The Lost Gold of the Montezumas: A Story of the Alamo

  CHAPTER XV.

  THE RETURN OF THE GOLD HUNTERS.

  "Well, boys, we got in like woodchucks by the same hole we came outof," said Colonel Bowie to his men.

  "Reckon the lancers are scouting the south prairie after us yet,"replied Jim Cheyne.

  "They didn't knew about the ravine, Jim," said another ranger. "Butain't I glad we're safe in among the bushes."

  Here they were, at all events, plodding along one of the sandy avenuesof the chaparral. Both the men and their horses had a worn and jadedlook.

  "Our tramp's nearly ended," continued the colonel. "The lancers madeit a close shave from the Rio Grande to the Nueces, but we've beaten'em. We know now that Santa Anna is in Texas, and we're back in timeto take our part in the fight. We've had good weather to travel in,but so will he. It's getting on into the spring."

  "Ugh!" exclaimed Red Wolf, pausing before a tree. "Heap Comanche inbushes. Great Bear sign."

  There was a gash upon the tree, such as might be made with a knife. Itwas a curved line with a notch in the middle, for a bow with an arrow,it might be.

  "Made to-day," said Bowie, as he studied the mark. "The sap isrunning. We'll have to keep a sharp lookout if we mean to get through,but they can't know we're here."

  It was a warning of an unexpected danger, but it did not seem todepress them. On the contrary, their faces were bright and hopeful, inspite of the fact that they had left so many tired-out horses by theway that they now had only one mount left for each man.

  "We haven't lost a man," remarked Jim, cheerfully, "and we've keptevery pound of the rhino. We're going back after the rest of it, too."

  "We are!" said Bowie, with almost an appearance of enthusiasm. "We'llset out as soon as Texas is clear of Santa Anna."

  "That's it," said Joe; "but you see, as soon as he's well whipped thecoast 'll be clearer than it ever was before."

  On they pushed, and Red Wolf rode in the advance as a kind of guide.Part of the time he was hidden from his white friends by the crooks andturns of the path by which he was leading them, and now and then he hadto ride back to indicate the right way.

  "It takes a redskin," they said more than once, "and he's jest thereddest Indian there ever was."

  That was so, for the sun had not appeared to have any power over thepeculiar tint of his skin, but all the while he had seemed to begrowing older. If he had been a boy when he joined them at the Alamo,Red Wolf was now a warrior, tested by the emergencies of a veryuncommon "war-path."

  The hours went swiftly by and there was no haste to be made.

  "Go slow," had been the repeated injunction of Bowie. "The main thingis to get there."

  It must have been about noon when Red Wolf came riding back with a handlifted in warning.

  "What is it?" asked Bowie.

  "Ugh!" he said. "Great Bear in bushes. Heap Comanche. Big Knife heapsnake."

  He wheeled his mustang to the right and they followed him.

  "It's awful!" exclaimed Cheyne. "Colonel, the Comanches have joinedthe Mexicans. What about the Lipans?"

  "Fighting the Comanches," responded Bowie. "The trouble is that theyseem to be expecting us. If we can ride around 'em, though, we'll getin."

  "All right," said Jim, "but things are looking a little squally. I'dlike to give 'em a shot or two."

  "Not a shot if we can help it," said Bowie. "Wait till I show yousomething. It's only a short ride now."

  It was much longer because of the detour, and Red Wolf was now oncemore out of sight.

  "What's that?" exclaimed Bowie. "What on earth made him whoop?They've got him! Gallop, men! Save him if we can!"

  They went forward at a swifter gait, but there was no saving to bedone. They were already nearer than they had supposed to the pond andthe ruins. The young Lipan had pressed on also, with a pretty clearidea in his head. He had even ridden to the border of the open, andhad been looking out and around it searchingly.

  "Ugh!" he said, "Great Bear no come!"

  "Ugh!" exclaimed a deep voice from a thicket near him. "Castro!"

  "Whoo-oo-oop!" burst from the lips of Red Wolf, and he wheeled his ponyright into the thicket. "Castro!"

  He could not have held in that burst of surprise and joy, nor could thechief himself have done otherwise than to come out from hishiding-place with a great bound. Swift, indeed, were the explanationswhich were exchanged. Only a brief outline could be given by Red Wolfof his wonderful campaign in Mexico. The particulars would have towait. Castro himself could do but little better at that moment.

  "Tetzcatl heap liar!" contained the root of the matter.

  He had said very little more than that when they heard hushed voices inthe pathway near them.

  "Jest about yer it was," said one.

  "Look out sharp now!" said another.

