The Texan Scouts by Joseph A. Altsheler

J >> Joseph A. Altsheler >> The Texan Scouts

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

It was a deep, hearty, unctuous laugh that came from the very depths of
the man's chest. It was a laugh with no trace of merely superficial joy.
He who uttered it laughed because his heart and soul were in it. It was
a laugh of mirth, relief and triumph, all carried to the highest degree.
It was a long laugh, rising and falling, but when it ceased and the
Panther had drawn a deep breath he opened his mouth again and spoke the
words that were in his mind.

"I shorely did some rippin' an' roarin' then," he said. "It was the best
chance I ever had, an' I guess I used it. How things did work for us!
Them sleepy sentinels, an' then the stampede of the animals, carryin'
Urrea an' the rest right away with it."

"Fortune certainly worked for us," said Ned.

"And we can find no words in which to describe to you our gratitude,"
said the crippled man on the horse. "We were informed very clearly by
Urrea that we were rebels and, under the decree of Santa Anna, would be
executed. Even our young friend here, this boy, William Allen, would not
have been spared."

"We ain't all the way out of the woods yet," said the Panther, not
wishing to have their hopes rise too high and then fall. "Of course
Urrea an' his men have some arms left. They wouldn't stack 'em all under
the shed, an' they can get more from other Mexicans in these parts. When
they learn from their trailers how few we are they'll follow."

The rescued were silent, save one, evidently a veteran frontiersman, who
said:

"Let 'em come. I was took by surprise, not thinkin' any Mexicans was
north of the Rio Grande. But now that I've got a rifle on one shoulder
an' a musket on the other I think I could thrash an acre-lot full of
'em."

"That's the talk," said Obed White. "We'll say to 'em: 'Come one, come
all, this rock from its firm base may fly, but we're the boys who'll
never say die.'"

They relapsed once more into silence. The rain had lightened a little,
but the night was as dark as ever. The boy whom the man had called
William Allen drew up by the side of Ned. They were of about the same
height, and each was as tall and strong as a man.

"Have you any friends here with you?" asked Ned.

"All of them are my friends, but I made them in captivity. I came to
Texas to find my fortune, and I found this."

The boy laughed, half in pity of himself, and half with genuine humor.

"But I ought not to complain," he added, "when we've been saved in the
most wonderful way. How did you ever happen to do it?"

"We've been following you all the way from the other side of the Rio
Grande, waiting a good chance. It came to-night with the darkness, the
rain, and the carelessness of the Mexicans. I heard the man call you
William Allen. My name is Fulton, Edward Fulton, Ned to my friends."

"And mine's Will to my friends."

"And you and I are going to be friends, that's sure."

"Nothing can be surer."

The hands of the two boys met in a strong grasp, signifying a friendship
that was destined to endure.

The Panther and Obed now began to seek a place for a camp. They knew
that too much haste would mean a breakdown, and they meant that the
people whom they had rescued should have a rest. But it took a long time
to find the trees which would furnish wood and partial shelter. It was
Obed who made the happy discovery some time after midnight. Turning to
their left, they entered a grove of dwarf oaks, covering a half acre or
so, and with much labor and striving built a fire. They made it a big
fire, too, and fed it until the flames roared and danced. Ned noticed
that all the rescued prisoners crouched close to it, as if it were a
giver of strength and courage as well as warmth, and now the light
revealed their faces. He looked first at the crippled man, and the
surprise that he had felt at his first glimpse of him increased.

The stranger was of a type uncommon on the border. His large features
showed cultivation and the signs of habitual and deep thought. His thick
white hair surmounted a broad brow. His clothing, although torn by
thorns and briars, was of fine quality. Ned knew instinctively that it
was a powerful face, one that seldom showed the emotions behind it. The
rest, except the boy, were of the border, lean, sun-browned men,
dressed in tanned deerskin.

The Panther and Obed also gazed at the crippled man with great
curiosity. They knew the difference, and they were surprised to find
such a man in such a situation. He did not seem to notice them at first,
but from his seat on a log leaned over the fire warming his hands, which
Ned saw were large, white and smooth. His legs lay loosely against the
log, as if he were suffering from a species of paralysis. The others,
soaked by the rain, which, however, now ceased, were also hovering over
the fire which was giving new life to the blood in their veins. The man
with the white hands turned presently and, speaking to Ned, Obed and the
Panther, said:

"My name is Roylston, John Roylston."

Ned started.

