CHAPTER X
CROCKETT AND BOWIE
Unluckily for the Texans, the night was the darkest of the month. Nobonfires burned in San Antonio, and there were no sounds of music. Itseemed to Ned that the silence and darkness were sure indications ofaction on the part of the foe.
He felt more lonely and depressed than at any other time hitherto in thesiege, and he was glad when Crockett and a young Tennesseean whom hecalled the Bee-Hunter joined him. Crockett had not lost any of hiswhimsical good humor, and when Ned suggested that Santa Anna was likelyto profit by the dark he replied:
"If he is the general I take him to be he will, or at least try, butmeanwhile we'll just wait, an' look, an' listen. That's the way to findout if things are goin' to happen. Don't turn little troubles into bigones. You don't need a cowskin for a calf. We'll jest rest easy. I'mmighty nigh old enough to be your grandfather, Ned, an' I've learned totake things as they come. I guess men of my age were talkin' this sameway five thousand years ago."
"You've seen a lot in your life, Mr. Crockett," said Ned, to whom theTennesseean was a great hero.
Crockett laughed low, but deep in his throat, and with much pleasure.
"So I have! So I have!" he replied, "an', by the blue blazes, I can sayit without braggin'. I've seen a lot of water go by since I was runnin''roun' a bare-footed boy in Tennessee. I've ranged pretty far from eastto west, an' all the way from Boston in the north to this old mission,an' that must be some thousands of miles. An' I've had some big times inNew York, too."
"You've been in New York," said Ned, with quick interest. "It must be agreat town."
"It is. It's certainly a bulger of a place. There are thousands an'thousands of houses, an' you can't count the sails in the bay. I saw theCity Hall an' it's a mighty fine buildin', too. It's all marble on theside looking south, an' plain stone on the side lookin' north. I askedwhy, an' they said all the poor people lived to the north of it. That'sthe way things often happen, Ned. An' I saw the great, big hotel JohnJacob Astor was beginnin' to build on Broadway just below the City Hall.They said it would cost seven hundred thousand dollars, which is anall-fired lot of money, that it would cover mighty nigh a whole block,an' that there would be nothin' else in America comin' up to it."
"I'd like to see that town," said Ned.
"Maybe you will some day," said Crockett, "'cause you're young. Youdon't know how young you look to me. I heard a lot there, Ned, aboutthat rich man, Mr. Astor. He got his start as a fur trader. I guess hewas about the biggest fur trader that ever was. He was so active thatall them animals that wore furs on their backs concluded they might aswell give up. I heard one story there about an otter an' a beavertalkin'. Says the otter to the beaver, when he was tellin' the beavergood-by after a visit: 'Farewell, I never expect to see you again, mydear old friend.' 'Don't be too much distressed,' replies the beaver,'you an' I, old comrade, will soon meet at the hat store.'"
Ned and the Bee-Hunter laughed, and Crockett delved again into his pastlife and his experiences in the great city, relatively as great then tothe whole country as it is now.
"I saw a heap of New York," he continued, "an' one of the things I likedbest in it was the theaters. Lad, I saw the great Fanny Kemble playthere, an' she shorely was one of the finest women that ever walked thistroubled earth. I saw her first as Portia in that play of Shakespeare'scalled, called, called----"
"'The Merchant of Venice,'" suggested Ned.
"Yes, that's it, 'The Merchant of Venice,' where she was the womanlawyer. She was fine to see, an' the way she could change her voice an'looks was clean mirac'lous. If ever I need a lawyer I want her to actfor me. She had me mad, an' then she had me laughin', an' then she hadthe water startin' in my eyes. Whatever she wanted me to see I saw, an'whatever she wanted me to think I thought. An' then, too, she was manykinds of a woman, different in turn. In fact, Ned, she was just like ahandsome piece of changeable silk--first one color an' then another, butalways clean."
He paused and the others did not interrupt him.
"I don't like cities," he resumed presently. "They crowd me up too much,but I do like the theater. It makes you see so many things an' so manykinds of people that you wouldn't have time to see if you had to travelfor 'em. We don't have much chance to travel right now, do we,Bee-Hunter?"
