likely to become one of great danger. Toward night, an uncommonly raw and cold wind began to blow. That winter was one of great severity in northern Mexico and southern Texas, also noted for its frequent northers. Although the time for the Texan spring was near at hand, there was a little sign of it. Not knowing what else to do, they sought the shelter of timber again and remained there awhile. By and by, they saw for the second time a red glow in the south and they knew that it came from the campfires of Santa Ana. But it was now many miles north of the Rio Grande. Santa Ana was advancing. He's pressing forward fast, said the panther, and his skirmishers are scouring the plane ahead of him. We've got to keep a sharp lookout because we may run into him at any time. I think we better agree that if by any luck we get separated and can't reunite, every fellow should ride hard for San Antonio with the news. The plan seemed good to all, and after a long wait, they rode to another clump of trees four or 500 yards further south. Here they saw the red glow more plainly. It could not be more than two miles away, and they believed that to approach any nearer was to imperil their task. Before the first light appeared the next day, they would turn back to San Antonio as the heralds of Santa Ana's advance. The four sat on their horses among the trees, darker shadows in the shadow. Beyond the little grove, they saw the plane rolling away on every side, bare to the horizon, except in the south where the red glow always threatened. Ned rode to the western edge of the grove in order to get a better view. He searched the plane carefully with his keen vision, but he could find no sign of life there in the west. He turned old Jack in order to rejoin his comrades when he suddenly heard a low sound from the east. He listened a moment, and then hearing it distinctly, he knew it. It was the thought of hoofs, and the horsemen were coming straight toward the grove, which was two or 300 yards in width. Owing to the darkness and the foliage, Ned could not see his comrades, but he started toward them at once. Then came a sudden cry, the rapid beat of hoofs, the crack of shots in the Mexican body of cavalry dashed into the wood directly between the boy and his comrades. He heard once the tremendous shout of the panther and the wild Mexican yells. Two horsemen fired at him, and the third rode at him with an extended lance. It was old Jack that saved Ned's life. The boy was so startled that his brain was in paralysis for a moment, but the horse shied suddenly away from the head of the lance, which was flashing in the moonlight. Ned restrained both his seat and his rifle. He fired at the nearest of his Mexicans, who fell from his saddle, and then, seeing that but what alternative was left him, he gave old Jack the rain and galloped from the grove into the west. Amid all the rush and terrific excitement of the moment, Ned thought of his comrades. It was not possible for him to join them now, but they were three together and they might escape. The panther was a wonderful boarder, and Obed White was not far behind him. He turned his attention to his own escape. Two more shots were fired at him, but in both cases the bullets went wide. Then he heard only the thud of hoofs, but the pursuing horsemen were very near. Something whizzed through the air and instinctively he bent forward, almost flat on the neck of old Jack. A coiling shape struck him on the head, slipped along his back, and then along the quarters of his horse and fell to the ground. He felt as if a deadly snake had struck at him and then drawn its cold body across him, but he knew that it was a lasso. The Mexicans would wish to take him alive as they might secure valuable information from him. Now we heard them shouting to one another, everyone boasting that his would be the successful throw. As Ned's rifle was empty and he could not reload it at such speed, they seemed to fear nothing for themselves. He looked back, they numbered seven or eight and they were certainly very near. They had spread out a little, and whenever old Jack veered a yard or two from the pursuer someone gained, he saw a coil of rope fly through the air and he bent forward again. It struck old Jack on the saddle and fell to the ground. Ned wondered why they did not fire now, but he remembered that their rifles or muskets too might be empty and suddenly he felt a strange exultation. He was still lying forward on his horse's neck and now he began to talk to him. On, on old Jack, he said, show him the cleanest heels that have ever been seen in Texan. On, on, my beauty of a horse, my jewel of a horse, would you let miserable Mexican ponies overtake you? You who were never beaten. Ah, now we gain, but faster, faster. It seemed that old Jack understood. He stretched out his long neck and became a streak in the darkness. A third Mexican threw his lasso, but the noose only touched his flying tail. A fourth threw and the noose did not reach him at all. They were far out on the plane now where the moonlight revealed everything and the horse's sheer instinct would guide. Ned felt old Jack beneath him running strong and true without a jar like the most perfect piece of machinery. He stole a glance over his shoulder. All the Mexicans were there too far away now for the throw of the lasso, but several of them were trying to reload their weapons. Ned knew that if they succeeded, he would be in great danger. No matter how badly they shot, a chance bullet might hit him or his horse and he could afford neither himself nor old Jack to be wounded. Once more, the boy leaned far over his horse's neck and cried in his ear, on old Jack, on, look, we gained now, but we must gain more. Show them what a horse you are. And again, the great horse responded. Fast as he was going, it seemed to Ned that he now lengthened his stride. His long head was thrust out almost straight and his great body fairly skinned the earth, but the Mexicans hung on with grim tenacity. Their ponies were tough and enduring and spread out like the arc of a bow. They continually profited by some divergence that old Jack made from his straight line. Aware of this danger, Ned himself nevertheless was unable to tell whether the horse was going in a direct course and he let him have his head. Crack, went a musket and a bullet saying past Ned's face. It grazed old Jack's ear, drawing blood. The horse uttered an angry snort and fairly leaped forward. Ned looked back again. Another man had succeeded in loading his musket and was about to fire. The boy remembered his pistol at his belt, snatching it out, he fired at the fellow with the loaded musket. The Mexican reeled forward on his horse's neck and his weapon dropped to the ground. Where the man himself fell also, Ned never knew because he quickly thrust the pistol back in his belt and once more was looking straight ahead. Now confidence swelled in his heart. He'd escaped all their bullets so far and he was still gaining. He would escape all the others and he would continue to gain. He saw just ahead of him one of the clumps of trees that dotted the plane, but although it might give momentary protection from the bullets, he was afraid to gallop into it, lest he be swept from his horse's back by the bows or bushes. But his direct course would run close to the left side of it and once more he sought to urge old Jack to greater speed. The horse was still running without a jar. Ned could not feel a single rough movement in the perfect machinery beneath him. Unless wounded, old Jack would not fail him. He stole another one of those fleeting lances backwards. Several of the Mexicans, their ponies spent, were dropping out of the race but enough were left to make the odds far too great. Ned now skimmed along the edge of the grove and when he passed it he turned his horse a little so that the trees were between him and his nearest pursuers. Then he urged old Jack to his last ounce of speed. The plane raced behind him and fortunate clouds too now came veiling the moon and turning the dusk into deeper darkness. Ned heard one disappointed cry behind him and then no sound but the flying beat of his own horse's hoofs. When he pulled rain and broad old Jack to a walk he could see nor hear nothing of the Mexicans. The great horse was a lather of foam, his sides heaving and panting and Ned sprang to the ground. He reloaded his rifle and pistol and then walked toward the west leading old Jack by the bridle. He reckoned that the Mexicans would go toward the north thinking that he would naturally ride for San Antonio and hence he chose the opposite direction. He walked a long time and presently he felt the horse rubbing his nose gently against his arm. Ned stroked the soft muzzle. You've saved my life old Jack. He said, and not for the first time you responded to every call. The horse winnied ever so softly and Ned felt that he was not alone. Now we threw the bridle reins back over the horse's head and the two walked on side by side man and beast. They stopped at times and it may be that the horse as well as the boy then looked and listened for a foe but the Mexicans had melted away