"I see that you have heard of it," continued the stranger, but without
vanity. "Yes, I am the merchant of New Orleans. I have lands and other
property in this region for which I have paid fairly. I hold the deeds
and they are also guaranteed to me by Santa Anna and the Mexican
Congress. I was seized by this guerilla leader, Urrea. He knew who I
was, and he sought to extract from me an order for a large sum of money
lying in a European bank in the City of Mexico. There are various ways
of procuring such orders, and he tried one of the most primitive
methods. That is why I cannot walk without help. No, I will not tell
what was done. It is not pleasant to hear. Let it pass. I shall walk
again as well as ever in a month."

"Did he get the order?" asked Obed curiously.

Roylston laughed deep in his throat.

"He did not," he said. "It was not because I valued it so much, but my
pride would not permit me to give way to such crude methods. I must
say, however, that you three came just in time, and you have done a most
marvelous piece of work."

Ned shuddered and walked a little space out on the plain to steady his
nerves. He had never deceived himself about the dangers that the Texans
were facing, but it seemed that they would have to fight every kind of
ferocity. When he returned, Obed and the Panther were building the fire
higher.

"We must get everybody good and dry," said the Panther. "Pursuit will
come, but not to-night, an' we needn't worry about the blaze. We've food
enough for all of you for a day, but we haven't the horses, an' for that
I'm sorry. If we had them we could git away without a doubt to the Texan
army."

"But not having them," said Obed, "we'll even do the best we can, if the
Mexicans, having run away, come back to fight another day."

"So we will," said a stalwart Texan named Fields. "That Urrea don't get
me again, and if I ain't mistook your friend here is Mr. Palmer, better
known in our parts as the Ring Tailed Panther, ain't he?"

Ned saw the Panther's huge form swell. He still wore the great serape,
which shone in the firelight with a deep blood-red tinge.

"I am the Ring Tailed Panther," he said proudly.

"Then lemme shake your hand. You an' your pards have done a job to-night
that ain't had its like often, and me bein' one of them that's profited
by it makes it look all the bigger to me."

The Panther graciously extended an enormous palm, and the great palm of
Fields met it in a giant clasp. A smile lighted up the somber face of
Mr. Roylston as he looked at them.

"Often we find powerful friends when we least expect them," he said.

"As you are the worst hurt of the lot," said the Panther, "we're going
to make you a bed right here by the fire. No, it ain't any use sayin'
you won't lay down on it. If you won't we'll jest have to put you down."

They spread a blanket, upon which the exhausted merchant lay, and they
covered him with a serape. Soon he fell asleep, and then Fields said to
Ned and his comrades:

"You fellows have done all the work, an' you've piled up such a mountain
of debt against us that we can never wipe it out. Now you go to sleep
and four of us will watch. And, knowin' what would happen to us if we
were caught, we'll watch well. But nothing is to be expected to-night."

"Suits us," said Obed. "Some must watch while others sleep, so runs the
world away. Bet you a dollar, Ned, that I'm off to Slumberland before
you are."

"I don't take the bet," said Ned, "but I'll run you an even race."

In exactly five minutes the two, rolled in their own blankets, slept
soundly. All the others soon followed, except four, who, unlike the
Mexicans, kept a watch that missed nothing.

CHAPTER III

THE FIGHT WITH URREA

Morning came. Up rose the sun, pouring a brilliant light over the
desolate plains. Beads of water from the rain the night before sparkled
a little while and then dried up. But the day was cold, nevertheless,
and a sharp wind now began to search for the weakest point of every one.
Ned, Obed and the Panther were up betimes, but some of the rescued still
slept.

Ned, at the suggestion of the Panther, mounted one of the horses and
rode out on the plain a half mile to the south. Those keen eyes of his
were becoming all the keener from life upon the vast rolling plains. But
no matter how he searched the horizon he saw only a lonesome cactus or
two shivering in the wind. When he returned with his report the
redoubtable Panther said:

"Then we'll just take our time. The pursuit's goin' to come, but since
it ain't in sight we'll brace up these new friends of ours with hot
coffee an' vittles. I guess we've got coffee enough left for all."

They lighted the fire anew and soon pleasant odors arose. The rescued
prisoners ate and drank hungrily, and Mr. Roylston was able to limp a
little. Now that Ned saw him in the full daylight he understood more
clearly than ever that this was indeed a most uncommon man. The brow and
eyes belonged to one who thought, planned and organized. He spoke little
and made no complaint, but when he looked at Ned he said:

"You are young, my boy, to live among such dangers. Why do you not go
north into the states where life is safe?"

