The Second Western Megapack

by Various Writers

  “When we are all ready to depart, which way do you intend to go Mr. Roylston?” asked Ned.

  “I wish to go around the settlements and then to New Orleans,” replied Roylston. “That city is my headquarters, but I also have establishments elsewhere, even as far north as New York. Are you sure, Ned, that you cannot go with me and bring your friend Allen, too? I could make men of you both in a vast commercial world. There have been great opportunities, and greater are coming. The development of this mighty southwest will call for large and bold schemes of organization. It is not money alone that I offer, but the risk, the hopes and rewards of a great game, in fact, the opening of a new world to civilization, for such this southwest is. It appeals to some deeper feeling than that which can be aroused by the mere making of money.”

  Ned, deeply interested, watched him intently as he spoke. He saw Roylston show emotion for the first time, and the mind of the boy responded to that of the man. He could understand this dream. The image of a great Texan republic was already in the minds of men. It possessed that of Ned. He did not believe that the Texans and Mexicans could ever get along together, and he was quite sure that Texas could never return to its original position as part of a Mexican state.

  “You can do much for Texas there with me in New Orleans,” said Roylston, as if he were making a final appeal to one whom he looked upon almost as a son. “Perhaps you could do more than you can here in Texas.”

  Ned shook his head a little sadly. He did not like to disappoint this man, but he could not leave the field. Young Allen also said that he would remain.

  “Be it so,” said Roylston. “It is young blood. Never was there a truer saying than ‘Young men for war, old men for counsel.’ But the time may come when you will need me. When it does come send the word.”

  Ned judged from Roylston’s manner that dark days were ahead, but the merchant did not mention the subject again. At the end of a week, when they were amply supplied with everything except horses, the Panther decided to take Ned and Obed and go on a scout toward the Rio Grande. They started early in the morning and the horses, which had obtained plenty of grass, were full of life and vigor.

  They soon left the narrow belt of forest far behind them, maintaining an almost direct course toward the southeast. The point on the river that they intended to reach was seventy or eighty miles away, and they did not expect to cover the distance in less than two days.

  They rode all that day and did not see a trace of a human being, but they did see both buffalo and antelope in the distance.

  “It shows what the war has done,” said the Panther. “I rode over these same prairies about a year ago an’ game was scarce, but there were some men. Now the men are all gone an’ the game has come back. Cur’us how quick buffalo an’ deer an’ antelope learn about these things.”

  They slept the night through on the open prairie, keeping watch by turns. The weather was cold, but they had their good blankets with them and they took no discomfort. They rode forward again early in the morning, and about noon struck an old but broad trail. It was evident that many men and many wagons had passed here. There were deep ruts in the earth, cut by wheels, and the traces of footsteps showed over a belt a quarter of a mile wide.

  “Well, Ned, I s’pose you can make a purty good guess what this means?” said the Panther.

  “This was made weeks and weeks ago,” replied Ned confidently, “and the men who made it were Mexicans. They were soldiers, the army of Cos, that we took at San Antonio, and which we allowed to retire on parole into Mexico.”

  “There’s no doubt you’re right,” said the Panther. “There’s no other force in this part of the world big enough to make such a wide an’ lastin’ trail. An’ I think it’s our business to follow these tracks. What do you say, Obed?”

  “It’s just the one thing in the world that we’re here to do,” said the Maine man. “Broad is the path and straight is the way that leads before us, and we follow on.”

  “Do we follow them down into Mexico?” said Ned.

  “I don’t think it likely that we’ll have to do it,” replied the Panther, glancing at Obed.

  Ned caught the look and he understood.

  “Do you mean,” he asked, “that Cos, after taking his parole and pledging his word that he and his troops would not fight against us, would stop at the Rio Grande?”

  “I mean that an’ nothin’ else,” replied the Panther. “I ain’t talkin’ ag’in Mexicans in general. I’ve knowed some good men among them, but I wouldn’t take the word of any of that crowd of generals, Santa Anna, Cos, Sesma, Urrea, Gaona, Castrillon, the Italian Filisola, or any of them.”

