Chapter 11
Preparing for the Coming Upheaval
The foreigners who are making war against the Mexican nation, violating all laws, are not deserving of any consideration, and for that reason no quarter will be given them.
-Santa Anna
Near Laredo-Early January, 1836
General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna was still furious a full month after the fall of San Antonio. Consequently, he stared maliciously at his brother-in-law. Santa Anna understood the military importance of making a general squirm. He therefore let the silence drag on, and as demanded by military custom, General Cos stared straight ahead.
Santa Anna now spoke condescendingly, “So, my esteemed brother-in-law, what have you to say for yourself?”
“It is a great pleasure to see you, Excellency,” Cos responded obsequiously’
Santa Anna once again resorted to silence, allowing Cos to squirm yet further. “You have disgraced the Army of Mexico, General,” he said, and this last was said seemingly without malice.
As General Cos remained silent, Santa Anna eventually added, “What would you have me do with you, general? How can I appease the Mexican people for this shame you have brought upon us?”
At this Cos responded, “Sir, I am in your hands. I request only to be given the honor of serving my people in whatever way you deem appropriate.”
“Honor…Honor!!!” Santa Anna exploded. “You speak to me of honor! You, who have disgraced your uniform. You should be dead on the battlefield, you and your entire army! By all rights I should have you shot. No, that is too good for you. I should have you placed in a dungeon with rats. But even that is too good. Instead, I think that I shall have you restored to the army so that you may meet your properly appointed fate.”
“But sir,” Cos rejoined, “I gave my word of honor that I would not take up arms against the Texians!”
“Your word of honor be damned! Sir, you have no honor! You will follow me back to Texas, or I will have you executed. Do I make myself clear, General?”
“Yes, sir!” Cos replied humbly.
“Now get out of my sight, General!”
Cos murmured, “Yes, sir,” at which he saluted and retreated from the room.
An Hour Later
General Cos was stung by the humiliation his brother-in-law had dealt him. While it was true that he was El Presidente, he was still just a man. Still, Cos had no choice but to accept it. Santa Anna had given him a poorly trained army, and he was the one to pay for it. He understood that this was the way things went in the army. Secretly, he was even a little bit relieved. He had been forced by the Texians to promise to no longer fight against them, and now he had been forced to recant. His honor was in tatters on both counts, but at least he would now have the opportunity to restore it. Such were the fortunes of war, as Bexar beckoned to him once again.
San Antonio-A Week Later
Hank had never seen anything like it in his entire life. The wind blew furiously, and the snow fell in torrents. His father had told him about great snow storms back in Scotland, but he’d never experienced more than a few inches at one time. This was dangerous. No, it was downright deadly. In point of fact, this was little short of a matter of survival for everyone in the volunteer army. How long it would go on, Hank had no idea whatsoever.
The wind within the maelstrom was so brutally loud that no one could even carry on a conversation. The card games and drinking had long since subsided. The men were simply huddled together within the tiny room in an attempt to use each other for warmth. Hank had a whiff of some untidy odors, but the wind kept it from being intolerable. Under the circumstances, that was the only upside he could think of.
Hank had apologized to Hawk for their fight on the prairie. He had known that Hawk was right; he just missed Julie and Auggey, and that fact had clouded his judgment. Hawk had understood, and their damaged friendship had subsequently lapsed into an unsettling truce.
Hawk had subsequently managed to dissuade Hank from going south with Grant and Johnson on the expedition to Matamoros. It had seemed like a good idea to Hank, but Hawk had suggested, “Those two don’t have any idea what they’re doing. Neither one of them has ever had any military training of any type. Riding into enemy territory with such a small force is pure tom foolery.”
Following Hawk’s advice, Hank had stayed in Bexar, but more than half of the volunteers that had taken San Antonio had left with Grant and Johnson. Now, as Hank leaned towards the fire, he thought how glad he was that he was not traveling south in this abominable storm.
