CHAPTER XVIII.
CROCKETT'S ALARM GUN.
February 24, 1836, and a splendid winter morning for a parade.
Altogether unmolested as they came, the Mexican army marched intoposition around the Alamo fort. Not a shot was fired at them. Not aman of the garrison was in sight. There was a sullen air about thewhole concern. Upon the church wall, indeed, Colonel Travis with afield-glass studied and estimated the assailants he was to contend with.
"No heavy guns, Davy," he said to Crockett, standing near him. "Castrowas right about everything else. We shall get a message from SantaAnna pretty soon. Hullo! There he comes now. Let's go down."
"You've only jest one thing to do," replied Crockett, dryly, at thehead of the stairs they were to go down by.
"What's that?" said Travis, getting ready for a joke. "Out with it."
"Well," chuckled the bear hunter, one stair down, "you know what he'sgoin' to ask for. Just you demand the immediate, onconditionalsurrender of Santa Anna and all his chickens."
"Crockett!" exclaimed Travis, "I can tell you one thing. I know him.If we should surrender, no matter what conditions he might give, theold murderer would have every man of us shot before sunset."
"Not a doubt of it," said Crockett; "and between you and me and thegate-post, I'd ruther do a small chance of hard fighting first. That'sabout the way the men feel, too."
That was the kind of reputation the Mexican general had won forhimself, and he was shortly to add to it by his conduct of his campaignin Texas.
By the time the two friends came out through the church door-way, theofficer of the guard at the gate was loudly responding to a sonorousbugle summons. A mounted officer, attended by the bugler only, hadhalted outside.
"A cartel from His Excellency General de Santa Anna!" he shouted, inresponse to the hail of the sergeant. "I am accredited to SenorTravis."
"Colonel Travis, you mean!" shouted back the sergeant, angrily; but theclear, ringing tones of Bowie called out,--
"Let him in, Daly. Never mind his nonsense."
Open swung the gate, and in rode the very airy captain of lancers whohad been sent to demand the surrender of the fort, but who hadinsolently neglected to acknowledge the military rank of its commander.
IN RODE THE VERY AIRY CAPTAIN OF LANCERS]
That was the sum and substance of the letter he shortly delivered toTravis, after dismounting and exchanging formal compliments. Added toit, however, was the grim assurance that, in case of resistance, thefort would be stormed at once and no quarter whatever would be shown tothe garrison.
"Good!" said Travis, smilingly. "No use in my writing. Go back to thegeneral and tell him to come on. We are ready."
"Is that all?" exclaimed the astonished captain. "Are you mad? Do youreally intend to resist us?"
"Travis," whispered Crockett, "tell him to say that if they'll marchright hum and agree to stay thar, we won't hurt a soul of 'em."
The captain heard him, and his astonishment showed itself more plainly,but the reply of Travis was strictly formal.
"That is all," he said. "He knows me. Tell him I am in command here.We shall hold the Alamo!"
Low bowed the captain, turning to his horse, and in a moment more hewas spurring beyond the gate, and it closed clangingly behind him.There was really nothing more for the bugler to do, but he blew hishorn furiously before he galloped away.
"It'll take something better'n bugle music to get the Greasers overthose walls," remarked Crockett; but the long eighteen-pounder was nowat one of the southerly embrasures, and, at a signal from Travis, athunder of defiance rang out.
"That's the last blank cartridge we'll fire," said Travis. "Now let'ssee what they'll do next. The fools can't really mean to try to stormthe works? I almost wish they would."
"If he'd said he'd do it to-day, he'll put it off till to-morrow,"replied Crockett, sarcastically. "He never kept his word since he wasborn,--except about throat-cutting."
No other voice responded. Quiet, resolute, cheerful, the picked menwho constituted that heroic garrison were at their stations, and not aquiver of fear showed itself among them. As for the enemy, Crocketthad not been far out of the way. Postponement was second nature toSanta Anna. Besides, he was really possessed of considerable militaryeducation and ability. He could see that, as the rangers said amongthemselves, "he had a pretty hard nut to crack." He would thereforethink about it during the rest of that day. All he was ready to do atonce was to send his heaviest battery into position and order it toblaze away. It was composed of very handsomely polished brassnine-pounder guns. It swept into its place with a flourish of brassmusic from the bands and a sounding of many drums.
"There will be a breach in the wall before sunset," declared thegeneral, confidently. "We can charge in to-morrow."
Loudly roared the guns, and they were good ones, but praise did notawait the artillerymen. One shot struck the wall of the church.Another went over the fort. The remainder fell short and ploughed deepfurrows in the sandy soil.
"Santa Maria!" exclaimed the colonel of artillery. "We must do betternext time."
The six guns of the battery were reloaded. Every piece was aimed withcare, and off they went again.
"How is it, Crockett?" shouted Travis to his friend, for the eccentricsatirist was sitting on the wall, his legs dangling outside, and he wasleaning forward.
"Two on 'em hit the wall," replied Crockett. "Dented it some. TellDaly to come around and see the holes."
"Bowie," said Travis, "you and Daly. Don't let another man out. Hisnext battery is nearly ready to open fire."