  “There’s one I’d trust,” said Ned, with grateful memory, “and that’s Almonte.”

  “I’ve heard that he’s of different stuff,” said the Panther, “but it’s best to keep out of their hands.”

  They were now riding swiftly almost due southward, having changed their course to follow the trail, and they kept a sharp watch ahead for Mexican scouts or skirmishers. But the bare country in its winter brown was lone and desolate. The trail led straight ahead, and it would have been obvious now to the most inexperienced eye that an army had passed that way. They saw remains of camp fires, now and then the skeleton of a horse or mule picked clean by buzzards, fragments of worn-out clothing that had been thrown aside, and once a broken-down wagon. Two or three times they saw little mounds of earth with rude wooden crosses stuck upon them, to mark where some of the wounded had died and had been buried.

  They came at last to a bit of woodland growing about a spring that seemed to gush straight up from the earth. It was really an open grove with no underbrush, a splendid place for a camp. It was evident that Cos’s force had put it to full use, as the earth nearly everywhere had been trodden by hundreds of feet, and the charred pieces of wood were innumerable. The Panther made a long and critical examination of everything.

  “I’m thinkin’,” he said, “that Cos stayed here three or four days. All the signs p’int that way. He was bound by the terms we gave him at San Antonio to go an’ not fight ag’in, but he’s shorely takin’ his time about it. Look at these bones, will you? Now, Ned, you promisin’ scout an’ skirmisher, tell me what they are.”

  “Buffalo bones,” replied Ned promptly.

  “Right you are,” replied the Panther, “an’ when Cos left San Antonio he wasn’t taking any buffaloes along with him to kill fur meat. They staid here so long that the hunters had time to go out an’ shoot game.”

  “A long lane’s the thief of time,” said Obed, “and having a big march before him, Cos has concluded to walk instead of run.”

  “’Cause he was expectin’ somethin’ that would stop him,” said the Panther angrily. “I hate liars an’ traitors. Well, we’ll soon see.”

  Their curiosity became so great that they rode at a swift trot on the great south trail, and not ten miles further they came upon the unmistakable evidences of another big camp that had lasted long.

  “Slower an’ slower,” muttered the Panther. “They must have met a messenger. Wa’al, it’s fur us to go slow now, too.”

  But he said aloud:

  “Boys, it ain’t more’n twenty miles now to the Rio Grande, an’ we can hit it by dark. But I’m thinkin’ that we’d better be mighty keerful now as we go on.”

  “I suppose it’s because Mexican scouts and skirmishers may be watching,” said Ned.

  “Yes, an’ ’specially that fellow Urrea. His uncle bein’ one of Santa Anna’s leadin’ gen’rals, he’s likely to have freer rein, an’, as we know, he’s clever an’ active. I’d hate to fall into his hands again.”

  They rode more slowly, and three pairs of eyes continually searched the plain for an enemy. Ned’s sight was uncommonly acute, and Obed and the Panther frequently appealed to him as a last resort. It flattered his pride and he strove to justify it.

  Their pace became slower and slower, and presently the early twilight of winter was coming. A c
old wind moaned, but the desolate plain was broken here and there by clumps of trees. At the suggestion of the Pantherthey rode to one of these and halted under cover of the timber.

  “The river can’t be much more than a mile ahead,” said the Panther, “an’ we might run into the Mexicans any minute. We’re sheltered here, an’ we’d better wait a while. Then I think we can do more stalkin’.”

  Obed and Ned were not at all averse, and dismounting they stretched themselves, easing their muscles. Old Jack hunted grass and, finding none, rubbed Ned’s elbow with his nose suggestively.

  “Never mind, old boy,” said Ned, patting the glossy muzzle of his faithful comrade. “This is no time for feasting and banqueting. We are hunting Mexicans, you and I, and after that business is over we may consider our pleasures.”