To make matters worse, quite a few men had deemed the war to be over, and they had simply set off for home. The upshot was that there were now less than a hundred Texians remaining in Bexar. That wouldn’t be near enough if the Mexican Army came back, and Hawk had already predicted that they would.
Thinking to escape a bad situation, Hank had suggested to Hawk that they skedaddle as well. But Hawk would have no part of it. “We have plenty of time before the Mexicans come back, Hank. They won’t be back till spring.” So Hawk had stayed, but he nonetheless continued to feel a powerful desire to get home and find Julie.
There was one thing that concerned Hank mightily. The Mexican Army, wherever it was, had to be suffering through the same weather. Maybe, just maybe, it was worse for them. After all, some of them might never have even seen snow, much less experienced such a horrible blizzard. Hank was troubled by it all. Maybe God was punishing both sides for what they’d done. But he couldn’t be sure, so he tried hard to turn his mind away from these thoughts.
Instead, he concentrated on Julie. He thought on how their last words before he’d left were not how he had wanted them to be. Having been away from her before, he knew now how much he loved her. He missed her so terribly. He didn’t just miss her, he actually needed her deep within his soul. He understood that better than he ever had before. And Auggey - he missed him, too. He wanted to be with them, now, in the warmth of their cabin, by the fire. And there would be a good fire, of that he was certain.
He wished he had never left home. But he knew this was right, painful as it was. He knew he had to be here at the Alamo, fighting for liberty.
South Texas
Francisco de la Garza was completely numb from the bitter cold. The wind was driving through him, and the snow was blowing over him from every direction. He could only huddle next to his fellow soldiers and try to share warmth from them and the fire. It was so cold that midway through the night he had thought that he might die. He had lost the feeling in his fingers and toes, but by continuously shifting and moving, he had been able to avoid falling asleep. He knew that if he had done so during the night he would have died. As the morning dawned he was amazed to discover that only a few soldiers had died during the night.
In the cold rawness of morning it was possible to see the after math of the storm. The snow was knee deep, so deep that it was a struggle just to find enough firewood to keep a fire going. There was no food at all to eat, and there were several thousand men on this plain. Francisco felt certain that every one of them was wondering the same thing – what in the name of the Virgin Mary were they doing here! Why had they not waited until spring to return to Bexar? Better yet, why were they going back at all?
After the surrender at the Alamo in December, they had been told that they would all be paroled from the army. But no, when General Santa Anna had arrived, they had all turned around and headed north yet again. Francisco despised General Cos. The man had gone back on his word. And now here they were, in the middle of nowhere, caught in the worst snow storm that had ever been. Surely God was sending the army a message.
But then the wind began to let up, the sun came out, and the clouds began to dissipate. Survival now assured, Francisco was awed by the natural beauty everywhere he looked. The trees looked like giant white apparitions. The horses and mules were completely cove
red over with snow. As far as the eye could see, the world had turned to a soft, glowing, pristine shade of white.
As if by magic, the sun now struck his medallion, causing it to glow incandescently. Francisco saw that it was a sign from God. This natural beauty was a gift that only God could bestow, and it was a sign that the army was blessed. They would survive, and they would go on to Bexar, and to victory – to the much deserved revenge for the embarrassment they had suffered in December.
Now, within the dark recesses of his mind, he could not avoid prurient thoughts of the beautiful Señora Antonia. Perhaps he would see her again. Try as he might to push thoughts of her aside, he conjured up her image. It was as if Lucifer himself were inside of Francisco. He simply could not control his lust. He promised himself he would pray, as soon as the weather turned warm again, he would pray to the Virgin Mary.
San Antonio
Hawk finally found the nerve to visit Antonia. A week had passed since their return to Bexar. He had spent the entire time hoping that she would come to him, but she had not. He had thought about her incessantly, so much so that he realized now how much he had come under her spell. Nonetheless, his only means of gaining the requisite strength to seek her out was to first stoke himself with mescal. On a clear and cold night, having done so to good measure, he set off for her house in search of fulfillment.