completely in the night. It was likely now that they were going in the opposite direction and assured that he was safe from them for the time Ned collapsed both physically and mentally. Such tremendous exertions and such terrible excitement were bound to bring reaction. He began to tremble violently and he became so weak that he could scarcely stand. The horse seemed to be affected in much the same way and walked slowly and painfully. Ned saw another little grove and he and the horse walked straight toward it. It was fairly dense and when he was in the center of it he wrapped his rifle in himself in his Serape and lay down. The horse sank on his side near him. He did not care for anything now except a secure rest. Mexicans or Comanches or Lipans might be on the plane only a few hundred yards away but it did not matter to him. He responded to no emotion, saved the desire for rest and in five minutes he was in a deep sleep. Ned slept until long after daylight. He was so much exhausted that he scarcely moved during all that time. Nor did the horse. Old Jack had run his good race and won the victory and he too cared for nothing but to rest. Before morning some lipan buffalo hunters passed but they took no notice of the grove and soon disappeared in the west. After the dawn a detachment of Mexican Lancers riding to the east to join a force of Santa Ana also passed the clump of trees but the horse and man lay in the densest part of it and no pair of Mexican eyes was keen enough to see them there. They were answering the call of Santa Ana and they rode on at a trot, the grove soon sinking out of sight behind them. Ned was awakened at last by the sun shining in his face. He stirred, recalled in a vague sort of way where he was and why he was there and then rose slowly to his feet. His joints were stiff like those of an old man and he rubbed them to acquire ease. A great bay horse saddle on his back was searching here and there for the young stems of grass. Ned rubbed his eyes, it seemed to him that he knew that horse and a fine big horse he was too, worth knowing and owning. Yes, it was Old Jack, the horse that had carried him to safety. His little store of provisions was still tied to the saddle and he ate hungrily. At the end of the grove was a small pool formed by the winter's rains and though the water was far from clear he drank his fill. He flexed and tensed his muscles again until all the stiffness and soreness were gone. Then he made ready for his departure. He could direct his course by the sun and he intended to go straight to San Antonio. He only hoped that he might get there before the arrival of Santa Anna in his army. He could not spare the time to seek his comrades and he felt much apprehension for them but he had yet the utmost confidence in the scale of the Panther and Obed White. It was about two hours before noon when Ned set out across the plain. Usually in this region, Antelope were to be seen on the horizon but they were all gone now. The boy considered it a sure sign that Mexican detachments had passed that way. It was altogether likely too, so he calculated that the Mexican army was now nearer than he to San Antonio. His flight had taken him to the west while Santa Anna was moving straight toward the Tesks and Outwerks. But he believed that by steady riding he could reach San Antonio within 24 hours. The afternoon passed without event. Ned neither saw humans nor game on the vast prairie. He had hoped that by some chance he might meet with his comrades but there was no sign of them and he fell back on his belief that their skill and great courage had saved them. Seeking to dismiss them from his thoughts for the time in order that he might concentrate all his energies on San Antonio, he rode on. The horse had recovered completely from his great efforts of the preceding night and once more that magnificent piece of machinery worked without a jar. Old Jack moved over the prairie with long, easy strides. It seemed to Ned that he could never grow weary. He patted the sinewy and powerful neck. Galant, comrade, he said, you have done your duty and more. You at least will never fail. Twilight came down but Ned kept on. By and by he saw on the east and for the third time that fatal red glow extending far along the dusky horizon. All that he had feared of Santa Anna was true. The dictator was marching fast, whipping his army forward with a fierce energy that was part of his nature. It was likely too that squadrons of his cavalry were much further on. A daring leader like Ureo would certainly be miles ahead of the main army. It was more than probable that bands of Mexican horsemen were now directly between him and San Antonio. Ned knew that he would need all his strength and courage to finish his task. So he gave Old Jack a little rest, although he did not seem to need it and drew once more upon his rations. When he remounted, he was conscious that the air had grown much colder. A chill wind began to cut him across the cheek. Snow, rain and wind have played a great part in the fate of armies and they had much to do with the struggle between Texas and Mexico in that fateful February. Ned's experience told him that another norther was about to begin and he was glad of it. One horseman could make much greater progress through it than an army. The wind rose fast and then came hail and snow on its edge. The red glow in the east disappeared but Ned knew that it was still there. The norther had merely drawn an icy veil between. He shivered and the horse under him shivered too. Once more he wrapped around his body the grateful folds of the Serape and he drew on a pair of buckskin gloves, a part of his winter equipment. Then he rode on straight towards San Antonio as nearly as he could calculate. The norther increased in ferocity. It brought rain, hail and snow and the night darkened greatly. Ned began to fear that he would get lost. It was almost impossible to keep the true direction in such a driving storm. He had no moon and stars to guide him and it was compelled to rely wholly upon instinct. Sometimes he was in the woods, sometimes upon the plane and once or twice he crossed creeks the waters of which were swollen and muddy. The norther was not such a blessing after all. He might be going directly away from San Antonio while Santa Anna with innumerable guides would easily reach there the next day. He longed for those faithful comrades of his. The four of them together could surely find a way out of this. He prayed now that the norther would cease but his prayer was of no avail. It whistled and moaned about him and snow and hail were continually driven in his face. Fortunately, the brim of the sombrero protected his eyes. He floundered on until midnight. The norther was blowing as fiercely as ever and he and old Jack were brought up by a thicket too dense for them to penetrate. Ned understood now that he was lost. Instinct had failed absolutely. Brave and resourceful as he was he uttered a groan of despair. It was torture to be so near the end of his task and then to fail. But the despair lasted only a moment. The courage of a nature containing genuine greatness brought back hope. He dismounted and led his horse around the thicket. Then they came to a part of the woods which seemed thinner and not knowing anything else to do. He went straight ahead but he stopped abruptly when his feet sank and soft mud. He saw directly before him a stream yellow swollen and flowing faster than usual. Ned knew that it was the San Antonio River and now he had a clue. By following its banks he would reach the town. The way might be long but it must inevitably lead him to San Antonio and he would take it. He remounted and rode as fast as he could. The river curved and twisted but he was far more cheerful now. The San Antonio was like a great coiling rope but if he followed it long enough he would certainly come to the end that he wished. The norther continued to blow. He and his horse were a huge moving shape of white. Now and then the snow coating too thickly upon his syrup fell and lumps to the ground but it was soon coated anew and as thick as ever but whatever happened he never let the San Antonio get out of his sight. He was compelled to stop at last under a thick cluster of oaks where he somewhat sheltered from the wind and snow. Here he dismounted again, stamped his feet vigorously for warmth and also brushed the snow from his faithful horse. Old Jack as usual rubbed his nose against the boy's arm. The horse was a source of great comfort and strength to Ned. He always believed that he would have collapsed without him. As nearly as he could guess the time it was about halfway between midnight and morning and in order to preserve his strength he forced himself to eat a little more. A half hours rest and remounting he resumed his slow progress by the river. The rest had been good for both his horse and himself and the blood felt warmer in his veins. He moved for some time along trees and thickets that lined the banks and after a while he recognized familiar ground. He had been in some of these places in the course of the siege of San Antonio and the town could