"There are others as young as I, or younger, who have fought or will
fight for Texas," said Ned. "I belong here and I've got powerful
friends. Two of them have saved my life more than once and are likely to
do so again."

He nodded toward Obed and the Panther, who were too far away to hear.
Roylston smiled. The two men were in singular contrast, but each was
striking in his way. Obed, of great height and very thin, but
exceedingly strong, was like a steel lath. The Panther, huge in every
aspect, reminded one, in his size and strength, of a buffalo bull.

"They are uncommon men, no doubt," said Roylston. "And you expect to
remain with them?"

"I'd never leave them while this war lasts! Not under any
circumstances!"

Ned spoke with great energy, and again Roylston smiled, but he said no
more.

"It's time to start," said the Panther.

Roylston again mounted one of the horses. Ned saw that it hurt his pride
to have to ride, but he saw also that he would not complain when
complaints availed nothing. He felt an increasing interest in a man who
seemed to have perfect command over himself.

The boy, Will Allen, was fresh and strong again. His youthful frame had
recovered completely from all hardships, and now that he was free,
armed, and in the company of true friends his face glowed with pleasure
and enthusiasm. He was tall and strong, and now he carried a good rifle
with a pistol also in his belt. He and Ned walked side by side, and each
rejoiced in the companionship of one of his own age.

"How long have you been with them?" asked Will, looking at Obed and the
Panther.

"I was first with Obed away down in Mexico. We were prisoners together
in the submarine dungeon of San Juan de Ulua. I'd never have escaped
without him. And I'd never have escaped a lot more things without him,
either. Then we met the Panther. He's the greatest frontiersman in all
the southwest, and we three somehow have become hooked together."

Will looked at Ned a little enviously.

"What comrades you three must be!" he said. "I have nobody."

"Are you going to fight for Texas?"

"I count on doing so."

"Then why don't you join us, and we three will turn into four?"

Will looked at Ned, and his eyes glistened.

"Do you mean that?" he asked.

"Do I mean it? I think I do. Ho, there, Panther! You and Obed, just a
minute or two!"

The two turned back. Ned and Will were walking at the rear of the little
company.

"I've asked Will to be one of us," said Ned, "to join our band and to
share our fortunes, good or bad."

"Can he make all the signs, an' has he rid the goat?" asked the Panther
solemnly.

"Does he hereby swear never to tell any secret of ours to Mexican or
Indian?" asked Obed. "Does he swear to obey all our laws and by-laws
wherever he may be, and whenever he is put to the test?"

"He swears to everything," replied Ned, "and I know that he is the kind
to make a trusty comrade to the death."

"Then you are declared this minute a member of our company in good
standin'," said the Panther to Will, "an' with this grip I give you
welcome."

He crushed the boy's hand in a mighty grasp that made him wince, and
Obed followed with one that was almost equally severe. But the boy did
not mind the physical pain. Instead, his soul was uplifted. He was now
the chosen comrade of these three paladins, and he was no longer alone
in the world. But he merely said:

"I'll try to show myself worthy."

They were compelled to stop at noon for rather a long rest, as walking
was tiresome. Fields, who was a good scout, went back and looked for
pursuers, but announced that he saw none, and, after an hour, they
started again.

"I'm thinkin'," said the Panther, "that Urrea has already organized the
pursuit. Mebbe he has pow'ful glasses an' kin see us when we can't see
him. He may mean to attack to-night. It's a lucky thing for us that we
can find timber now an' then."

"It's likely that you're right about to-night," said Obed, "but there's
no night so dark that it doesn't have its silver lining. I guess
everybody in this little crowd is a good shot, unless maybe it's Mr.
Roylston, and as we have about three guns apiece we can make it mighty
hot for any force that Urrea may bring against us."

They began now to search for timber, looking especially for some clump
of trees that also inclosed water. They did not anticipate any great
difficulty in regard to the water, as the winter season and the heavy
rains had filled the dry creek beds, and had sent torrents down the
arroyos. Before dark they found a stream about a foot deep running over
sand between banks seven or eight feet high toward the Rio Grande. A
mile further on a small grove of myrtle oaks and pecans grew on its left
bank, and there they made their camp.

