Part 29 (1/2)
The movements of the several a.s.signments of the Mexican army went on deliberately all through the day. The circle that was made was pretty long, however, and there were gaps between the camps which would require careful patrolling to make complete what Crockett described as ”the corral of the Gringos.”
”Anything like a provision-train, for instance,” remarked Bowie, ”couldn't get in without a battle. There isn't any American force yet gathered in Texas that could undertake to whip an army of five thousand men.”
Night came at last, and with it came a moon instead of the darkness which Travis had been wis.h.i.+ng for. It was not a good night for a secret messenger, and the mounted patrols of the enemy were going to and fro almost up to the walls of the fort.
”Their infantry outlooks are well out in advance of their lines,”
remarked Travis, standing in the gate-way. ”I doubt if it's possible for Carson to get through.”
”If I thought he couldn't I'd go myself,” exclaimed Bowie. ”I wish he were an Indian!”
”That's jest what I am,” came from the brave ranger who had volunteered. ”I've crept through a band of Chickasaws. My skelp isn't wuth as much as Bowie's is, anyhow. It's no use in talkin'. I'm off.”
”You bet he is,” quietly remarked a voice behind them, ”and I'm goin'
with him the first stretch.”
There stood Davy Crockett, rifle in hand.
”I'd feel better if you would,” said Bowie. ”You're an older hand than he is. See him as far as their lines and take note of everything,--and come back.”
”Come back?” chuckled Davy. ”Of course I will. I'll have some fun, too. Get along, Carson. I'm goin' to take keer of ye. You're young.”
Off they went, and Travis laughed aloud as they disappeared.
”You wait now,” he said. ”Davy's goin' to stir up the Greasers somehow before he gets done with 'em, but I can't guess what the sell is.”
It would have been only a very sombre life-and-death affair to men of another kind, but these were hardly excited to any unusual feeling.
They were in the daily habit of looking death in the face, and they could laugh at him. Nevertheless, during many minutes that followed, they and a changing group of rangers waited in the gate-way, listening silently to every sound that came to them from the hostile camps. A troop of horse went trampling by within a hundred yards of them and they heard the words of command. More minutes pa.s.sed and the stillness seemed to increase.
”We'd have heard something if the Greasers had sighted 'em,” whispered one of the men. ”They're not took yet----”
”Hear that gun!” shouted Travis, the next instant. ”That means something!”
Another cannon sounded, and another, and then they heard the rapid reports of musketry from a score of points all along the lines.
”Bad luck!” groaned a ranger.
”They've got 'em!” said another.
”It's good-by, Davy Crockett, I'm afraid,” said Bowie, in a voice that was deep with emotion. ”We ought not to have let him go.”
The expressions of regret for him and Carson were many and sincere, all around, but the cunning old bear hunter had been doing a remarkable piece of what pa.s.sed with him for fun.
Only about ten minutes before the first alarm gun sounded a pair of shadows had been gliding along on the ground, midway between the two camps that were nearest to the fort gate.
”So far, so good,” whispered one of them. ”What's best to do next?”
”Straight into the corral,” was the reply. ”I allers feel at hum among hosses. They're kind o' friendly. Besides, you've got to hev one to travel on.”
A very large number of them, of all sorts, had been picketed there, a short distance in the rear of the camps. They were guarded, of course, but they were entirely out of the supposable reach of Gringo thieves from the fort, and the guards were taking things easily. So were the quadrupeds, and not one of them was at all disturbed in his mind when two men who might belong to the same army slipped silently in among them.