not be far away. It was probably two hours before daylight when he heard a sound which was not that of the norther, a sound which he knew instantly. It was the dull clank of bronze against bronze. It could only be made by one cannon striking against another. Then Santa Ana or one of his generals despite the storm and the night was advancing with his army or a part of it. Ned shivered and now not from the cold. The Texans did not understand the fiery energy of this man. They would learn it too late unless he told them and it might be too late even then. He pressed on with as much increase of speed as the nature of the ground would allow. In another hour the snow and hail ceased but the wind still blew fiercely and it remained very cold. The dawn began to show dimly through the drifting clouds. Ned did not recall until long afterward. That was the birthday of the great Washington. By singular coincidence Santa Ana appeared before Taylor with a vastly superior force on the same birthday 11 years later. It was a hidden sun and the day was bleak with clouds and driving winds. Nevertheless the snow that had fallen began to disappear. Ned and old Jack still made their way forward somewhat slowly now as they were stiff and sore from the long nights fight with darkness and cold. On his right only a few feet away was the swollen current of the San Antonio. The stream looked deep to Ned and it bore fragments of timber upon its muddy bosom. It seemed to him that the waters rippled angrily against the bank. His excited imagination and full cause there was gave a sinister meaning to everything. A heavy fog began to rise from the river and wet earth. You could not see far in front of him but he believed that the town was now only a mile or two away. Soon a low heavy sound, a measured stroke came out of the fog. It was the tolling of the church bell in San Antonio and for some reason its impact upon Ned's ear was like the stroke of death. A strange chilly sensation ran down his spine. He rode to the very edge of the stream and began to examine it for a possible forward. San Antonio was on the other side and he must cross but everywhere the dark swollen waters threatened and he continued his course along the bank. A thick growth of bushes and a high position of the bank caused him presently to turn away from the river until he could make a curve about the obstacles. The tolling of the bell had now ceased and the fog was lifting a little. Out of it came only the low angry murmur of the river's current. As Ned turned the curve the wind grew much stronger. The bank of fog was split asunder and then floated swiftly away in patches and streamers. On his left beyond the river, Ned saw the roofs of a town now glistening in the clear morning air and on his right only four or 500 yards away, he saw a numerous troop of Mexican cavalry and the figure at the head of the horsemen he was sure that he recognized Ureya. Ned's first emotion was a terrible sinking of the heart. After all that he had done, after all his great journeys, hardships and danger, he was to fail with the towers and roofs of Tan Antonio in sight. It was the triumphant cry of the Mexicans that startled him to life again. They had seen the lone horsemen by the river and they galloped at once to ward him. Ned had made no mistake, it was Ureya pressing forward ahead of the army who led the troop. It may be that he recognized the boy also. With the cry of the Mexicans ringing in his ears, the boy shouted to old Jack, the good horse as always made instant response and began to race along the side of the river. But even his mighty frame had been weakened by so much strain. Ned noticed at once that the machinery jarred. The great horse was laboring hard and the Mexican cavalry comparatively fresh was coming on fast. It was evident that he would soon be overtaken and so sure were the Mexicans of it that they did not fire. There were deep reserves of courage and fortitude in this boy, deeper than even he himself suspected. When he saw that he could not escape by speed, the way out flashed upon him. To think it was to do, he turned his horse without hesitation and urged him forward with a mighty cry. Never had old Jack made a more magnificent response. Ned felt the mighty mass of bone and muscle gather and a bunch beneath him. Then, ready to expand again with violent energy, it was released as if by the touch of a spring. The horse sprang from the high bank far out into the deep river. Ned felt his syrupy fly from him and his rifle dropped from his hand. Then the yellow waters closed both over him and old Jack. Then they came up again. Ned, still on his horse's back but with an icy chill through all his veins, could not see for a moment or two as the water was in his eyes. But he heard dimly the shouts of the Mexicans in several shots. Two or three bullets splashed in the water around him and another struck his sombrero which is floating away on the surface of the stream. The horse, turning somewhat swam powerfully in a diagonal course across the stream. Ned, dazed for the moment by the shock of the plunge from a height into the water clung tightly to his back. He sat erected first and then remembering that he must evade the bullets leaned forward with the horse's neck between him and the Mexicans. More shots were fired but again he was untouched and the horse was feeling with his forefeet for the muddy bank for a hold. The next instant with a powerful effort he pulled himself upon the shore. The violent shock nearly threw Ned from his back but the boy seized his mane and hung on. The Mexicans shouted and fired anew but Ned now sitting erect raced for San Antonio only a mile away. End of chapter seven, recording by Edmonds. Chapter eight of the Texan Scouts. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Edmonds. The Texan Scouts by Joseph A. Outchiller. Chapter eight. Most of the people in San Antonio were asleep when the dripping figure of a half conscious boy on a great horse scalped toward them in that momentous dawn. He was without hat or surrape. He was bare headed and his rifle was gone. He was shouting up, up! Santa Ana and the Mexican army are at hand but his voice was so choked in horse that he could not be heard a hundred feet away. Davy Crockett, Jim's Bowie and a third man were standing on the main plaza. The third man like the other two was of commanding proportions. He was a full six feet in height, very erect and muscular and with full face of red hair. He was younger than the others, not more than 28. But he was Colonel William Barrett Travis, a North Carolina lawyer who is now in command of the few Texans in San Antonio. The three men were talking very anxiously. Crockett had brought word that the army of Santa Ana was on the Texan side of the Rio Grande but it had seemed impossible to rouse the Texans to a full sense of the impending danger. Many remained at their homes following their usual vocations. Mr. Austin was away in the states trying to raise money. The ascensions were numerous in the councils of the new government and the leaders could agree upon nothing. Travis, Bowie and Crockett were aware of the great danger but even they did not believe it was so near. Nevertheless, they were full of anxiety. Crockett just come to Texas, took no command and sought to keep in the background but he was too famous and experienced a man not to be taken at once by Travis and Bowie into their councils. They were discussing now the possibility of getting help. We might send messages to the towns for the East. Said Travis and at least get a few men here in time. We need a good man, said Bowie. According to Mr. Crockett, the Mexican army is large and the population he is unfriendly. That is so, said Travis. And we have women and children of our own to protect. It was when he spoke the last words that they heard the clatter of hoofs and saw Ned dashing down the narrow street toward the main plaza. They heard him trying to shout but his voice was now so hoarse that he could not be understood. But Ned, though growing weaker fast, knew two of the men. He could never forget the fair-haired Bowie nor the swarthy Crockett and he galloped straight towards them. Then he pulled up his horse and a half fell, half leap to the ground. Holding by old Jack's mane, he pulled himself into an erect position. He was a singular sight. The water still fell from his wet hair and dripped from his clothing. His face was plastered with mud. Santa Anna's army, 5,000 strong is not two miles away. He said, I tell you because I've seen it. Good God, cried Bowie. It's the boy, Ned Fulton. I know him well. What he says must be the truth. It's every word truth, croaked Ned. I was pursued by their vanguard. My horse swam the river with me. Up, up for Texas! Then he fainted, dead away. Bowie seized him in his powerful arms and carried him into one of the houses occupied by the Texans where men stripped him of his wet clothing and gave him restoratives. But Bowie himself hurried out into the main plaza. He had the most unlimited confidence in Ned's word and so had Crockett. They and Travis at once began to arrange the little garrison for