"A few hundred yards only for our bodies," replied the youngTennesseean, "but our spirits soar far;
"'Up with your banner, Freedom, Thy champions cling to thee, They'll follow where'er you lead them To death or victory. Up with your banner, Freedom.'"
He merely hummed the words, but Ned caught his spirit and he repeated tohimself: "Up with your banner, Freedom."
"I guess you've heard enough tales from an old fellow like me," saidCrockett. "At least you won't have time to hear any more 'cause theMexicans must be moving out there. Do you hear anything, Ned?"
"Nothing but a little wind."
"Then my ears must be deceivin' me. I've used 'em such a long time thatI guess they feel they've got a right to trick me once in a while."
But Ned was thinking just then of the great city which he wanted to seesome day as Crockett had seen it. But it seemed to him at that moment asfar away as the moon. Would his comrades and he ever escape from thosewalls?
His mind came back with a jerk. He did hear something on the plain.Crockett was right. He heard the tread of horses and the sound of wheelsmoving. He called the attention of Crockett to the noises.
"I think I know what causes them," said Crockett. "Santa Anna isplanting his battery under the cover of the night an' I don't see, boys,how we're goin' to keep him from doin' it."
The best of the Texan sharpshooters lined the walls, and they firedoccasionally at indistinct and flitting figures, but they were quitecertain that they did no execution. The darkness was too great. Travis,Bowie and Crockett considered the possibility of a sortie, but theydecided that it had no chance of success. The few score Texans would beoverwhelmed in the open plain by the thousands of Mexicans.
But all the leaders were uneasy. If the Mexican batteries were broughtmuch closer, and were protected by earthworks and other fortifications,the Alamo would be much less defensible. It was decided to send anothermessenger for help, and Ned saw Bonham drop over the rear wall and slipaway in the darkness. He was to go to Goliad, where Fannin had 300 menand four guns, and bring them in haste.
When Bonham was gone Ned returned to his place on the wall. For hours heheard the noises without, the distant sound of voices, the heavy clankof metal against metal, and he knew full well that Santa Anna wasplanting his batteries. At last he went to his place in the long room ofthe hospital and slept.
When dawn came he sprang up and rushed to the wall. There was thebattery of Santa Anna only three hundred yards from the entrance to themain plaza and to the southeast, but little further away, was another.The Mexicans had worked well during the night.
"They're creepin' closer, Ned. They're creepin' closer," said Crockett,who had come to the wall before him, "but even at that range I don'tthink their cannon will do us much harm. Duck, boy, duck! They're goin'to fire!"
The two batteries opened at the same time, and the Mexican masses in therear, out of range, began a tremendous cheering. Many of the balls andshells now fell inside the mission, but the Texans stayed well undercover and they still escaped without harm. The Mexican gunners, in theirturn, kept so well protected that the Texan riflemen had little chance.
The great bombardment lasted an hour, but when it ceased, and the smokelifted, Ned saw a heavy mass of Mexican cavalry on the eastern road.
Both Ned and Crockett took a long look at the cavalry, a fine body ofmen, some carrying lances and others muskets. Ned believed that herecognized Urrea in the figure of their leader, but the distance was toogreat for certainty. But when he spoke of it to Crockett the Tenesseeanborrowed Travis' field glasses.
"Take these," he said, "an' if it's that beloved enemy of yours you cansoon tell."
> The boy, with the aid of the glasses, recognized Urrea at once. Theyoung leader in the uniform of a Mexican captain and with a cocked andplumed hat upon his head sat his horse haughtily. Ned knew that he wasswelling with pride and that he, like Santa Anna, expected the trap toshut down on the little band of Texans in a day or two. He felt somebitterness that fate should have done so much for Urrea.
"I judge by your face," said Crockett whimsically, "that it is Urrea.But remember, Ned, that you can still be hated and live long."
"It is indeed Urrea," said Ned. "Now what are they gathering cavalry outthere for? They can't expect to gallop over our walls."
"Guess they've an idea that we're goin' to try to slip out an' they'reshuttin' up that road of escape. Seems to me, Ned, they're comin' soclose that it's an insult to us."