  "I'll find his carkiss if I can," came from Joe. "He was a buster.But what did he whoop for?"

  "He ort not to," remarked Jim, "but I s'pose he couldn't help it. Nowthey'll all know we've come. But I just liked that young feller."

  "Ugh!" said Castro. "Heap friend of Red Wolf. Boy talk."

  Out darted Red Wolf, and in a moment more there were heartyhand-shakings all around.

  Castro had ghastly tokens to show of the blows he had stricken upon hisComanche enemies, but now he gave also a better account of the mannerof his separation from his friends on the night after they went overthe Rio Grande.

  There had been, as Tetzcatl had reported, a sharp brush between theLipans and a party of Comanches. The old Tlascalan had only overstatedthe affair in order that he might carry off the Texans with him.

  "All gone" had been partly true, nevertheless, for the Lipans, losing afew braves, had been forced to retreat toward the north. They hadthereby been compelled to give up any idea of trying to join Bowie'sparty.

  Ever since then, believing that his son and his friends had been "wipedout," the revengeful chief had been hanging upon the movements of GreatBear's band wherever they went or came. He was now informed somewhatmore fully of what the adventurers had been doing, but it was no timefor too much talk.

  "Forward now," exclaimed Bowie, at last. "Our next business is to getthe cash and push on to the Alamo. We're pretty nigh out of powderourselves. We couldn't stand a long fight."

  On they went, therefore, cautiously enough, but when they reached theopen it seemed entirely deserted. They halted in the bushes whileCastro and Red Wolf made circuits to the right and left.

  "Men," said Bowie, with emphasis, while they waited, "we'll go in andget it. We must take almost any risk to carry it off. But don't youforget, if I go down, that this cash belongs to Texas. 'Tisn't yoursnor mine, except each man's fair allowance for taking it in. None ofyou fellows found it, in the first place."

  "All right, colonel," responded Joe. "Hurrah for Texas. I don't wantany dollar that isn't mine."

  "Don't hurrah quite yet," said Bowie. "We don't know how near we maybe to a hundred scalping-knives. Hullo! Here they come."

  It was the two Lipans and not the Comanches that he referred to.

  "Big Knife walk along," said Castro, as he came nearer. "No Comanche."

  "I'd like to give 'em a hit," growled Bowie, "but this isn't the timefor it. Come on, boys. We mustn't waste a minute."

  Even now he seemed perfectly cool, but none of the other Texans failedto show how strongly the "hidden treasure" fever had taken hold ofthem. It grew manifestly hotter after they had ridden to the ruined_adobe_ house, dismounted, and followed their leader in. It was almostimpossible to believe that he was about to show them anything likeactual gold and silver.

  "You don't mean to say," said Joe, "that such a feller as old Tetzcatlleft anything behind him up here?"

  "No, he didn't," replied Bowie. "This isn't any Montezuma money. Mynotion is that it's old Spanish funds. If so, all the more does it ofright belong now to the State of Texas."

  "Of course it does!" said Cheyne, an
d the others heartily echoed him.

  "Out it comes, then!" shouted the colonel, with the first externalflash of the excitement which had all the while been smouldering withinhim. "You'll see what it is now. You didn't more'n half believe me,did you? Look at that!"

  Over rolled the _adobe_ fragments which concealed the cash, and outcame bag after bag, cast down with a chink to be at once caught up byeager hands and opened. It was a breathless kind of work to make thosebags tell what was in them.

  "It's a pity so much of it's only silver," remarked Jim, regretfully;"but silver's better'n nothin'."

  "Every feller wants more than he's got," said Joe, "but you'd kinderought to be satisfied this time."

  Red Wolf and his father had looked on in silence, but now the chiefbeckoned to his son and walked out.

  "Ugh!" he said. "Red Wolf tell story. Talk Mexico. Long trail? Heapfight?"

  All that remained to be told of the trip with Tetzcatl came outrapidly, until the mountain pass was reached and the doings in thecavern.

  "Ugh!" sharply exclaimed Castro. "Shut mouth! Montezuma bad medicine!Texan all die. Big Knife go under. Red Wolf? No! Red Wolf Indian.No hurt him. Lose hair if he talk."

  He said more, but his entire meaning seemed to be that it was awell-understood doctrine that any white adventurer learning the secretsof the Aztec gods was a doomed man. They would surely follow him upand kill him. It was not so bad for a full-blooded Indian, but even aLipan would do well to forget anything he had heard or seen thatbelonged to the bloody mysteries of the evil "manitous" of the oldrace. It was evidently a deeply rooted superstition, and Red Wolf wasquite ready to accept it fully. They returned to the ruin in time tohear Bowie remark,--

  "Two hundred thousand, pretty nigh, dollars and doubloons. Now, boys,a thousand apiece for taking it in. All the rest goes to fight SantaAnna."