defense. Many of the Texans even yet would not believe. So great had been their confidence that they had sent out no scouting parties. Only a day or two before they had been enjoying themselves at a great dance. The boy who had come with the news that Santa Anna was at hand must be distraught. Certainly he had looked like a maniac. A loud cry suddenly came from the roof of the church of San Fernando. Two sentinels posted there had seen the edge of a great army appear upon the plane and then spread rapidly over it. Santa Anna's army had come. The mad boy was right. Two horsemen sent out to reconnoiter had to race back for their lives. The flooded stream was now subsiding and only the depth of the water in the night had kept the Mexicans from taking cannon across and attacking. Ned's fate was short. He remembered putting on clothing, securing a rifle and ammunition and then he ran out into the square. For many windows he saw the triumphant faces of Mexicans looking out, but he paid no attention to them. He thought alone of the Texans who are now displaying the greatest energy in the face of the imminent and deadly peril. Travis, Crockett, Bowie, and the others were cool and were acting with rapidity. The order was swiftly given to cross to the Alamo. The old mission built like a fortress and the Texans were gathering in a body. Ned saw a young lieutenant named Dickinson catch up his wife and child on his horse and joined the group of men. All the Texans had their long rifles and there were also cannon. As Ned took his place with the others a kindly hand fell upon his shoulder and a voice spoke in his ear. I was going to send for you, Ned, said Bowie, but you've come. Perhaps it would have been better for you though if you'd been left in San Antonio. Oh no, Mr. Bowie, cried Ned. Don't say that. We can beat off any number of Mexicans. Bowie said nothing more. Much of Ned's courage and spirit returned, but now he saw how pitifully small their numbers were. The little band that defiled across the plane to where the Alamo numbered less than 150 men and many of them were without experience. They were not far upon the plane when Ned saw a great figure coming towards him. It was old Jack who had been forgotten in the haste and excitement. The saddle was still on his back and the bridle trailed on the ground. Ned met him and patted his faithful head. Already he had taken his resolution. There would be no place for old Jack in the Alamo, but this good friend of his should not fall into the hands of the Mexicans. He slipped off the saddle and bridle, struck him smartly on the shoulder and exclaimed goodbye, old Jack, goodbye. Keep away from our enemies and wait for me. The horse looked a moment at his master and, to Ned's excited eyes, it seemed for a moment that he wished to speak. Old Ned had never before been dismissed in this manner. Ned struck him again and yet more sharply, go, old friend, he cried. The good horse trotted away across the plane. Once he looked back as if in reproach, but his Ned did not call him. He kept on and disappeared over a swell. It was to Ned like the passing of a friend, but he knew that old Jack would not allow the Mexicans to take him. He would fight with both teeth and hoofs against any such ignominious capture. Then Ned turned his attention to their treat. It was a little ban that went toward the Alamo. There were three women and three children in it, but since they knew definitely that Santa Ana and his great army had come, there was not a Texan who shrank from his duty. They had been lax in their watch and careless of the future, false frequent in irregular troops, but in the presence of overwhelming danger, they showed not the least fear of death. They reached the Alamo side of the river. Before them they saw the hewn stone walls of the mission rising up in the form of a cross and facing the river in the town. It certainly seemed welcome to a little band of desperate men who were going to fight against overwhelming odds. Ned saw not far away the Mexican cavalry advancing in masses. The foremost groups were Lancers and the sun glittered on the blades of their long weapons. Ned believed that Aurea was somewhere in one of these leading groups. Aurea he knew was full of skill and enterprise, but his heart filled with bitterness against him. He had tasted the Texan salt. He had broken bread with those faithful friends of his, the panther and Obed White. And now he was at Santa Ana's right hand, seeking to destroy the Texans utterly. Looks as if I'd have a lot of use for old Betsy, said a whimsical voice beside him. Somebody said when I saw it away from Tennessee that I'd have nothing to do with it. Might as well leave my rifle at home. But I allow that old Betsy as the most youthful friend that I could have just now. It was of course, David Crockett who spoke. It was as cool as a cake of ice. Old Betsy rested in the hollow of his arm, the long barrel projecting several feet. His raccoon skin cap was on the back of his head. His whole manner was that of one who was in the first stage of a most interesting event. But as Ned was looking at him, a light suddenly leaped in the calm eye. Look there, look there, said David Crockett, pointing a long finger. We'll need food in that Alamo place and behold it on the hoof. About 40 cattle had been grazing on the plane. They had suddenly gathered in a bunch, startled by the appearance of so many people and of galloping horsemen. We'll take them with us. We'll need them. Say we can do it, Colonel, shouted Crockett to Travis. Travis nodded. Come on, Ned, cried Crockett, and come on the rest of you fleet-footed fellas. Every mother's son of you has driven the cows home before in his time, and now you can do it again. A dozen swift Texans ran forward with shouts Ned and David Crockett at their head. Crockett was right. This was work that every one of them knew how to do. In a flash, they were driving the whole frightened herd in a run toward the gate that led into the great plaza of the Alamo. The swift motion, the sense of success, and a sudden maneuver thrilled Ned. He shouted at the cattle as he would have done when he was a small boy. They were near the gate when he heard an ominous sound by his side. It was the cocking of David Crockett's rifle, and they looked around. They saw that old Betsy was leveled and that the sure eye of a Tennessean was looking down the sights. Some of the Mexican skirmishers, seeing the capture of the herd by the daring Texans, were galloping forward to check it. Crockett's finger pressed the trigger. Old Betsy flashed and the foremost rider fell to the ground. I told that Mexican come down off his horse and he came down, chuckled Crockett. The Mexicans drew back because of other Texan rifles. Weapons that they had learned to dread were raised. A second body of horsemen charged from a different angle and Ned distinctly saw Urea at their head. He fired, but the bullet missed the partisan leader and brought down another man behind him. That good pickens here, said David Crockett, but they'll soon be too many for us. Come on, Ned, boy, all places behind them walls. Oh yes, repeated Bowie, who is near. It's the Alamo and nothing. No matter how fast we fight our rifles, we'd soon be trailed underfoot by the Mexicans. They passed in, Bowie, Crockett and Ned, forming the rear guard. The great gates of the Alamo were closed behind them and barred. For the moment, they were safe because these doors were made of very heavy oak and it would require immense force to batter the men. It was evident that the Mexican horsemen on the plane did not intend to make such attempt and they drew off hastily knowing that the deadly Texan rifles would man the walls at once. Well, here we are, Ned, so the cheerful voice of David Crockett. And if we want to win glory in fighting, it seems that we've got the biggest chance that was ever offered to anybody. I guess when old Santa Anna comes up, he'll say, by our nation's right, we'll forward march the world. Still, these walls will help a little to make up the difference between 50 to one. He spoke as he tapped the outer wall. No Mexican Alamo in earth, he said, as golden, tough enough head to butt through that, at least I think so. Now what do you think, Ned? His tone was so whimsical that Ned was compelled to laugh despite their terrible situation. It's a pity though, continued Crockett, that we've got such a big place here to defend. Sometimes you're the stronger, the less ground you spread over. Ned glanced around. He had paid the Alamo one hasty visit just after the capture of San Antonio by the Texans, but he took only a vague look then. Now it was to make upon his brain a photograph which nothing could remove as long as he lived. He saw in a few minutes all the details of the Alamo. He already knew its history. This mission of deathless fame was even then more than a century old. Its name, the Alamo, signified the Cottonwood Tree, but that was long since been lost in another imperishable grandeur. The buildings of the mission were numerous. The whole arranged according to custom in the form of a cross. The church, which was now without a