The Texan Star: The Story of a Great Fight for Liberty, Joseph A. Altsheler [best ebook for manga .txt] 📗

filed my teeth an' nails 'till they're like the edge of a razor, an' that I'm just hungerin' to rip an' claw."

"The men of Gonzales mean to defend their cannon and themselves," called Ned across the river. "If you come to take the gun it means war. It means more, too. It means that you will lose many of your soldiers. The Texans, as you know, are both able and willing to shoot."

"This is rebellion and treason!" cried Castenada. "The great Santa Anna will come with a mighty force, and when he is through not a Texan will trouble the surface of the earth."

A roar of approval came from the men behind the Mexican captain, but Ned replied:

"Until the earth is rid of us we may make certain spots of it dangerous for you. So, I warn you to draw back. Our bullets carry easily across this river."

Captain Castenada, white with rage, retired with his troop beyond the range of the Texan rifles.

CHAPTER XV THE FIRST GUN

"Well, Ned, it's sometimes ask and ye shall not receive, isn't it?" said Obed White, looking at the retreating Mexicans.

But the Ring Tailed Panther growled between his shut teeth. Then he opened his mouth and gave utterance to his dissatisfaction.

"It's a cheat, a low Mexican trick," he said, "to come here an' promise a fight an' then go away. I'm willin' to bet my claws that them Mexicans will hang around here two or three days, without tryin' to do a thing."

"An' won't that be all the better for us?" asked Ned. "We're only eighteen and we surely need time for more."

"That's so," admitted the Ring Tailed Panther, "but when you've got all your teeth and claws sharpened for a fight you want it right then an' not next week."

The Mexicans tethered their horses and began to form camp about a half mile from the river. They went about it deliberately, spreading tents for their officers and lighting fires for cooking. The Texans could see them plainly and the Mexicans showed the carelessness and love of pleasure natural to children of the sun. Some lay down on the grass and three or four began to strum mandolins and guitars.

There was a sterner manner on the Texan side of the Guadalupe. The watch at the fords was not relaxed, but Ned went back into the little town to carry the word to the women and children. Most of the women, like the men, were dressed in deerskin and they, too, volunteered to fight if they were needed. Ned told them what Castenada had asked, and he also told them the reply which was received with grim satisfaction. The women were even more bitter than the men against the Mexicans.

Ned passed a long day by the Guadalupe, keeping his place most of the time at the ford with the Ring Tailed Panther, who was far less patient than he.

"My teeth an' claws will shorely get dull with me a-settin' here an' doin' nothin'," said Palmer. "I can roar an' I can keep on roarin' but what's the good of roarin' when you can't do any bitin' an' tearin'?"

"Patience will have its perfect fight," said Obed, giving one of his misquotations. "I've always heard that every kind of panther would lie very quiet until the chance came for him to spring."

The Ring Tailed Panther growled between his shut teeth.

The sight of the Mexican force in the afternoon became absolutely tantalizing. Although it was early autumn the days were still very hot at times and Castenada's men were certainly taking their ease. Ned could see many of them enjoying the siesta, and through a pair of glasses he saw others lolling luxuriously and smoking cigarettes. It was especially irritating to the Ring Tailed Panther, who grew very red in the face but who now only emitted growls between his shut teeth.

It was evident that the Mexicans were going to make no demonstration just yet and the night came, rather dark and cloudy. Now the anxiety in Gonzales increased since the night can be cover for anything, and, besides guarding the fords, several of the defenders were placed at intermediate points.

Ned took a station with Obed in a clump of oaks that grew to the very edge of the Guadalupe. There they sat a long time and watched the surface of the river grow darker and darker. The Mexican camp had been shut from sight long since, and no sounds now came from it. Ned appreciated fully the need of a close watch. The Mexicans might swim the river on their horses in the darkness, and gallop down on the town. So he never ceased to watch, and he also listened with ears which were rapidly acquiring the delicacy and sensitiveness peculiar to those of expert frontiersmen.

Ned was not warlike in temper. He knew, from his reading, all the waste and terrible passions of war, but he was heart and soul with the Texans. He was one of them, and to him the coming struggle was a fight for home and liberty by an oppressed people. With the ardor of youth flaming in him he was willing for that struggle to begin at once.

Night on the Guadalupe! He felt that the darkness was full of omens and presages for Texas and for him, too, a boy among its defenders. His pulses quivered, and a light moisture broke out on his face. His prescience, the gift of foresight, was at work. It was telling him that the time, in very truth, had come. Yet he could not see or hear a single thing that bore the remotest resemblance to an enemy.

The boy stepped from a clump of trees in order that he might get a better look down the river. There was a crack on the farther shore, a flash of fire, and a bullet sang past his ear. He caught a hasty glimpse of a Mexican with a smoking rifle leaping to cover, and he, too, sprang back into the shelter of the trees.

It was the first shot of the great Texan struggle for independence!

Ned felt all of its significance even then, and so did Obed.

"You saw him?" asked the Maine man.

"I did, and I felt the breath of his bullet on my face, but he gained cover too quick for me to return his fire."