Feeling that they must rely upon their valor and watchfulness, and not
upon secrecy, they built a fire, and ate a good supper. Then they put
out the fire and half of them remained on guard, the other half going to
sleep, except Roylston, who sat with his back to a tree, his injured
legs resting upon a bed of leaves which the boys had raked up for him.
He had been riding Old Jack and the horse had seemed to take to him, but
after the stop Ned himself had looked after his mount.

The boy allowed Old Jack to graze a while, and then he tethered him in
the thickest of the woods just behind the sleeping man. He wished the
horse to be as safe as possible in case bullets should be flying, and he
could find no better place for him. But before going he stroked his nose
and whispered in his ear.

"Good Old Jack! Brave fellow!" he said. "We are going to have troublous
times, you and I, along with the others, but I think we are going to
ride through them safely."

The horse whinnied ever so softly, and nuzzled Ned's arm. The
understanding between them was complete. Then Ned left him, intending to
take a position by the bank of the creek as he was on the early watch.
On the way he passed Roylston, who regarded him attentively.

"I judge that your leader, Mr. Palmer, whom you generally call the
Panther, is expecting an attack," said the merchant.

"He's the kind of man who tries to provide for everything," replied Ned.

"Of course, then," said Roylston, "he provides for the creek bed. The
Mexican skirmishers can come up it and yet be protected by its banks."

"That is so," said the Panther, who had approached as he was speaking.
"It's the one place that we've got to watch most, an' Ned an' me are
goin' to sit there on the banks, always lookin'. I see that you've got
the eye of a general, Mr. Roylston."

The merchant smiled.

"I'm afraid I don't count for much in battle," he said, "and least of
all hampered as I am now. But if the worst comes to the worst I can sit
here with my back to this tree and shoot. If you will kindly give me a
rifle and ammunition I shall be ready for the emergency."

"But it is your time to sleep, Mr. Roylston," said the Panther.

"I don't think I can sleep, and as I cannot I might as well be of use."

The Panther brought him the rifle, powder and bullets, and Roylston,
leaning against the tree, rifle across his knees, watched with bright
eyes. Sentinels were placed at the edge of the grove, but the Panther
and Ned, as arranged, were on the high bank overlooking the bed of the
creek. Now and then they walked back and forth, meeting at intervals,
but most of the time each kept to his own particular part of the ground.

Ned found an oak, blown down on the bank by some hurricane, and as there
was a comfortable seat on a bough with the trunk as a rest for his back
he remained there a long time. But his ease did not cause him to relax
his vigilance. He was looking toward the north, and he could see two
hundred yards or more up the creek bed to a point where it curved. The
bed itself was about thirty feet wide, although the water did not have a
width of more than ten feet.

Everything was now quite dry, as the wind had been blowing all day. But
the breeze had died with the night, and the camp was so still that Ned
could hear the faint trickle of the water over the sand. It was a fair
night, with a cold moon and cold stars looking down. The air was full
of chill, and Ned began to walk up and down again in order to keep warm.
He noticed Roylston still sitting with eyes wide open and the rifle
across his lap.

As Ned came near in his walk the merchant turned his bright eyes upon
him.

"I hear," he said, "that you have seen Santa Anna."

"More than once. Several times when I was a prisoner in Mexico, and
again when I was recaptured."

"What do you think of him?"

The gaze of the bright eyes fixed upon Ned became intense and
concentrated.

"A great man! A wickedly great man!"

Roylston turned his look away, and interlaced his fingers thoughtfully.

"A good description, I think," he said. "You have chosen your words
well. A singular compound is this Mexican, a mixture of greatness,
vanity and evil. I may talk to you more of him some day. But I tell you
now that I am particularly desirous of not being carried a prisoner to
him."

He lifted the rifle, put its stock to his shoulder, and drew a bead.

"I think I could hit at forty or fifty yards in this good moonlight," he
said.

He replaced the rifle across his knees and sighed. Ned was curious, but
he would not ask questions, and he walked back to his old position by
the bank. Here he made himself easy, and kept his eyes on the deep
trench that had been cut by the stream. The shadows were dark against
the bank, but it seemed to him that they were darker than they had been
before.

Ned's blood turned a little colder, and his scalp tingled. He was
startled but not afraid. He looked intently, and saw moving figures in
the river bed, keeping close against the bank. He could not see faces,
he could not even discern a clear outline of the figures, but he had no
doubt that these were Urrea's Mexicans. He waited only a moment longer
to assure himself that the dark moving line was fact and not fancy.
Then, aiming his rifle at the foremost shape, he fired. While the echo
of the sharp crack was yet speeding across the plain he cried:

"Up, men! up! Urrea is here!"