roof, faced toward town and river, but it contained arched rooms and the sacristy had a solid roof of masonry. The windows, cut for the needs of an earlier time, were high and narrow. In order that attacking Indians might not pour in flights of arrows upon those who should be worshiping there. Over the heavy oaken doors were images and carvings and stone worn by time. To the left of the church, beside the wing of the cross, was the plaza of the convent, about 30 yards square with its separate walls more than 15 feet high and nearly four feet thick. Ned noted all these things rapidly and in it faceably as he and Crockett took a swift but complete survey of the fortress. He saw that the convent and hospital, each two stories in height, were made of adobe bricks and he also noticed a sallyport protected by a little redoubt at the southeastern corner of the yard. They saw beyond the convent yard the great plaza into which they had driven the cattle, a parallelogram covering nearly three acres enclosed by a wall eight feet in height and three feet thick. Prisons, barracks and other buildings were scattered about. Beyond the walls was a small group of wretched jackals or huts in which some Mexicans lived. Water from the San Antonio floated ditches through the mission. It was almost a town that they were called upon to defend. Ned and Crockett after their hasty look came back to the church, the strongest of all the buildings with walls of hewn stone five feet thick and nearly 25 feet high. They opened the heavy oaken doors, entered the building and looked up through their open roof at the sky. Then Crockett's eyes came back to the arched rooms in the covered sacristy. This is a real fault, he said, and we'll put our gunpowder in that sacristy. It looks like sacrilege to use a church for such a purpose, but Ned, times are gonna be very hot here, the hottest we ever saw and we must protect our powder. He carried his suggestion to Travis who adopted it once and the powder was quickly taken into the rooms. They also had 14 pieces of cannon which were mounted on the walls of the church, the stockade at the entrance to the plaza and at the readout. But the Texans, frontiersmen and not regular soldiers did not place much reliance upon the cannon. Their favorite weapon was the rifle with which they rarely missed even at long range. It took the Texans but little time to arrange the defense and then came a pause. Ned did not have any particular duty assigned to him and he went back to the church which now bore so little resemblance to a house of worship. He gazed curiously at the battered carvings and images over the door. They looked almost grotesque to him now and some of them threatened. He went inside the church and looked around once more. It was old, very old. The greatness of age showed everywhere and the silence of the defenders on the walls deepened its ancient aspect. But the norther had ceased to blow and the sun came down bright and unclouded through the open roof. Ned climbed upon the wall. Bowie, who was behind one of the cannon, beckoned to him. Ned joined him and leaned upon the gun as Bowie pointed towards San Antonio. See the Mexican mausers. He said, Ned, you were a most time the herald. If it had not been for you, all surprise would have been total. Look how they defiled upon the plane. The army of Santa Ana was entering San Antonio and it was spread out far and wide. The sun glittered on lances and rifles and brightened the bronze barrels of cannon. The triumphant notes of a bugle came across the intervening space and when the bugle ceased, Mexican band began to play. It was fine music. The Mexicans had the Latin ear, the gift for melody and the air they played was martial and inspiring. One could march readily to its beat. Bowie frowned, they think it's nothing more than a parade. He said, Bowie in Santa Ana has taken us. He will need a new census of his army. He looked around at the strong stone walls and then at the resolute faces of the men near him. But his garrison was small, pitifully small. Ned left the walls and ate a little food that was cooked over a fire and lighted in the convent plaza. Then he wandered about the place looking at the buildings and enclosures. The Alamo was so extensive that all he knew Travis would be compelled to concentrate his defense about the church, but he wanted to examine all these places anyhow. He wandered into one building that looked like a storehouse. The interior was dry and dusty. Cobwebs hang from the walls and was an empty save for many old barrels that stood in the corner. Ned looked casually into the barrels and they uttered a shout of joy. The scores of them were full of shelled Indian corn in perfect condition. A hundred bushels at least. There was truly a treasure trove more valuable than if the barrels had been filled with coined gold. He ran out of the house and the first man he met was David Crockett. Now, what is this to you? Said Crockett in his drawing tone. Haven't you seen Mexicans enough for one day? They sank the time to see double. I wish I could see double in this case, Mr. Crockett, replied Ned, because then the 20 barrels of corn that I found would be 40. He took Crockett triumphantly into the building and showed him the treasure, which was soon transferred to one of the arched rooms beside the entrance of the church. It was in truth, one of the luckiest finds ever made. The cattle in the plaza would furnish meat for a long time, but they would need bread also. Again, Ned felt that pleasant glow of triumph. It seemed that fortune was aiding them. He went outside and stood by the ditch which led to his shallow stream of water along the eastern side of the church. It was greenish and tint, but it was water. Water which would keep the life in their bodies while they fought off the hosts of Santa Ana. The sun was now past the zenith, and since the norther had ceased to blow, there was a spring warmth in the air. Ned, conscious now that he was stained with the dirt and dust of flight and haste, bathed his face and hands in the water of the ditch and combed his thick brown hair as well as he could with his fingers. Good work, my lad, set a hearty voice behind him. It shows that you have a cool brain and an orderly mind. David Crockett, who was always neat, also bathed his own face and hands in the ditch. Now I feel a lot better, he said. And I want to tell you, Ned, that it's lucky that the Spanish built so massively. Look at this church. It's got walls of hewn stone, five foot thick. And back in these Tennessee, we built them a planks a quarter of an inch thick. Why these walls would turn the biggest cannonballs. It surely is mighty lucky, said Ned. What are you going to do next, Mr. Crockett? I don't know. I guess we'll wait on the Mexicans to open the battle. Ah, do you hear that trumpet blowing again? I reckon it means that they're up to something. I think so too, said Ned. Let's go back upon the church walls, Mr. Crockett, and see for ourselves just what it means. The two climbed upon the great stone wall, which was in reality a parapet. Travis and Bowie, who was second in command, were there already. Ned looked towards San Antonio. He saw Mexicans everywhere. Mexicans' flags hoisted by the people were floating from the flat roofs of the houses, signs of their exultation at the coming of Santa Ana and the expulsion of the Texans. The trumpets sounded again, and they saw three officers detach themselves from the Mexican lines and ride forward under a white flag. Ned knew that one of them was the young Eurea. Now what in thunder can they want? growled David Crockett. There can be no talk or truce between us and Santa Ana. If all that I've heard of him is true, I never believe what he says. Travis called two of his officers, Major Morris and Captain Martin, who directed them to go out and see what the Mexicans wanted. Then, meeting Ned's eye, he recalled something. Oh, you speak Spanish and Mexicans Spanish perfectly, he said. Will you go along too? Gladly, said Ned. I and Ned, said David Crockett in his whimsical tone. If you don't tell me everywhere they said when you come back, I'll keep you on bread and water for a week. There ought to be no secrets here for me. I promised Mr. Crockett, said Ned. The heavy oaken doors were thrown open, and the three went out on foot to meet the Mexican officers who were riding slowly forward. The afternoon air was now soft and pleasant and a light, soothing wind was blowing from the south. The sky was a vast dome of brilliant blue and gold. It was a picture that remained indelibly on Ned's mind like many others that were to come. They were etched in so deeply that neither the colors nor the order of their occurrence ever changed. An odor, a touch, or anything suggestive that would make them return to his mind, unfaded and in proper sequence like the passing of moving pictures. The Mexicans halted in the middle of the plane and the three Texans met them. The Mexicans did not dismount. Ureo was slightly in advance of the other two who were older men in brilliant uniforms, generals at least. Ned saw at once that they were meant to be haughty and arrogant