It was quite ready, but it was composed of lighter pieces. A minute orso later, Bowie and the sergeant were out in front talking to Crocketton the wall.
"They've damaged it a little," said Daly. "I don't like the looks ofit."
"Could they punch a hole through," asked Davy, "if they hammered longenough?"
"Reckon they could," remarked Bowie. "I think that's our worst danger.But I want to hear from those other guns."
Two batteries sounded this time, and the three Texans stood still andwatched with deep interest the effect of the shots. It did not seem tooccur to either of them that a cannonball might possibly hurt a man.
"Right over my head," said Crockett, quietly. "Hit the roof of theconvent."
"Hurrah!" shouted Daly. "Them nine-pound balls punch, but the sixesdon't make a mark worth a cent. They can jest thunder away."
"Come on," said Bowie. "Let's go in. If they had heavier guns there'dbe a breach in that wall pretty soon. Anything smaller'n sixes wouldbe like pelting us with apples."
Santa Anna did not seem to be of that opinion. Or else he may havecalculated that sharp cannonading would dishearten the garrison. Hisown troops evidently enjoyed it, but there was a severe shock awaitingthe distinguished Mexican. Again and again his heaviest battery hadspoken thunderously, and he felt sure that it must have accomplishedsomething, but now before him stood General Castrillon, in command ofall the artillery of the invading army. His face was red, hismoustaches seemed to curl with wrath, and his first utterances werehalf choked with furious execrations upon the army commissary atMonterey.
"What is the matter, general?" sternly demanded the commander-in-chief.
"No more nine-pound shot!" roared General Castrillon. "The miscreanthas loaded the other wagon with twelve-pound balls! They are useless!"
"_Caramba!_" almost screamed his chief. "I will have him shot! Letthe cannonading cease. The fort must be taken by escalade. Have theladders ready by nine o'clock to-morrow morning."
The fort was safer, but an admirable example had been given of theinefficiency, indolence, and general worthlessness of the Mexicanofficials. Not even the probability of being shot for their blunderscould induce them to discharge their duties thoroughly.
"That battery's tired out," remarked Crockett, as the pause in thefiring grew longer. "Reckon they're holdin' on whi
le they can take agame of seven-up. They haven't hurt us any."
"Yes, they have," said Travis, quietly. "Don't you see? Or haven'tyou been up the church again? They're swinging their camps around tomake a blockade."
"They can't choke us off that way," responded Crockett. "Thar ain'tenough of 'em. If they'll string out in as long a line as would go'round, it 'll be thin all the way. I'd go a-gunning anywhar along thatline."
"That isn't the point," said Travis. "He's arranging to cut offreinforcements. He knows how many men we have, you can bet on that.He doesn't mean to let any more in."
"The kind of men that are coming," growled Crockett, "are likely tofind a way in or make one. But it's about time they were here."
"I'm going to send a despatch to Houston," said Travis. "Carson hasvolunteered to take it."
"Well," returned Crockett, "most likely he'll know without our tellin',but what if Carson doesn't get through?"
"We must take our chances," said Travis. "One man's all we can spare.I'm almost afraid Houston can't send any more to us just now."
"Every man in Texas owns a rifle!" exclaimed Crockett, with energy."Not a livin' soul ought to stay at home."
"Pay and rations," said Travis, calmly. "I'm afraid Bowie's dollarsdidn't come in time. It isn't any fault of his, but all the gold inMexico wouldn't save the Alamo."
Bowie was listening, but he turned away without speaking, for he wasquestioning himself. Was it any fault of his? Had it been his duty toreturn at once with the cash found in the _adobe_ ruin instead ofpushing on with Tetzcatl? It was a serious question, but at last heput it away.
"Come what may," he told himself, "I could not have done otherwise. Ihad no choice. I was driven. I was in one of those places where a mancannot decide for himself. The Comanches did it."
The movements of the several assignments of the Mexican army went ondeliberately all through the day. The circle that was made was prettylong, however, and there were gaps between the camps which wouldrequire 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 yetgathered in Texas that could undertake to whip an army of five thousandmen."
Night came at last, and with it came a moon instead of the darknesswhich Travis had been wishing for. It was not a good night for asecret messenger, and the mounted patrols of the enemy were going toand 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 possiblefor Carson to get through."
"If I thought he couldn't I'd go myself," exclaimed Bowie. "I wish hewere an Indian!"
"That's jest what I am," came from the brave ranger who hadvolunteered. "I've crept through a band of Chickasaws. My skelp isn'twuth 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 thanhe is. See him as far as their lines and take note of everything,--andcome 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 somehowbefore 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 ofanother kind, but these were hardly excited to any unusual feeling.They were in the daily habit of looking death in the face, and theycould laugh at him. Nevertheless, during many minutes that followed,they and a changing group of rangers waited in the gate-way, listeningsilently to every sound that came to them from the hostile camps. Atroop of horse went trampling by within a hundred yards of them andthey heard the words of command. More minutes passed and the stillnessseemed to increase.
"We'd have heard something if the Greasers had sighted 'em," whisperedone of the men. "They're not took yet----"
"Hear that gun!" shouted Travis, the next instant. "That meanssomething!"