"They're almost within rifle shot."
"Then these bad little Mexican boys must have their faces scorched as alesson. Just you wait here, Ned, till I have a talk with Travis an'Bowie."
It was obvious to Ned that Crockett's talk with the commander and hissecond was satisfactory, because when he returned his face was in abroad grin. Bowie, moreover, came with him, and his blue eyes werelighted up with the fire of battle.
"We're goin' to teach 'em the lesson, Ned, beginnin' with a b c," saidCrockett, "an' Jim here, who has had a lot of experience in Texas, willlead us. Come along, I'll watch over you."
A force of seventy or eighty was formed quickly, and hidden from theview of the Mexicans, they rushed down the plaza, climbed the low wallsand dropped down upon the plain. The Mexican cavalry outnumbered themfour or five to one, but the Texans cared little for such odds.
"Now, boys, up with your rifles!" cried Bowie. "Pump it into 'em!"
Bowie was a product of the border, hard and desperate, a man of manyfierce encounters, but throughout the siege he had been singularlygentle and considerate in his dealings with his brother Texans. Now hewas all warrior again, his eyes blazing with blue fire while he shoutedvehement words of command to his men.
The sudden appearance of the Texan riflemen outside the Alamo look Urreaby surprise, but he was quick of perception and action, and hiscavalrymen were the best in the Mexican army. He wheeled them into linewith a few words of command and shouted to them to charge. Bowie's meninstantly stopped, forming a rough line, and up went their rifles.Urrea's soldiers who carried rifles or muskets opened a hasty andexcited fire at some distance.
Ned heard the bullets singing over his head or saw them kicking up dustin front of the Texans, but only one of the Texans fell and but few werewounded. The Mexican rifles or muskets were now empty, but the Mexicanlancers came on in good order and in an almost solid group, the yellowsunlight flashing across the long blades of their lances.
It takes a great will to face sharp steel in the hands of horsementhundering down upon you, and Ned was quite willing to own afterwardthat every nerve in him was jumping, but he stood. All stood, and at thecommand of Bowie their rifles flashed together in one tremendousexplosion.
The rifles discharged, the Texans instantly snatched out their pistols,ready for anything that might come galloping through the smoke. Butnothing came. When the smoke lifted they saw that the entire front ofthe Mexican column was gone. Fallen men and horses were thick on theplain and long lances lay across them. Other horses, riderless, weregalloping away to right and left, and unhorsed men were running to therear. But Urrea had escaped unharmed. Ned saw him trying to reform hisshattered force.
"Reload your rifles, men!" shouted Bowie. "You can be ready for thembefore they come again!"
These were skilled sharpshooters, and they rammed the loads home withstartling rapidity. Every rifle was loaded and a finger was on everytrigger when the second charge of Urrea swept down upon them. No need ofa command from Bowie now. The Texans picked their targets and firedstraight into the dense group. Once more the front of the Mexican columnwas shot away, and the lances fell clattering on the plain.
"At 'em, boys, with your pistols!" shouted Bowie. "Don't give 'em asecond chance!"
The Texans rushed forward, firing their pistols. Ned in the smoke becameseparated from his comrades, and when he could see more clearly hebeheld but a single horseman. The man was Urrea.
The two recognized each other instantly. The Mexican had the advantage.He was on horseback and the smoke was in Ned's eyes, not his own. With ashout of triumph, he rode straight at the boy and made a fierce sweepwith his cavalry saber. It was fortunate for Ned that he was agile ofboth body and mind. He ducked and leaped to one side. He felt the swishof the heavy steel over his head, but as he came up again he fired.
Urrea was protected largely by his horse's neck, and Ned fired at thehorse instead, although he would have greatly preferred Urrea as atarget. The bullet struck true and the horse fell, but the rider leapedclear and, still holding the saber, sprang at his adversary. Nedsnatched up his rifle, which lay on the ground at his feet, and receivedthe slash of the sword upon its barrel. The blade broke in two, andthen, clubbing his rifle, Ned struck.