to the last degree. They showed it in the first instance by not dismounting. It was evident that Ureo would be the chief spokesman and his manner indicated that it would be a part that he liked. He too was in a fine uniform, irreproachably neat, and his handsome olive face was flushed. And so, he said in an undertone and in Spanish to Ned, we are here, face to face again. You have chosen your own trap, Di Alamo, and it is not in human power for you to escape it now. His taunt stung, but Ned merely replied, we shall see. Then Ureo said aloud, speaking in English and addressing himself to the two officers, we have come by the order of General Santana, president of Mexico, and commander-in-chief of her officers to make a demand of you. A conference must proceed on the assumption that the two parties in it aren't equal terms, said Major Morris in civil terms. Yes, under ordinary circumstances, said Ureo, without debating his haughty manner, one wit. But this is a demand by a paramount authority upon rebels and traitors. He paused that his words might sink home. All three of the Texans felt anger, leap in their hearts, but they put restraint upon their words. What is it that you wish to say to us? Continued Major Morris, if it is anything we should hear, we are listening. Ureo could not subdue his love of the grandiose and theatrical. As you may see for yourselves, he said, General Santana has returned to Texas with an overpowering force of brave Mexican troops. San Antonio has fallen into his hands without his struggle. He can take the Alamo any day, but in a month not a man with a left in Texas able to dispute his authority. These are statements most of which can be disputed, said Major Morris. What does General Santana demand of us? His quiet manner had his effect upon Ureo. He demands your unconditional surrender, he said. And does he say nothing about our lives and good treatment? Continued the Major in the same quiet tones. He does not, replied Ureo emphatically. If you receive mercy, it will be due solely to the clemency of General Santana towards rebels. Hot anger again made Ned's heart leap. The tone of Ureo was almost insufferable, said Major Morris, not he, who was spokesman. I am not empowered to accept or reject anything, continued Major Morris. Colonel Travis is the commander of our force, but I am quite positive in my belief that he will not surrender. We must carry back our answer neither the affirmative or the negative, said Ureo. You can do neither, said Major Morris, but I promise you that if the answers are refusal to surrender and I know it will be such, a single cannon shot will be fired from the wall of the church. Very well, said Ureo. And since that is your arrangement, I see nothing more to be said. No do I, said Major Morris. The Mexicans saluted in a perfunctory manner and rode towards San Antonio. The three Texans went slowly back to the Alamo. Ned walked behind the two men. He hoped that the confidence of Major Morris was justified. He knew Santa Ana too well. He believed that the Texans had more to fear from surrender than from defense. They entered the Alamo and once more the Great Door was shut and barred heavily. They climbed upon the wall and Major Morris and Captain Martin went toward Travis, Bowie and Crockett, who stood together waiting. Ned paused a little distance away. He saw them talking together earnestly, but he could not hear what they said. Far away, he saw the three Mexicans riding slowly towards San Antonio. Ned's eyes came back to the wall. He saw Bowie detach himself from the other two and advance toward the cannon. A moment later, a flash from its muzzle. A heavy pork rolled over the plane and then came back in faint echoes. The Alamo had sent its answer. A deep cheer came from the Texans. Ned's heart thrilled. He had his wish. The boy looked back towards San Antonio and his eyes were caught by something red on the tower of the church of San Fernando. It rose, expanded swiftly and then burst out into great folds. It was a blood red flag flying now in the wind, the flag of no quarter. No Texan would be spared and Ned knew it. Nevertheless, his heart thrilled again. End of chapter eight, recording by Edmonds. Chapter nine of the Texan Scouts. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Edmonds. The Texan Scouts by Joseph Faye Outsheller. Chapter nine. Ned gazed long at the great red flag as its folds waved in the wind. A chill ran down his spine. A strange throbbing sensation, but not a fear. There were a tiny islet there amid a Mexican sea which threatened to roll over them. But the signal of the flag, he realized, merely told him that which he had expected all the time. He knew Santa Ana. He would show no quarter to those who had humbled Coasts and his forces at San Antonio. The boy was not assigned to the watch that night, but he could not sleep for a long time. Among those borders there was discipline, but it was discipline of their own kind, not that of the military Martinette. Ned was free to go about as he chose, and he even went to the great pleasant which they now had driven the cattle. Some supplies of hay had been gathered for them, and having eaten, they were now all at rest and herd, packed close against the western side of the wall. Ned passed near them, but they paid no attention to him, and going on he climbed upon the portion of the wall which ran close to the river. Some distance to his right and an equal distance to his left were sentinels, but there was nothing to keep him from leaping down from the wall or the outside and disappearing. The Mexican investment was not yet complete. Yet no such thought ever entered Ned's head. His best friends, Will Allen, the Panther and Obed White, were out there somewhere if they were still alive, but his heart was now here in the Alamo with the Texans. He listened intensely, but he heard no sound of any Mexican advance. It occurred to him that a formidable attack might be made here, particularly under the cover of darkness. A dashing leader like the younger Ureya might attempt a surprise. He dropped back inside and went to one of the sentinels who was standing on an abutment with his head just showing above the wall. He was a young man, not more than two or three years older than Ned, and he was glad to have company. Have you heard or seen anything, asked Ned? No, replied the sentinel, but I've been looking for him down this way. They waited a little longer, and then Ned was quite sure that he saw a dim form in the darkness. He pointed toward it, but the sentinel could not see it at all, as Ned's eyes were much the keener. But the shape grew clearer and Ned's heart throbbed. The figure was that of a great horse and Ned recognized old Jack. Nothing could have persuaded him that the faithful beast was not seeking his master, and he emitted a low, soft whistle. The horse raised his head, listened, and then trotted forward. He's mine, said Ned, and he knows me. He won't be yours much longer, said the sentinel. Look, there's a Mexican creeping along the ground after him. Ned followed the pointing figure and how he noticed the Mexican, a vequero, who had been crouching so low that his figure blurred with the earth. Ned saw the coiled lariat hanging over his arm, and he knew that the man intended to capture old Jack, a prize worth any effort. Do you think I ought to shoot him, asked the sentinel? Not yet, at least, replied Ned. I bought my horse into this danger, but I think that he'll take himself out of it. Old Jack had paused, as if uncertain which way to go, but Ned felt sure that he was watching the Mexican out of the tail of his eye. The vequero, emboldened by the prospect of such a splendid prize, crept closer and closer, and then suddenly threw the lasso. The horse's head ducked down swiftly. The coil of the rope slipped back over his head, and he dashed at the Mexican. The vequero was barely in time to escape those terrible hoofs, but howling with terror, he sprang clear and raced away in the darkness. The horse whinnied once or twice gently, waited, and when no answer came to his call, trot off into the dusk. No Mexican will take you, oh, said the sentinel. You're right when you say that, said Ned. I don't think another will ever get so near him, but if he should, you see that my horse knows how to take care of himself. Ned wandered back toward the convent yard. It was now late, but a clear moon was shining. He saw the figures of the sentinels clearly on the walls, but he was confident that no attack would be made by the Mexicans that night. His great tension and excitement began to relax, and he felt that he could sleep. He decided that the old hospital would be a good place, and, taking his blankets, he entered the long room of that building. Only the moonlight shone there, but a friendly voice held him at once. It's time you were hunting rest, Ned, said David Crockett. I saw you wander around as if you was carrying the world in your shoulders, but I didn't say anything. I knew that you would come if left to yourself. There's a place over there by the wall where the floor seems to be a little softer than it is most everywhere else. Take