He knocked on her door and, the door swinging wide after a few moments, she peered out from a dimly lit room. “Señor Halcón,” she said with just the tiniest hint of pleasure.
“Señora Perez,” Hawk replied with undue formality, “May I come in?”
“To what purpose?” she responded.
“No purpose, just to talk I suppose,” he said tightly. It was clear by his demeanor that he was pretty far gone on mescal.
“Señor, you are drunk!” she replied, scolding him.
“Si, Señora, I confess my sins,” he responded with an impish grin.
“Señor, I do not wish to see you in your current state of drunkenness,” she responded. “I am sorry,” and she began to close the door, but Hawk pushed it open.
Finding it necessary to lean against the wall in order to maintain his balance, he said with difficulty, “But, Señora, I wish to talk to you, something important.” The effect of the mescal intensifying rapidly as it coursed through his body, he mumbled nearly incoherently, “I apologize, Señora. I wanted to see you, but I needed a couple of drinks so as to get up my nerve.”
Antonia was now frowning severely. “Señor Halcón, I will not speak to you in your current state. Now please go away!” And at that she shut the door in his face.
Having been turned away, Hawk was able to reorient himself sufficiently to find the cantina, everything thereafter shrinking to a blur of intense proportions.
Nacogdoches-January
Nate Tucker lollygagged on a flour sack in front of the general store. It was a fine sunny day in Nacogdoches, a little on the cool side, but not bad for January. Such a day as this wasn’t even possible in Kentucky this time of year.
It was Nate’s day off, and he was feeling expansive. He had become quite devout after his episode with the devil, so much so that he decided he could on this day risk skipping the Sunday service down the street.
Lately, he’d had a quandary every Sunday. He didn’t want to leave Mephistopheles alone, but at the same time, he felt that taking a critter with such a name to church was blasphemous. Reminded thusly, he reached into his pocket to feel for Mephistopheles. Sure enough, he was right there.
Things had been going great for Nate ever since he had befriended the creature. He had to admit that Mephistopheles had become his best friend. He never complained, and he sort of went into a trance whenever Nate rubbed his tummy. “Why couldn’t women be that way?” He thought to himself.
He was contemplating the deep psychological significance of his own question when he noticed a large group of men riding into town from the north. He could tell by their dress that they were from Tennessee. Nate liked Tennesseans alright, but only up to a point. In his view they were overly proud. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it just seemed that every one of them oozed some smug sense of self importance, as if they were from the Promised Land. Confronted with such behavior, he invariably wondered to himself, “If they come from the Promised Land, how could it be promised if they’d done left it?” But such thoughts never seemed to have an answer, so he pushed it aside and frowned at the group as they rode directly up to him.
A large man in the front of the group leaned down off of his horse and, stepping up on the walk, he announced affably, “Good morning, sir. And a fine morning it is. My companions and I have just arrived in Texas from Tennessee. Would you know where we might sign up for the revolution?”
Nate was thinking to himself that here was just the confirmation of what he had been contemplating. This man was talking like he was some sort of member of the Congress of the United States of America or something, saying special big words like ‘companions’, when nobody talked like that nowadays.
Nate’s thinking was clearly taking too long, for the man continued, offering, “Name’s Davy Crockett, sir. Perhaps you have heard the name? We have come to join the Texas Revolution.”
At this Nate’s jaw dropped in awe but he nonetheless managed to blurt, “Why, yes sir, I believe I have indeed heard of you. I myself am from your neighboring state to the north – Kentucky. Name’s Nate Tucker. May I be of service, sir?”
“Well now, I am indeed pleased to meet you sir, and don’t it beat all. We have come all this way, and the first person we meet in Nacogdoches is practically a kinsman!” and Crockett said this last with an enormous grin.