It was fortunate for Urrea, too, that he was agile of mind and body. Hesprang back quickly, but the butt of the rifle grazed his head and drewblood. The next moment other combatants came between, and Urrea dashedaway in search of a fresh horse. Ned, his blood on fire, was rushingafter him, when Bowie seized his arm and pulled him back.
"No further, Ned!" he cried. "We've scattered their cavalry and we mustget back into the Alamo or the whole Mexican army will be upon us!"
Ned heard far away the beat of flying hoofs. It was made by the horsesof the Mexican cavalry fleeing for their lives. Bowie quickly gatheredtogether his men, and carrying with them two who had been slain in thefight they retreated rapidly to the Alamo, the Texan cannon firing overtheir heads at the advancing Mexican infantry. In three or four minutesthey were inside the walls again and with their comrades.
The Mexican cavalry did not reappear upon the eastern road, and theTexans were exultant, yet they had lost two good men and their joy soongave way to more solemn feelings. It was decided to bury the slain atonce in the plaza, and a common grave was made for them. They were thefirst of the Texans to fall in the defence, and their fate made a deepimpression upon everybody.
It took only a few minutes to dig the grave, and the men, laid side byside, were covered with their cloaks. While the spades were yet at workthe Mexican cannon opened anew upon the Alamo. A ball and a bomb fell inthe plaza. The shell burst, but fortunately too far away to hurtanybody. Neither the bursting of the shell nor any other part of thecannonade interrupted the burial.
Crockett, a public man and an orator, said a few words. They weresympathetic and well chosen. He spoke of the two men as dying for Texas.Others, too, would fall in the defence of the Alamo, but their bloodwould water the tree of freedom. Then they threw in the dirt. WhileCrockett was speaking the cannon still thundered without, but every wordcould be heard distinctly.
When Ned walked away he felt to the full the deep solemnity of themoment. Hitherto they had fought without loss to themselves. The deathof the two men now cast an ominous light over the situation. The Mexicanlines were being drawn closer and closer about the Alamo, and he wascompelled to realize the slenderness of their chances.
The boy resumed his place on the wall, remaining throughout theafternoon, and watched the coming of the night. Crockett joined him, andtogether they saw troops of Mexicans marching away from the main body,some to right and some to left.
"Stretchin' their lines," said Crockett. "Santa Anna means to close usin entirely after a while. Now, by the blue blazes, that was a closeshave!"
A bullet sang by his head and flattened against the wall. He and Neddropped down just in time. Other bullets thudded against the stone.Nevertheless, Ned lifted his head above the edge of the parapet and tooka look. His eyes swept a circle and he saw little puffs of smoke comingfrom the roofs and windows of the jacals or Mexican huts on their sideof the river. He knew at once that the best of the Mexican s
harpshootershad hidden themselves there, and had opened fire not with muskets, butwith improved rifles. He called Crockett's attention to this point ofdanger and the frontiersman grew very serious.
"We've got to get 'em out some way or other," he said. "As I saidbefore, the cannon balls make a big fuss, but they don't come so oftenan' they come at random. It's the little bullets that have the sting ofthe wasp, an' when a man looks down the sights, draws a bead on you, an'sends one of them lead pellets at you, he gen'rally gets you. Ned, we'vegot to drive them fellers out of there some way or other."
The bullets from the jacals now swept the walls and the truth ofCrockett's words became painfully evident. The Texan cannon fired uponthe huts, but the balls went through the soft adobe and seemed to do noharm. It was like firing into a great sponge. Triumphant shouts camefrom the Mexicans. Their own batteries resumed the cannonade, whiletheir sheltered riflemen sent in the bullets faster and faster.
Crockett tapped the barrel of Betsy significantly.
"The work has got to be done with this old lady an' others like her," hesaid. "We must get rid of them jacals."
"How?" asked Ned.
"You come along with me an' I'll show you," said Crockett. "I'm goin' tohave a talk with Travis, an' if he agrees with me we'll soon wipe outthat wasps' nest."
Crockett briefly announced his plan, which was bold in the extreme.Sixty picked riflemen, twenty of whom bore torches also, would rush outat one of the side gates, storm the jacals, set fire to them, and thenrush back to the Alamo.