  They remained several hours among the trees. They saw the last red glow that the sun leaves in the west die away. They saw the full darkness descend over the earth, and then the stars come trooping out. After that they saw a scarlet flush under the horizon which was not a part of the night and its progress. The Panther noted it, and his great face darkened. He turned to Ned.

  “You see it, don’t you? Now tell me what it is.”

  “That light, I should say, comes from the fires of an army. And it can be no other army than that of Cos.”

  “Right again, ain’t he, Obed?”

  “He surely is. Cos and his men are there. He who breaks his faith when he steals away will have to fight another day. How far off would you say that light is, Panther?”

  “’Bout two miles, an’ in an hour or so we’ll ride fur it. The night will darken up more then, an’ it will give us a better chance for lookin’ an listenin’. I’ll be mightily fooled if we don’t find out a lot that’s worth knowin’.”

  True to Obed’s prediction, the night deepened somewhat within the hour. Many of the stars were hidden by floating wisps of cloud, and objects could not be seen far on the dusky surface of the plain. But the increased darkness only made the scarlet glow in the south deepen. It seemed, too, to spread far to right and left.

  “That’s a big force,” said the Panther. “It’ll take a lot of fires to make a blaze like that.”

  “I’m agreeing with you,” said Obed. “I’m thinking that those are the camp fires of more men than Cos took from San Antonio with him.”

  “Which would mean,” said Ned, “that another Mexican army had come north to join him.”

  “Anyhow, we’ll soon see,” said the Panther.

  They mounted their horses and rode cautiously toward the light.

  CHAPTER V

  SANTA ANNA’S ADVANCE

  The three rode abreast, Ned in the center. The boy was on terms of perfect equality with Obed and the Panther. They treated him as a man among men, and respected his character, rather grave for one so young, and always keen to learn.

  The land rolled away in swells as usual throughout a 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 a mandolin or guitar came to them.

  “We was right in our guess,” said the Panther. “It’s a lot bigger force than the one that Cos led away from San Antonio, an’ it will take a heap of rippin’ an’ t’arin’ an’ roarin’ to turn it back. Our people don’t know how much is comin’ ag’in ’em.”

  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 in assent.

  “We must scout about the camp,” he said. “Mebbe we’d better divide an’ then we can all gather before day-break at the clump of 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 an arroyo five or six feet wide and 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 had escaped up the bed of the creek when they were besieged by Urrea, and if one could leave by an arroyo, one could also approach by it. He rode to the group of trees that had been designated as the 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 to him 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 whinnied 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 arroyo, which he entered without hesitation.

  Ned was well armed, as every one then had full need to be. He wore a sombrero in the Mexican fashion, and flung over his shoulders was a great serape 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 as a Mexican, particularly in the night and among so many.

  The arroyo 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 a 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? Here was a great Mexican army, and there was certainly no foe amounting to more than a few men within 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 a true and detailed tale of their numbers the Texans must believe and prepare. He drew the brim of his sombrero down a little further, and pulled his serape up to meet it. The habit the Mexicans had of wrapping their serapes so high that they were covered to the nose was fortunate at this time. He 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 n
oticed among them a heavy-set, dark man. It was Cos, Cos the breaker of oaths. With him was another officer whose uniform indicated the general. Ned learned later that this was Sesma, who had been dispatched with a brigade by Santa Anna to meet Cos 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 heads 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.

  “A hard march,” he said, knowing that these men about him had come a vast distance.

  “Aye, it was,” said the man next on his right. “Santiago, but was it not, José?”

  José, the second man on the right, replied in the affirmative and with emphasis:

  “You speak the great truth, Carlos. Such another march I never wish to make. Think of the hundreds and hundreds of miles we have tramped from our warm lands far in the south across mountains, across bare and windy deserts, with the ice and the 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 will of the great Santa Anna, surely the mightiest man of our age,” said Carlos. “They say that his wrath was terrible when he heard how 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.”