It certainly didn’t take much – Nate was completely disarmed by Davy Crockett’s charm. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he felt special to meet such a famous person. He stood and shook Crockett’s hand firmly, admitting proudly, “I declare, it is an honor to meet you, Mr. Crockett, and your friends, too.” He smiled and nodded at the rest of the group, adding politely, “As to your reference to the revolution, don’t know exactly what to say ‘bout that. Folks around these parts are saying conflicting things. The Texians done beat back the Mexican Army on all fronts. Sent them packing all the way back to the Rio Grande, that’s for sure.” Nate paused to see if Mr. Davy Crockett was aware of this fact. As it seemed that he was, he added, “So some folks think it’s all over. We even had a couple of fellas come through here last week that fought at Bexar. They was headed the other way - back to the United States of America.”
Davy responded to this last comment, “Yes, sir, we met them on the trail coming south.” He nonetheless continued with, “Now here’s the thing, Nate. We come from the other end of things – the views held in the U.S. of A. And folks there are saying that Mexico is a proud nation - that it isn’t over yet. They’re saying that the president of Mexico, Señor high-and-mighty Lopez de Santa Anna whatever his name is, has a real mean streak in him, and that he likes to play at war. So we’ve been hearing that it’s got a ways to go before it’s over.”
Uncertain as to what he might say to this, Nate blanched and nodded, “Well, sir, I don’t know about such things. However, I do know this. There is a committee of townspeople here that is attempting to recruit volunteers to join up and fight for the cause.”
“And where might we find them, Mr. Nate Tucker?” Crockett queried with newfound interest.
“Well, sir, they would be down at the church house at the end of the street, but I ‘spect Sunday service should be ending any minute. So if you will follow me, I can point out the mayor of Nacogdoches. He will be the person in charge.”
At this suggestion, the men tied off their horses, and Nate descended from the steps and led the group southward. What few people who were not at service came out to gawk. Such a large group, obviously all of them from Tennessee, was certainly something to see. B
y the time the group got to the sheriff’s office, word had spread that Davy Crockett was in town. Church had just let out, and a crowd was already beginning to gather. The sheriff fetched the mayor, who arrived shortly thereafter.
After the obligatory introductions, Davy Crockett stepped up onto the walkway and began an impromptu speech. “Folks, my companions and I have travelled all the way from Tennessee to join up and fight for Texas! I have the honor of reporting to you that when I announced my intentions in Tennessee to come here, there arose a natural reaction so profound that I was obliged to say in response – You can all go to hell, and I will go to Texas!” and he evoked this last jokingly, as evidenced by the gregarious smile on his face.
One man let out a whoop, and then the whole crowd erupted as one. “Hoorah! Hooray for Texas! Hooray for Davy Crockett!” And so it went.
When the whooping had died down, the mayor stepped forward and announced, “Folks, I have been empowered by the government of Texas to administer the oath of allegiance to volunteers for the Army of Texas. So now I ask you men to raise your right hands.” At this Crockett’s companions did so, but Nate had somehow been swept into the mass of Tennesseans. The mayor now pointed to Nate and inquired pointedly, “You, sir, do I know you?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Mayor. I’m Nate Tucker. Work at the saw mill.”
“Ah, yes, I recall now. Are you a part of this group of volunteers?”
Before Nate could say anything at all, Davy Crockett announced for the entire group to hear, “Why, of course he is! He is our kinsman from Kentucky!” at which the crowd exclaimed their approval yet again. Subjected to such public scrutiny, Nate felt that he had no choice but to go along, so he raised his right hand. Within seconds, he had to his surprise been sworn into the Volunteer Army of Texas.
There was much ballyhooing and back slapping, in the midst of which Hank wondered to himself just how all of this had transpired. Less than an hour earlier he had been sitting sunning himself on a lovely Sunday morning together with his friend and confidant Mephistopheles, and now he was a sworn military man. Still, In the midst of the hubbub, he had to admit to himself that he liked the notion. Heck, he thought to himself, he might even become a hero of Texas. He felt in his pocket for Mephistopheles. Sure enough, he was still there, somehow bringing certainty to Nate of the rightness of it all.