  "That's the talk!" said the rangers, and the horses were led up toreceive their loads.

  It was not very easy to pack the ponderous stuff, even at the sacrificeof all the blankets on hand. After it was done, moreover, another factwas evident.

  "Boys," said Joe, "it's a walk for us all the way to the Alamo."

  "That 'll just suit the critters," replied the colonel. "It's allthe're fit for. But we mustn't fail to get there. I kind o' feel asif Texas was getting safer."

  They were themselves by no means safe and it was time to go forward.The horses had picked a little grass. They had been watered, and sohad the feverish, anxious rangers, but rest for either was not to bethought of.

  Slowly, cautiously, the devious avenues of the seemingly endlessthickets were traversed, and at last the little cavalcade, with itsprecious freight, emerged among the scattered trees on the border ofthe prairie.

  "'Tisn't time for us to whistle yet," said Bowie, "even if we're out o'the woods. Hullo! Men! There they come! Forward! Double lines.Horses outside."

  "Whoop! Whoop!" came fiercely from Castro and his son.

  "I reckon we've been watched for somehow," growled Jim. "We'll show'em a good fight for the pewter, but don't I wish thar was more of us!"

  It seemed as if the loads of dollars added to the desperate courage ofthe men, and they made ready for the coming fight as if more than theirown lives were depending upon it.

  The horses were ranged in parallel lines, and the riflemen walked on inthe space between. It was a kind of travelling breastwork, and it musthave had a dangerous look to an outsider. A number of wild horsemen,therefore, contented themselves, for the present, with whooping loudlyand riding around at safe distances. There were a great many of them,but Castro declared that the entire force under Great Bear had not madeits appearance.

  "It looks bad for our side," said Bowie. "It's a long time since anyComanche war-parties have ventured in as far as they have this season.Santa Anna was quite enough for us to handle without the redskins."

  He hardly knew, at that moment, how dark a cloud seemed to be hangingover Texas in those closing days of the winter of 1835-1836. Allthings had been going wrong. There were quarrels among leaders, andeven Houston had lost, apparently, a great deal of his popularity. AsCrockett expressed it,--

  "The cusses expect the old man to do some things that can't be did."

  There were a great many things that he could not do. Nevertheless, heworked unceasingly. He made visits of inspection here and there. Hemade speeches, printed patriotic appeals in the newspapers, and arguedwith timid or disaffected settlers.

  It all seemed to be of little use. The Indians were busy on theborders. Reports of the feeling in the Congress of the United Stateswere discouraging. All the while, moreover, every arrival from southof the Rio Grande told of the extensive preparations which the Mexicanpresident was making for an invasion. He was said to have gathered aforce that would prove overwhelming, and he had declared death to allrebels.

  "If we don't look out," said Crockett to Travis that afternoon, as theystood together in the open gate-way of the Alamo, "the Greasers 'llcatch us all in bed. But don't I wish I knew what had become of Bowieand his men?"

  "They won't fetch back any gold," replied Travis; "but I'd like to seethem if they rode in as bare as redskins."

  "Colonel," exclaimed Crockett, "give me a dozen men and let me take ascout over the south prairie. I might have some kind o' luck. Mightknock over a Comanche."

  "Let you have 'em?" said Travis, with sudden energy. "Take 'em! I'llcome right along with you. I'm dog tired of loafing in this coop. Getyour men."

  The rangers of the garrison were as weary of inaction as was theircommander, and double the number called for almost insisted uponmounting for the proposed scout.

  "The fort 'll keep till we git back," remarked Crockett; "but if Idon't git out of it and shoot something I shall spile."

  There were very good military reasons for precisely such an errand ofinquiry. The vicinity of prowling savages was pretty well known, andit was desirable to learn as much more as possible.

  The party from the fort rode out, therefore, and they were well upontheir way, but they were not near enough to hear the whoops of GreatBear's warriors nor the cracking of the first rifles which replied.

  There had been a steady onward march of Bowie's men, without any otherchange in the situation than an increase in the number of their enemies.

  "Boys," the colonel said, "we've gained about a mile and a half, butthey're closing in on us a little. Let 'em have a pill first chanceyou get. Halt!"

  There they stood, their rifles levelled across the saddles. It washardly worth while to waste their small stock of powder upon swiftlycareering horsemen, although now these were frequently within range.

  "I'll take that drove," exclaimed Jim, as several of the whooperswheeled into a closely gathered group.