"The first shot was theirs and it was at you. It seems odd, Ned, that you should have been used as a target for the opening of the war."

"I'm proud of the honor."

"So would I be in your place."

Others came, drawn by the shot.

"Was it a Mexican?" asked the Ring Tailed Panther eagerly. "Tell me it was a Mexican and make me happy."

"You can be happy," said Obed. "It was a Mexican and he was shooting with what the law would define as an intent to kill. He sent a rifle bullet across the Guadalupe, aimed at our young friend, Edward Fulton. Ned did not see the bullet, but his sensitiveness to touch showed that it passed within an inch of his face."

Now the Ring Tailed Panther roared, but it was not between his shut teeth.

"By the great horn spoon, I'm glad!" he said, "All the waitin' an' backin' an' fillin' are over. We do our talkin' now with cannon an' rifles."

But not another shot was fired that night. It was merely some scout or skirmisher who had sent the fugitive bullet across the river, but it was enough. The Mexican intentions were now evident.

Ned went off duty toward morning and slept a few hours in one of the cabins. When he awoke he ate a hearty breakfast and went back to the river. About half of the eighteen had taken naps, but they were all gathered once more along the Guadalupe. Ned observed the Mexican camp and saw some movement there. Presently all the soldiers rode out, with Castenada at their head.

"They're comin' to our ford! By the great horn spoon, they are comin'!" roared the Ring Tailed Panther.

It seemed that he was right as the Mexicans were approaching at a gallop, making a gallant show, their lances glittering in the sun.

"Lay down, all!" said the Ring Tailed Panther. "The moment they strike the water turn loose with your rifles an' roar an' scratch an' claw!"

But when they were within one hundred yards of the Guadalupe the Mexicans suddenly sheered off. Evidently they did not like the looks of the Texan rifles which they could plainly see. The defenders of the fords uttered a derisive shout, and some of the Mexicans fired. But their bullets fell short, only a single one of them coming as far as the edge of the Guadalupe. The Texans did not reply. They would not waste ammunition in any such foolish fashion.

The Mexicans stopped, when four or five hundred yards away, and began to wave their lances and utter taunting shouts. The Texans only laughed, all except the Ring Tailed Panther, who growled.

"You see, Ned," said Obed, "that one charge does not make a passage. It appears to me that our friend Castenada does not want his uniform or himself spoiled by our good Texas lead. Now, I take it, we can rest easy awhile longer."

He lay down in the grass under the trees and Ned did likewise, but the Ring Tailed Panther would not be consoled. An opportunity had been lost, and he hurled strange and miscellaneous epithets at the distant Mexicans. Standing upon a little hillock he called them more bad names than Ned had ever before heard. He aspersed the character of their ancestors even to the eighth generation and of their possible descendants also to the eighth generation. He issued every kind of challenge to any kind of combat, and at last, red and panting, descended the hillock.

"Do you feel better?" asked Obed.

"I've whispered a few of my thoughts. Yes, I can re'lly say that the state of my health is improvin'."

"Then sit down and rest. It's never too late to try, try again. Remember that the day is long and the Mexicans may certainly have a chance."

The Ring Tailed Panther growled, but sat down.

In the afternoon the Mexicans again formed in line and trotted down toward the other ford, but as before they did not like the look of the Texan rifles and turned away, after shouting many challenges, brandishing lances and firing random shots. But the Texans contented themselves again with a grim silence, and the Mexicans rode back to their camp. The disgust of the Ring Tailed Panther was so deep that he could not utter a word. But Obed was glad.

"More men will come to-night," he said to Ned. "You know that requests for help were sent in all directions by the people of Gonzales, and if I know our Texans, and I think I do, they'll ride hard to be here. Castenada, in a way, is besieging us now, but—well, the tables may be turned and he'll turn with 'em."

Just at twilight a great shout arose from the women in the village. There was a snorting of horses, a jingling of spurs and embroidered bridle reins, and twenty lean, brown men, very tall and broad of shoulder, rode up. They were the vanguard of the Texan help, and they rejoiced when they found that the Mexican force was still on the west side of the Guadalupe.

Their welcome was not noisy but deep. The eighteen were now the thirty-eight, and to-morrow they would be a hundred or more. The twenty had ridden more than a hundred miles, but they were fresh and zealous for the combat. They went down to the river, and, in the darkness, looked at the Mexican camp fires, while the Ring Tailed Panther roared out his opinion.

"The Mexicans won't bring the fight to us," he said, "so we must carry it to them. They've galloped down here twice an' they've looked at the river an' they've looked at us, an' they've galloped back again. We can't let 'em set over there besiegin' us, we must cross an' besiege them an' get to roarin' an' rippin' an' clawin'."

"To-morrow," said Obed, "more of our friends will be here and when we all get together we will discuss it and make a decision."

"Of course we'll discuss it!" roared the Ring Tailed Panther, "an' then we'll come to a decision, an' there's only one decision that we can come to. We'll cross the river an' mighty quick we'll make them Mexicans wish they'd chose a camp a hundred miles from Gonzales."

The others laughed, but after all, the Ring Tailed Panther had stated their position truly. Every man agreed with him. The watch at the river that