Travis hesitated. The plan seemed impossible of execution in face of thegreat Mexican force. But Bowie warmly seconded Crockett, and at last thecommander gave his consent. Ned at once asked to go with the daringtroop, and secured permission. The band gathered in a close body by oneof the gates. The torches were long sticks lighted at the end andburning strongly. The men had already cocked their rifles, but knowingthe immense risk they were about to take they were very quiet. Ned waspale, and his heart beat painfully, but his hand did not shake.
The Texan cannon, to cover the movement, opened fire from the walls, andthe riflemen, posted at various points, helped also. The Mexicancannonade increased. When the thunder and crash were at their height thegate was suddenly thrown open and the sixty dashed out. Fortunately thedrifting smoke hid them partially, and they were almost upon the jacalsbefore they were discovered.
A great shout came from the Mexicans when they saw the daring Texansoutside, and bullets from the jacals began to knock up grass and dustabout them. But Crockett himself, waving a torch, led them on, shouting:
"It's only a step, boys! It's only a step! Now, let 'em have it!"
The Texans fired as they rushed, but they took care to secure good aim.The Mexicans were driven from the roofs and the windows and then theTexans carrying the torches dashed inside. Every house containedsomething inflammable, which was quickly set on fire, and two or threehuts made of wood were lighted in a dozen places.
The dry materials blazed up fast. A light wind fanned the flames, whichjoined together and leaped up, a roaring pyramid. The Mexicans, who hadlately occupied them, were scuttling like rabbits toward their mainforce, and the Texan bullets made them jump higher and faster.
Crockett, with a shout of triumph, flung down his torch.
"Now, boys," he cried. "Here's the end of them jacals. Nothin' on earthcan put out that fire, but if we don't make a foot race back to theAlamo the end of us will be here, too, in a minute."
The little band wheeled for its homeward rush. Ned heard a great shoutof rage from the Mexicans, and then the hissing and singing of shellsand cannon balls over his head. He saw Mexicans running across the plainto cut them off, but his comrades and he had reloaded their rifles, andas they ran they sent a shower of bullets that drove back their foe.
Ned's heart was pumping frightfully, and myriads of black specks dancedbefore his eyes, but he remembered afterward that he calculated how farthey were from the Alamo, and how far the Mexicans were from them. Anumber of his comrades had been wounded, but nobody had fallen and theystill raced in a close group for the gate, which seemed to recede asthey rushed on.
"A few more steps, Ned," cried Crockett, "an' we're in! Ah, there go ourfriends!"
The Texan cannon over their heads now fired into the pursuing Mexicanmasses, and the sharpshooters on the walls also poured in a deadly hail.The Mexicans recoiled once more and then Crockett's party made good thegate.
"All here!" cried Crockett, as those inside held up torches. He ran overthe list rapidly himself and counted them all, but his face fell when hesaw his young friend the Bee-Hunter stagger. Crockett caught him in hisarms and bore him into the hospital. He and Ned watched by his sideuntil he died, which was very soon. Before he became unconscious hemurmured some lines from an old Scotch poem:
"But hame came the saddle, all bluidy to see. And hame came the steed, but never hame came he."
They buried him that night beside the other two, and Ned was more solemnthan ever when he sought his usual place in the hospital by the wall. Ithad been a day of victory for the Texans, but the omens, nevertheless,seemed to him to be bad.
The next day he saw the Mexicans spreading further and further about theAlamo, and they were in such strong force that the Texans could not nowafford to go out and attack any of these bands. A light cold rain fell,and as he was not on duty he went back to the hospital, where he sat insilence.
He was deeply depressed and the thunder of the Mexican cannon beat uponhis ears like the voice of doom. He felt a strange annoyance at thereports of the guns. His nerves jumped, and he became angry with himselfat what he considered a childish weakness.
Now, and for the first time, he felt despair. He borrowed a pencil and asheet of paper torn from an old memorandum book and made his will. Hispossessions were singularly few, and the most valuable at hand was hisfine long-barreled rifle, which he left to his faithful friend, ObedWhite. He bequeathed his pistol and knife to the Panther, and hisclothes to Will Allen. He was compelled to smile at himself when he hadfinished his page of writing. Was it likely that his friends would everfind this paper, or, if finding it, was it likely that any one of themcould ever obtain his inheritance? But it was a relief to his feelingsand, folding the paper, he put it in the inside pocket of his huntingshirt.