Bastrop-January
Auggey threw the stick and, as if desperate to set a new world record, Jackson went tearing after it yet again. It was a fine day. A sunny warmth cascaded over the field, a welcome change from the previous week, when snow had chilled the folks in Bastrop to the bone. Auggey had struggled to get the cows into the barn when the storm had struck, and with luck he had saved them all. In the event, they had lost only three chickens.
“Those birds were so dumb, they didn’t have the sense to come in out of the storm,” he thought to himself. Still, it hadn’t been all bad. After the storm, he’d found them, still frozen, not a hundred yards from the cabin. Maw had made a delicious chicken stew from them, a stew that had lasted for close on to a week.
Jackson came trotting up with the stick, and Auggey suddenly caught a glint of sunlight, like a reflection on metal, some unexpected movement off to the east.
Within the House
Julie MacElrae sat gazing at the fire in the small stone fireplace. Christmas had come and gone, they were well into the new year, and still there was no sign of Hank. There had been one letter, but that was it. All she knew was that he had been at San Antonio when the Texians had defeated the Mexican Army and sent them packing. Why hadn’t Hank come home? So many other locals had returned to Bastrop.
At first it had appeared that the Texians had won outright, and that Hank would be home by Christmas as promised. But now things seemed to be going the other way. Sheriff Green had said there were rumors an army was coming north from Mexico. Even worse, the rumor was it was led by none other than Santa Anna. Some folks were saying that the encroaching Mexican Army would number in the thousands.
Julie was downright scared. Hank had left her with a present. The baby inside her was now more than three months along. At this point it still didn’t show much. She could hide it for a while yet with the bulkiness of her winter dress. But she had to find Hank! She loved him dearly, but she’d never trusted his judgment. He had that thing that all men seemed to have – a lack of good sense that made him seek out the worst possible solution. What was going on down there in Bexar and Gonzales? Very soon she would have to go find him and bring him home.
Suddenly, the door burst open and, Auggey rushing in, he exclaimed furtively, “Indians! Maw, there’s Indians coming! They’re riding in from the west!”
At this Julie raced to the window and, peaking between the boards, she exclaimed furtively, “Are you sure, Auggey? I don’t see a thing!”
“Trust me, Maw. You know I got super good vision,” Auggey said breathlessly.
“How far off are they, Auggey?”
“Maybe three quarters of a mile. There’s four of them. What’re we gonna do? Hadn’t we better get out of here?”
“Too late, Auggey. They’d be on us before we could get a half mile.” She figured they had less than five minutes before the heathens were on top of them. She’d heard in town that the Comanches were getting bold of late. Folks were saying it was because so many of the men had gone off to fight in the war. The Indians probably thought they had easy pickings. Julie figured they’d be aware that Hank was gone, that there was no man about. She just hoped that they hadn’t seen her from the woods in the last few days.
She hurried over to the fire and grabbed the poker. She quenched it quickly and then turned the other end into the fire. She counted to ten and tugged it from the fire. She quickly jabbed her left hand with the end, once, twice, three times in different places. “What the…Maw, what are you doin’?” Auggey asked frantically. “You’re gonna hurt yourself bad!”
Julie jabbed the poker back into the fire and, continuing this process, she jabbed her right hand. “Listen, Auggey, they’ll catch us, and they’ll either take us or kill us. Either way amounts to the same thing. We got one chance, and that’s to make them think I have the pox.” She stuck the poker back into the fire, and this time she used it to jab her face several times. Then she grabbed a piece of burned wood and dabbed black onto the tops of the red splotches. Using a small remainder, she made faint black streaks on her cheeks. She subsequently messed her hair up and, pouring water on it, she made it into a tangled mess. Grabbing a pillow from the bed, she pulled it up under her skirt, thereby gaining twenty pounds at a glance. Within the space of seconds she had gone from looking healthy to deathly ill.