Another cannon sounded, and another, and then they heard the rapidreports 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 thatwas deep with emotion. "We ought not to have let him go."
The expressions of regret for him and Carson were many and sincere, allaround, but the cunning old bear hunter had been doing a remarkablepiece of what passed with him for fun.
Only about ten minutes before the first alarm gun sounded a pair ofshadows had been gliding along on the ground, midway between the twocamps 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 amonghosses. They're kind o' friendly. Besides, you've got to hev one totravel on."
A very large number of them, of all sorts, had been picketed there, ashort distance in the rear of the camps. They were guarded, of course,but they were entirely out of the supposable reach of Gringo thievesfrom the fort, and the guards were taking things easily. So were thequadrupeds, and not one of them was at all disturbed in his mind whentwo men who might belong to the same army slipped silently in amongthem.
"No Greaser kin see through a hoss," remarked one of the adventurers,"but I'll tell you what, my boy, your tightest squeeze is goin' to bein gettin' out on the further side. They're guardin' thar rear more'nthey are toward the fort. They're on the watch for anything SamHouston may let loose on 'em."
That was in strict accordance with the military prudences of thesituation, but for that very reason all the guards on duty were lookingout instead of looking in. No patrol, for instance, beyond the camps,whether mounted or on foot, could at once imagine anything suspiciousconcerning a dim shape slowly tramping out from the horse corral. Onlyone did come, and he walked along leading with him a saddled andbridled mustang.
"Here comes the guard!" he suddenly exclaimed, aloud. "Now's my time.I'll signal to Davy."
He sprang upon the back of the mustang, turned and blew a short, sharpwhistle, and galloped away. Hundreds of men may have heard thewhistle, but only one understood it. Not a solitary Mexican at oncefollowed the vanishing horseman, and he quickly was beyond successfulfollowing.
Hoarse shouts had gone after him, truly. Orders to halt, with Spanishinquiries and execrations, had sounded from all directions. It wasunderstood that something or other had happened, and there wereofficers who at once began to investigate the matter.
The proper direction of their first efforts was plainly indicated by anextraordinary disturbance in the corral. Quite a large number of thehorses were now loose and they were running around excitedly. It didnot arise to the dignity of a stampede, but the guards who first rushedin came near being trampled down. These were joined at once by the toozealous sentries of a battery which had been stationed at the right ofthe corral, so that its guns were for the moment left to take care ofthemselves.
"Don't I wish I had some spikes?" inquired a very low, hoarse chucklethat was crawling along at the side of one of the guns. "If I had I'dspile every touch-hole of this 'ere battery. Hullo! Thar they are. Ireckon I kin shew 'em a new p'int in the right way of handlin'artillery. That is, if ary one of these long fours is primed."
After that there came a clicking of flint and steel, and then a softglow of fire close to the ground.
Louder grew the tumult in the corral, angrier and more numerously arosethe shouts and commands of the officers.
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sp; "Jim Carson's got clean away from 'em, I reckon," was spoken moreloudly, "but that lot of Greasers have marched to about the right spot.Wonder what this thing is shotted with. Here she goes!"
A hand went up to the breech of the gun and then the first boomingalarm went out.
"Reckon 'twas a round shot," he said. "It fetched 'em. One more."
A second gun spoke out, and then a third, in quick succession, but toMexican ears it seemed the correct thing for any of their own guns todo in case of a sudden alarm at night. It would show the garrison thatits besiegers were awake.
Nevertheless, the iron missiles had been sent with deadly effect amongthe luckless detachment of infantry, and every man of it who was leftunhurt fired off his musket at the space in front of him and thepossible Gringos it might contain. Sentry after sentry, all along, incamp after camp, followed that example, front and rear. The verygame-cocks in their coops crowed vigorously, and the general himselfcame out of his tent to see what was the matter with them and with hisarmy.
The artillerymen who now came hurrying back to their guns found no onewith them,--nothing but an entirely unexplainable mystery. There werenow no soldiers in front of the battery, however. The coast was clear,and across the moonlit area from which he had driven his enemies DavyCrockett strode on to the Alamo.
"Who goes there?" greeted him from the sentry at the gate.
"I ain't a-goin' jest now; I'm comin'," shouted back the very grim oldjoker, with a fierce laugh. "Travis, I reckon Jim Carson's all right.We took him a good mount from thar own corral. But I fired them alarmguns myself. Wait till I git in and I'll tell jest how I did it, but Ireckon the Greasers 'll think we've made a _sortee_."
Three cheers were given him, and these too were heard by the Mexicansto increase their perplexity. Something very like a _sortie_ hadreally been made, and the entire Mexican army was getting under arms.One regiment marched a mile before it could be ordered back, but SantaAnna himself had preserved his military composure.
"_Caramba!_" he exclaimed, in reply to one of his officers. "Houston?No! He has no force that he can send. We have nothing to deal withbut the desperadoes inside of yonder walls, and we shall slaughter themto-morrow."
The Lost Gold of the Montezumas: A Story of the Alamo Page 18