The bombardment was renewed in the afternoon, but Ned stayed in hisplace in the hospital. After a while Davy Crockett and several othersjoined him there. Crockett as usual was jocular, and told more storiesof his trips to the large eastern cities. He had just finished ananecdote of Philadelphia, when he turned suddenly to Ned.
"Boy," he said, "you and I have fought together more than once now, an'I like you. You are brave an' you've a head full of sense. When you growolder you'll be worth a lot to Texas. They'll need you in the council.No, don't protest. This is the time when we can say what is in us. TheMexican circle around the Alamo is almost complete. Isn't that so,boys?"
"It is."
"Then I'll say what we all know. Three or four days from now the chanceswill be a hundred to one against any of us ever gettin' out of here. An'you're the youngest of the defence, Ned, so I want you to slip outto-night while there's yet time. Mebbe you can get up a big lot of mento come to our help."
Ned looked straight at Crockett, and the veteran's eyes wavered.
"It's a little scheme you have," said Ned, "to get me out of the way.You think because I'm the youngest I ought to go off alone at night andsave my own life. Well, I'm not going. I intend to stay here and fightit out with the rest of you."
"I meant for the best, boy, I meant for the best," said Crockett. "I'man old fellow an' I've had a terrible lot of fun in my time. About asmuch, I guess, as one man is entitled to, but you've got all your lifebefore you."
"Couldn't think of it," said Ned lightly; "besides, I've got a passwordin case I'm taken by Santa Anna."
"What's that?" asked Crockett curiously.
"It's the single word 'Roylsto
n.' Mr. Roylston told me if I were takenby Santa Anna to mention his name to him."
"That's queer, an' then maybe it ain't," said Crockett musingly. "I'veheard a lot of John Roylston. He's about the biggest trader in thesouthwest. I guess he must have some sort of a financial hold on SantaAnna, who is always wantin' money. Ned, if the time should ever come,don't you forget to use that password."
The next night was dark and chilly with gusts of rain. In the afternoonthe Mexican cannonade waned, and at night it ceased entirely. The Alamoitself, except for a few small lights within the buildings, was keptentirely dark in order that skulking sharpshooters without might notfind a target.
Ned was on watch near one of the lower walls about the plaza. He wrappedhis useful serape closely about his body and the lower part of his facein order to protect himself from the cold and wet, and the broad brim ofhis sombrero was drawn down to meet it. The other Texans on guard wereprotected in similar fashion, and in the flitting glimpses that Nedcaught of them they looked to him like men in disguise.
The time went on very slowly. In the look backward every hour in theAlamo seemed to him as ten. He walked back and forth a long time,occasionally meeting other sentinels, and exchanging a few words withthem. Once he glanced at their cattle, which were packed closely under arough shed, where they lay, groaning with content. Then he went back tothe wall and noticed the dim figure of one of the sentinels going towardthe convent yard and the church.
Ned took only a single glance at the man, but he rather envied him. Theman was going off duty early, and he would soon be asleep in a warmplace under a roof. He did not think of him again until a full hourlater, when he, too, going off duty, saw a figure hidden in serape andsombrero passing along the inner edge of the plaza. The walk and figurereminded him of the man whom he had seen an hour before, and he wonderedwhy any one who could have been asleep under shelter should havereturned to the cold and rain.
He decided to follow, but the figure flitted away before him down theplaza and toward the lowest part of the wall. This was doubly curious.Moreover, it was ground for great suspicion. Ned followed swiftly. Hesaw the figure mounting the wall, as if to take position there as asentinel, and then the truth came to him in a flash. It was Urreaplaying the congenial role of spy.
Ned rushed forward, shouting. Urrea turned, snatched a pistol and fired.The bullet whistled past Ned's head. The next moment Urrea dropped overthe wall and fled away in the darkness. The other sentinels were notable to obtain a shot at him.