A volley came from the creek bed, but in an instant the Panther, Obed,
Will and Fields were by Ned's side.

"Down on your faces," cried the Panther, "an' pot 'em as they run! So
they thought to go aroun' the grove, come down from the north an'
surprise us this way! Give it to 'em, boys!"

The rifles flashed and the dark line in the bed of the creek now broke
into a huddle of flying forms. Three fell, but the rest ran, splashing
through the sand and water, until they turned the curve and were
protected from the deadly bullets. Then the Panther, calling to the
others, rushed to the other side of the grove, where a second attack,
led by Urrea in person, had been begun. Here men on horseback charged
directly at the wood, but they were met by a fire which emptied more
than one saddle.

Much of the charge was a blur to Ned, a medley of fire and smoke, of
beating hoofs and of cries. But one thing he saw clearly and never
forgot. It was the lame man with the thick white hair sitting with his
back against a tree calmly firing a rifle at the Mexicans. Roylston had
time for only two shots, but when he reloaded the second time he placed
the rifle across his knees as before and smiled.

Most Mexican troops would have been content with a single charge, but
these returned, encouraged by shouts and driven on by fierce commands.
Ned saw a figure waving a sword. He believed it to be Urrea, and he
fired, but he missed, and the next moment the horseman was lost in the
shadows.

The second charge was beaten back like the first, and several
skirmishers who tried to come anew down the bed of the creek were also
put to flight. Two Mexicans got into the thickets and tried to stampede
the horses, but the quickness of Obed and Fields defeated their aim. One
of the Mexicans fell there, but the other escaped in the darkness.

When the second charge was driven back and the horses were quieted the
Panther and Obed threshed up the woods, lest some Mexican musketeer
should lie hidden there.

Nobody slept any more that night. Ned, Will and the Panther kept a sharp
watch upon the bed of the creek, the moon and stars fortunately aiding
them. But the Mexicans did not venture again by that perilous road,
although toward morning they opened a scattering fire from the plain,
many of their bullets whistling at random among the trees and thickets.
Some of the Texans, crawling to the edge of the wood, replied, but they
seemed to have little chance for a good shot, as the Mexicans lay behind
a swell. The besiegers grew tired after a while and silence came again.

Three of the Texans had suffered slight wounds, but the Panther and
Fields bound them up skillfully. It was still light enough for these
tasks. Fields was particularly jubilant over their success, as he had a
right to be. The day before he could look forward only to his own
execution. Now he was free and victorious. Exultantly he hummed:

You've heard, I s'pose, of New Orleans,
It's famed for youth and beauty;
There are girls of every hue, it seems,
From snowy white to sooty.
Now Packenham has made his brags,
If he that day was lucky,
He'd have the girls and cotton bags
In spite of Old Kentucky.

But Jackson, he was wide awake,
And was not scared at trifles,
For well he knew Kentucky's boys,
With their death-dealing rifles.
He led them down to cypress swamp,
The ground was low and mucky;
There stood John Bull in martial pomp,
And here stood old Kentucky.

"Pretty good song, that of yours," said the Panther approvingly. "Where
did you get it?"

"From my father," replied Fields. "He's a Kentuckian, an' he fit at New
Orleans. He was always hummin' that song, an' it come back to me after
we drove off the Mexicans. Struck me that it was right timely."

Ned and Will, on their own initiative, had been drawing all the fallen
logs that they could find and move to the edge of the wood, and having
finished the task they came back to the bed of the creek. Roylston, the
rifle across his knees, was sitting with his eyes closed, but he opened
them as they approached. They were uncommonly large and bright eyes, and
they expressed pleasure.

"It gratifies me to see that neither of you is hurt," he said. "This has
been a strange night for two who are as young as you are. And it is a
strange night for me, too. I never before thought that I should be
firing at any one with intent to kill. But events are often too powerful
for us."

He closed his eyes again.

"I am going to sleep a little, if I can," he said.

But Ned and Will could not sleep. They went to Ned's old position at the
edge of the creek bed, and together watched the opening dawn. They saw
the bright sun rise over the great plains, and the dew sparkle for a
little while on the brown grass. The day was cold, but apparently it had
come with peace. They saw nothing on the plain, although they had no
doubt that the Mexicans were waiting just beyond the first swell. But
Ned and Will discerned three dark objects lying on the sand up the bed
of the creek, and they knew that they were the men who had fallen in the
first rush. Ned was glad that he could not see their faces.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23