it and enjoy it. Ned laughed and took the place to which Crockett was pointing. The hardness of a floor was nothing to him, and with one blanket under him and another over him, he went to sleep quickly, sleeping in the night through without a dream. He woke early, took a breakfast of fresh beef with the men in the convent yard, and then, rifle in hand, he remounted the church wall. All his intensity of feeling returned with the morning. He was eager to see what was passing beyond the Alamo, and the first object that caught his eye was the blood-red flag of no quarter, hanging from the chower of the church of San Fernando. No wind was blowing, and it drooped in heavy, scarlet folds like a pall. Looking from the flag to the earth, he saw great activity in the Mexican lines. Three or four batteries were being placed in position, and Mexican officers, evidently messengers, were galloping about. The flat roofs of the houses in San Antonio were covered with people. Ned knew that they were there to see Santa Anna win a quick victory and take immediate vengeance upon the Texans. He recognized Santa Anna himself riding in his crouched attitude upon a great white horse, passing from battery to battery and hurrying the work. There was proof that his presence was effective, as the man always worked faster when he came. Ned saw all the Texan leaders, Travis, Bowie, Crockett, and Bonham watching the batteries. The whole Texan force was now manning the walls and heavy cedar palisade at many points, but Ned saw that for the present, all their dealings would be with the cannon. Earthworks have been thrown up to protect the Mexican batteries, and the Texan cannon were posted for reply, but Ned noticed that his comrades seemed to think little of artillery, and this desperate crisis they fondled their rifles lovingly. He was still watching the batteries when a gush of smoke and flame came from one of the cannon. There's a great shout in the Mexican lines, but the round shot spent itself against the massive stone walls of the mission. They'll have to send out a stronger call than that, said David Crockett contemptuously, before this cone comes down. Travis went along the walls, saw that the Texans were sheltering themselves and waited. There's another heavy report, and the second round shot struck harmlessly upon the stone. Then the full bombardment began. A half dozen batteries rain shots and shell upon the Alamo. The roar was continuous like the steady roll of thunder, and it beat upon the drums of Ned's ears until he thought he would become deaf. He was crouched behind the stone parapet, but he looked up often enough to see what was going on. He saw a vast cloud of smoke gathering over river and town, rent continually by flashes of fire from the muzzles of the cannon. The air was full of hissing metal, shot and shell poured in a storm upon the Alamo. Now and then the Texan cannon replied, but not often. The cannon fire was so great that for a time it shook Ned's nerves. It seemed as if nothing could live through such a rain of missiles, but when he looked along the parapet and saw all the Texans unharmed, his courage came back. Many of the balls were falling inside the church, in the convent yard and in the plazas, but the Texans, they were protected also, and as far as Ned could see, not a single man had been wounded. The cannon aide continued for a full hour and then ceased abruptly. The great cloud of smoke began to lift and the Alamo, river and town, came again into the brilliant sunlight. The word passed swiftly among the defenders that their fortress was uninjured and not a man hurt. As the smoke rose higher, Ned saw Mexican officers with glasses examining the Alamo to see what damage their cannon had done. He hoped they would feel mortification when they found it was so little. David Crockett knelt near him on the parapet and ran his hand lovingly along the barrel of Betsy as one strokes the head of a child. Do you want some more rifles, Davey? asked Bowie. Just about half a dozen, replied Crockett. I think I can use that many before they clear out. Six of the long barrel Texan rifles were laid at Crockett's feet. Ned watched with absorbed interest. Crockett's eye was on the nearest battery and he was slowly raising Betsy. Which is to be the first, Davey, asked Bowie. The one with a rammer in his hand. Crockett took a single brief look down the sights and pulled the trigger. The man with the rammer dropped to the earth and the rammer fell beside him. He lay quite still. Crockett seized his second rifle and fired. A loader fell and he also lay still. A third rifle shot almost as quick as a flash and a gunner went down. A fourth and a man out of a wheel fell. A fifth and in a young airing bullet claimed a sponger. A sixth and a Mexican just springing to cover was wounded in the shoulder. Then Crockett remained with the seventh rifle still loaded in his hands as there was nothing to shoot at. All the Mexicans now being hidden. But Crockett, kneeling on the parapet, the rifle cocked in his finger on the trigger, watched in case any of the Mexicans should expose himself again. He presented to Ned the simile of some powerful animal about to spring. The lean, muscular figure was poised for instant action and all the whimsicality of humor were gone from the eyes of the sharpshooter. A mighty shot of triumph burst from the Texans. Many a good marksman was there but never before had they seen such shooting. The great reputation of David Crockett, universal in the Southwest was justified fully. The crew of the gun had been annihilated in less than a minute. For a while there was silence. Then the Mexicans protected by the earthwork that they had thrown up drew the battery back 100 yards. Even in the further batteries the men were very careful about exposing themselves. The Texans seeing no sure target held their fire. The Mexicans opened up a new cannonade and for another half hour the roar of the great guns drowned all other sounds. But when it ceased and the smoke drifted away the Texans were still unharmed. Ned was now by the side of Bowie who showed great satisfaction. What will they do next? Asked Ned. I don't know but you see now it's not the biggest noise it has the most. They'll never get us with cannon fire. The only way they can do it is to attack the lowest part of our wall and make a bridge of their own bodies. They're doing something now said Ned whose farsighted vision always served him well. They are pulling down houses in the town next to the river. That's so said Bowie but we don't have to wait long to see what they're about. Hundreds of Mexicans with wrecking hooks had assailed three or four of the houses which they quickly pulled to pieces. Others ran forward with the materials and began to build a bridge across the narrow San Antonio. They want to cross over on that bridge and get into a position that wants closer and more sheltered said Bowie but unless I make a big mistake those men at work there are already within range of all rifles. Shall we open fire Colonel? He asked the question of Travis who nodded. A picked band of Mexicans under General Castrallion were gathered in a mass and were rapidly fitting together the timbers of the houses to make the narrow bridge but the reach of the Texan rifles was great and David Crockett was merely the king among so many sharpshooters. The rifles began to flash and crack. No man fired until he was sure of his aim and no two picked the same target. The Mexicans fell fast and five minutes 30 or 40 were killed. Some of them falling into the river and the rest dropping the timbers fled with shouts of horror from the fatal spot. General Castrallion, a brave man sought to drive them back but neither blows nor oaths availed. Santa Ana himself came and made many threats but the men would not stir. They preferred punishment to the sure death that awaited them from the muzzles of the Texan rifles. The light puffs of rifle smoke were quickly gone and once more the town with the people watching on the flat roofs came into full view. A wind burst out of the folds of the red flag of no quarter on the tower of the church of San Fernando but Ned paid no attention to it now. He was watching for Santa Ana's next move. That's a bridge that will never be built. Said David Crockett. I'll even learn is a good sign, I suppose but a lot of them Mexicans never lived nor learned. It's been a great day for Betsy here. Travis, the commander showed elation. Well thanks Santa Ana will realize now, he said that he is neither a pomegranate nor a picnic before him. Oh if we only had six or 700 men instead of less than 150. We must stand for help said boy. The numbers of Santa Ana will continually increase but we are not yet entirely surrounded. If the Texans know that we are beleaguered here they will come to our help. I will send messengers tomorrow night said Travis. The Texans are much scattered but it's likely that some will come. It was strange but it was characteristic of them nevertheless that no one made any mention of escape. Many could have stolen away in the night over the lower walls. Perhaps all could have done so but not a