  "Got him!" he shouted, as his rifle cracked.

  "One more," added Bowie. "Hold your fire, men. It won't do to havetoo many guns empty at one time."

  The backs of two mustangs were empty, however, and the yells whichfollowed were those of angry braves who had been stung to rashnessrather than intimidated. Of course, they all wheeled away at first,taking their dead comrades with them.

  The Texans again moved steadily forward, but hardly more than a quarterof a mile had been gained before Bowie shouted,--

  "Here they are, men! The whole band has got in on us this time.They're gathering for a rush. Ready! Die game!"

  A swarm,--a cloud,--an overwhelming torrent of the fierce cavalry ofthe plains, was forming in loose but effective array to sweep in upontheir victims. What could six rifles and two bows do against such astorm as was now about to burst?

  "Die like men!" shouted Bowie. "Kill every redskin you can draw a beadon!"

  Crack, crack, went rifle after rifle, and not a shot was thrown away;but the Comanches were whooping forward upon their charge and all wouldsoon be over.

  "Hullo! What's that?" shouted the colonel.

  "Whoop!" yelled C
astro. "Rifle!"

  "Ugh!" said Red Wolf. "Heap Texan! Comanche lose hair!"

  Sharp, rapid, utterly unexpected, was the rattle of rifle-shots fromaway beyond the cloud of pony riders. Down went horse and man in quicksuccession.

  "Travis and the rangers!" yelled Jim Cheyne.

  "The boys have come! Thank God!" gasped Bowie. "Five minutes more andHouston wouldn't have had a dollar of this stuff."

  Not even then was he wasting a thought upon his own life or upon thelives of those who were with him.

  It was a terrific surprise to the red riders. They were smitten as bylightning. They could have no idea of the numbers of their newassailants, and they were in wholesome dread of the marksmanship of theTexans. Well they might be!

  Wheeling into a line at the order of their commander, the rangers weredeliberately picking off warrior after warrior until their rifles wereempty.

  "Forward! Charge!" shouted Travis.

  "Come on, fellers!" yelled Crockett. "It's Bowie and the boys! Don'tyou miss a shot."

  They were not missing so long as any human target was within pistolrange, but the targets were getting away. This was not at all whatthey had counted on. They fought for a moment, of course, for theywere warriors, and their flights of arrows were not sent in vain.

  Right through them rode the rangers, leaving three of their number onthe grass, while several more carried with them well-aimed arrows.

  "Hot work," laughed Travis, "but here we are! Bowie, old fellow!Hurrah!"

  Away wheeled the stricken Comanches, for the rangers were reloading.The savage rush was over and the next business was to get out of riflerange.

  It was a curious spectacle. There stood Crockett, the rough old bearhunter, the sarcastic humorist, the lank, lantern-jawed frontiersman,hugging Colonel Bowie. It almost seemed as if he were crying.

  "Hurrah!" he shouted. "I kind o' knowed they hadn't wiped him out."

  "Crockett, old boy!" said Travis. "Give him a chance to speak. Youare choking him."

  "Jest what I want to do," said Davy. "Now, Bowie, whar have you been?"

  "Let go, Crockett," said Bowie, "and I'll tell you. But some of themen are hurt----"

  "The boys are 'tending to 'em," replied Travis. "How about Tetzcatl?"

  "Not a word of him now!" burst from Bowie, vehemently. "Travis! I'vefound cash enough to pay for all the ammunition we need to whip Mexico.I'll tell you as we go along. Where's Sam Houston?"

  "He's to be at the fort to-day," said Crockett. "But whar on earth didyou pick up any dollars?"

  The first answer was Bowie's finger on his lips. Then they threemounted and rode on together.

  As for the rest of the rangers, they were indeed caring for thewounded, and even for the dead, but the story of the cash found in theruined _adobe_ house was travelling fast from man to man.

  That was followed, of course, by an account of the raid into Mexicowith Tetzcatl, but that part of the story was defective. As it wasrelated it did not contain any intimation of the mountain pass, thecavern, or the treasure of the Montezumas. It did not, and yet oneranger after another said to the man next him, in varied forms ofspeech,--

  "Tell you what, those fellows that went with Bowie are keeping backsomething. They've learned more than they're willin' to tell. We mustget it out of 'em."

  As for Red Wolf, he and his father had been lost sight of for a fewminutes, but in the last part of that close, terrible fight they hadbeen plying their bows incessantly, and now they were out on theprairie. They were Indians, Lipans, an old warrior and a young brave,and they were following the custom of their race, for they were takingtrophies.