Part 12 (1/2)

”Something slipped into the water, and I am half of the opinion it was a man.”

”Then it must have been a Mexican!”

”To be sure. Stay here and watch, and I'll go down the stream a bit. He ought to come up soon.”

Dan had hardly spoken when he espied a head coming up but thirty or forty feet away. It was the head of a Mexican soldier, evidently a spy.

”Halt there!” cried Dan. ”Come back here, or I'll fire!”

It is doubtful if he would have fired on the swimmer, having no desire to open the war in person, but his threat had considerable effect.

”No shoota me!” cried the Mexican. ”No shoota!” And then he continued to talk in Spanish, which Dan and his friend understood, but imperfectly.

”I want you to come back here,” went on the youth, and he pointed his gun.

At this the Mexican dove out of sight, not to come up for a distance of a rod or more.

”Shoot him--you have the right,” urged Henry. ”Or else I'll do it.”

”Don't, Henry, it might be murder. Besides, we were ordered not to discharge any firearms until we received orders. A shot down here would alarm the whole Mexican camp.”

”But we don't want that rascal to escape, Dan.”

”I have it.” Dan looked around and soon found several fair-sized stones. ”Come back at once!” he ordered, and, taking aim, he let drive with one of the stones.

Dan had always been good at that sort of thing, and the stone landed, as intended, on the Mexican's back. He let out a howl of pain, so loud that several Texans at once rode up to the vicinity to learn what was the matter.

”Yes, he's got to come ash.o.r.e,” declared one of the men. ”He may be a spy who has been over to Gonzales, and carries some kind of a message.”

He raised his voice in Spanish. ”Come ash.o.r.e, or we'll shoot you; do you hear?”

_”Si, capitan_” (”Yes, captain”), was the answer, and without further ado the Mexican turned and came back to the river bank. As he crawled out, wet and muddy, he looked the picture of despair.

”It's Pietro the gambler, from Bastrop,” said one of the Texans, after a close scrutiny. ”I'll wager he was going to give us away to the greasers in camp.”

”No, no, me watch fight, dat's all, senor,” said the Mexican, who was noted not only for his skill at cards but also for his skill at cheating. ”Pietro fight for Texans when fight 't all.”

”That don't go down, you card-sharp!” cried another of the men. ”I know him well, and he would cheat his own grandmother if he could. Let us make him a prisoner, at least until this business we are on is over.”

So it was agreed, and despite the gamblers' protests he was bound hands and feet and tied up to a near-by tree. Had he not been captured, the fight so close at hand would probably not have come off.

On went the Texans, until a point was gained overlooking the camping spot of the Mexicans. The advance guard reported that Captain Castinado was still at the place with his dragoons.

”Then we'll wait until daybreak and open up on them,” said the Texans, and went into temporary camp. It is doubtful if any of the number closed his eyes for the balance of that never-to-be-forgotten night. To them this contest was to be like that of Concord and Lexington to the patriots of 1775,--it was to mark the dawn of Texan liberty.

The Mexicans had located at a spot called DeWitt's mound; while the Texans occupied a position farther down the valley and close to the river. As soon as it began to grow light, the four-pounder was placed in position, and the rough but rugged little army was drawn up in battle array. Only here and there was there a man in uniform, and the weapons were of all sorts and sizes. Leaders and privates had come over, some on horseback, some on ponies, and others on foot.

”Give it to them!” came the sharp order, when it was light enough to locate the Mexicans with certainty, and the bra.s.s four-pounder belched forth its contents, and the battle was opened at last.

”Forward!” was the cry down the line, and away swept the Texans, in two long lines, Mr. Radbury well to the front, and Dan not very far behind.