single Texan ever spoke of such a thing and not one ever attempted it. Santa Ana moved some of the batteries and also erected two new ones. When the work on the ladder was finished all opened in another tremendous cannonate lasting for fully an hour. The bank of smoke was heavier than ever and the roaring in Ned's ears was incessant but now he felt no awe. He was growing used to the cannon fire and as it did so little harm he felt no apprehension. While the fire was at its height he went down in the church and cleaned his rifle. Although he took the precaution to remain in one of the covered rooms by the doorway Davy Crockett was there also busy with the same task. Before they finished the cannon ball dropped on the floor bounded against the wall and rebounded several times until it finally lay at rest. Something like a big egg then said Crockett. It's just as well to keep a stone roof over your head when you're under fire. Thank you, dozen cannon. Never take those risks Ned for the sake of showing off. That's the advice of an old man. Crockett spoke very earnestly and Ned remembered his words. Bonham called them to a few minutes later that the Mexicans seemed to be meditating some movement on the lower wall around the Grand Plaza. Like is now your right said Crockett. It'll be the time to try while our attention was attracted by the big cannonite. Crockett himself was detailed to meet the new movement and he led 50 sharpshooters. Ned was with him, his brain throbbing with the certainty that he was going into action once more. Great quantities of smoke hung over the Alamo and it penetrated every part of it. It crept into Ned's throat and it also stung his eyes. It inflamed his brain and increased his desire for combat. They reached the low wall on a run and found that Bonham was right. A large force of Mexicans was approaching from that side evidently expecting to make an opening under the cover of the smoke. The assailants were already within range and the deadly Texan rifles began to crack at once from the wall. The whole front line of the Mexican column was quickly burned away. The return fire of the Mexicans was hasty and irregular and they soon broke and ran. And the ants over said Crockett as he sent a parting shot. It was easy, being sheltered not a man of ours was hurt but Ned don't let the idea that we have a picnic here run away with you. We got to watch and watch and fight and fight all the time and every day more Mexicans will come. I understand Mr. Crockett said Ned, you know that we may never get out of here alive and I know it too, you speak the truth lad said Crockett very soberly. But remember, it's a chance we have to take ever here in the Southwest and it's pleasant to know that they're all brave men here together. You haven't seen any flinching on the part of anybody and I don't think you ever will. What are you going to do now? I'm gonna eat dinner and after that I'll take a nap. My advice to you is to do the same because you'll be on watch tonight. I know I can eat said Ned and I'll try to sleep. He found that his appetite was all right and after dinner he lay down in the long room of the hospital. Here he heard the cannon of Santa Anna still thundering but the walls softened the sound somewhat and made it seem much more distant. In a way it was soothing and Ned, although sure he could not sleep slept. All that afternoon he was rocked into deeper slumber by the continuous roar of the Mexican guns. Smoke floated over the convent yard and through all the buildings but it did not disturb him. Now and then a flash of rifle fire came from the Texans on the walls but that did not disturb him either. Nature was paying its debt. The boy lying on the blankets breathed deeply and regularly as he slept. The hours of the afternoon passed one by one and it was dark when he awoke. The fire of the cannon had now ceased and two or three lights were burning in the hospital. Crockett was already up and with some of the other men was eating beef steak at a table. You said you'd try to sleep Ned he exclaimed and you must have made a big try because you snored so loud we couldn't hear Santa Anna's cannon. Why I'm sure I don't snore Mr. Crockett said Ned read in the face. No you don't snore I'll take that back said David Crockett when the laughs subsided but I never saw a young man sleep more beautifully and skillfully why the rising and falling old chest was regular as the ticking of a clock. Ned joined them at the table. He did not mind the jests of those men as they did not mind the jests of one another. They were now like close blood kin. They were a band of brethren bound together by the unbreakable tie of mortal danger. Ned spent two thirds of the night on the church wall the Mexicans let the cannon rest in the darkness and only a few rifle shots were fired but there were many lights in San Antonio and on the outskirts two great bonfires burned. Santa Anna and his generals feeling that their prey could not escape from the trap and carrying little for the peones who had been slain were making a festival. It is even said that Santa Anna on this campaign although he left a wife in the city of Mexico exercise the privileges of an Oriental ruler and married another amid great rejoicings. Ned slept soundly when his watch was finished and he awoke again the next day to the thunder of the cannonade which continued almost without cessation throughout the day but in the afternoon Travis wrote a letter a noble appeal to the people of Texas for help. He stated that they had been under a continual bombardment for more than 24 hours but not a man had yet been hurt. I shall never surrender or retreat he said then I'll call you on the name of liberty of patriotism and of everything dear to the American character to come to our aid with all dispatch. He closed with the three words victory or death not written in any vein glory or with any melodramatic appeal both the full consciousness of the desperate crisis and a quiet resolution to do as he said the heroic letter is now in the possession of the state of Texas. Most of the men in the Alamo knew its contents and they approved of it. When it was fully dark Travis gave it to Albert Martin then he looked around for another messenger. Two should go together in case of mishap he said. His eye fell upon Ned. If you wish to go I'll send you he said but I'll leave it to your choice. If you prefer to stay you stay. Ned's first impulse was to go. You might find Obed White, Will Allen and the Panther out there and bring them back with him but his second impulse told him that it was only a chance and he would abide with Crockett and Bowie. I thank you for the offer but I think sir that I'll stay he said. He saw Crockett give him a swift approving glance. Another was quickly chosen in his stead and Ned was in the grand plaza when they dropped over the low wall and disappeared in the darkness. His comrades and he listened attentively for a long time but as they heard no sound of shots they were sure that they were now safe beyond the Mexican lines. I don't want to discourage anybody said Bowie but I'm not hoping much from the messengers. The Texans have scattered too widely. No they can't bring many said Crockett but every man counts. Sometimes it takes mind a little to turn the tail and they may turn it. I hope so said Bowie. The Mexican cannon were silent that night and Ned slept deeply awaking only when a dawn of a clear day came. He was astonished at the quickness with which he grew used to the state of siege and imminent danger. All the habits of life now went on as usual. He ate breakfast with his good and appetite as if he had been out on the prairie with his friends and he talked with his new comrades as if Santa Ana and his army were a thousand miles away. But when he did go upon the church wall he saw that Santa Ana had begun work again and had a new place. The Mexican general having seen that his artillery was doing no damage was making a great effort to get within much closer range where the balls would count. Men protected by heavy planking or advancing along trenches were seeking to erect a battery within less than 300 yards of the entrance to the main plaza. They had already thrown up a part of a breastwork. Meanwhile, the Texan sharpshooters were waiting for a chance. Ned took no part in it except that of a spectator but Crockett, Bowie, and a dozen others were crouched on the wall with the rifles. Presently an unconscious Mexican showed above the earthwork. It was Crockett who slew him but Bowie took the next. Then the other rifles flashed fast. Eight or 10 Mexicans were slain and the rest fled. Once more the deadly Texan rifles had triumphed. Ned wondered why Santa Ana had endeavored to place the battery there in the daytime. It could be done at night when it was impossible for the Texans to aim their rifles so well. He did not know that the pride of Santa Ana unable to brook delay in the face of so small a force had pushed him forward. Knowing now what might be done at night Ned passed the day in anxiety and with the coming of the twilight his anxiety increased. End of chapter nine recording by Edmunds.