At that moment she heard the sound of horses outside the cabin. She grabbed the rifle, handed it to Auggey, and instructed, “Get over there behind the table Auggey, and don’t you move one inch, you hear? No matter what you hear from outside, don’t you go out that door. And don’t be using that rifle except to protect your own self!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Auggey replied softly. He then tugged the table over on its side and scrambled behind it.
Julie unbolted the door, staggered outside, and fell to her knees. “Help us!” she cried. She fell to her face and then rolled over on her back. “Help us! We got the pox. Please, help us,” she whimpered, and pulling her knees to her chest, she writhed in feigned pain and misery.
The lead Indian jerked his horse backwards and emitted a loud whoop, at which his companions recoiled in revulsion. The leader peered at Julie for a moment, and Julie could see that he had a huge hump on his back. The site of this enormous warrior was at once revolting and terrifying to her, making her feigned illness seem all the more real.
He said something unintelligible to the other three and then yanked mightily on his reins, at which his horse turned and ran full speed for the woods. The others followed at a gallop.
At her entrance Auggey exclaimed in admiration, “Maw, where’d you learn to do that? That was amazing!”
“Learned it from my daddy, but he didn’t know no Comanches. We had Choctaw back home. Had it on my mind ever since your paw left, but I sure hoped I’d never have to try it out. Seems to have worked, but we can’t be hangin’ around here to wait and see. They might start thinkin’ we fooled ‘em. They might even be in the woods right now a watchin’, so we best be gettin’ into town where it’s safe. Get the wagon ready, Auggey, we’re gettin’ out of here!”
“Does it hurt, maw, them red spots?”
“You better believe it hurts, Auggey, but that’s why I only heated that poker for ten counts. I’ll get some salve for it when we get to town, and it’ll heal fine, I ‘spect.”
Two hours later they arrived in town, where Sheriff Green took their report and put them up at his house. Sheriff Green took a group of riders back to the cabin to check up on things, and they brought Julie’s and Hank’s valuables into town for safe keeping.
On the first of February Julie and Auggey loaded up the wagon with supplies. Julie took her rifle, helped Auggey up to the buckboard, and the pair set off in search of Hank.
“You sure you want to go and be doin’ this, Ms. MacElrae?” Sheriff Green asked, scratching his bare head as he squinted up at her into the morning sunlight. “You’re a darn sure fine lookin’ woman, and it bein’ still winter an’ all, I don’t feel good about you headin’ south just now.”
She knew she was attractive to men, and she knew where that could lead to out on the open frontier. She considered that a risk worth taking given her state. “Now you listen, Sheriff Green. We’re beholdin’ to you and your wife for takin’ care of us these last few days, but we’ll be fine. We can’t go back home, so we’re goin’ south. Seems it’s safer goin’ that way than stayin’ here, where the Indians are stealin’ women and children.”
And off they went, heading south. As soon as they got out of town, Julie took her floppiest bonnet and covered as much of her face as possible. Then she rubbed mesquite soot into her skin and made her complexion as disgusting as possible. As a final act, she determined to walk with a limp, thenceforth makin’ out like she had a club foot.
Over the next few days it turned a bit warmer. The roads dried out, and she reckoned that the wagon could make it to Gonzales. Sheriff Green had given her enough to go on so that she was confident that she could find Gonzales, although locating Hank was another matter entirely. She had thought on it for several months now, and it didn’t seem to make any sense to just wait around any longer. Hank was weak minded at times, and he needed prodding to get him going. Julie figured that he might just be sitting tight in Gonzales, just waiting out the winter. If that was so, Julie knew what to do.
Julie figured Gonzales was two days ride in the wagon. She figured wrong. First of all, the roads weren’t as good as she’d expected. More importantly, she’d never had to handle a wagon for twelve straight hours. It was hard work, and she was four months pregnant. By the end of the third day, she figured she’d only made it about half way there.
Julie and Auggey met a few people along the way, and to her relief, they all seemed friendly. Her disguise seemed to have them all fooled. They were none too interested in getting overly friendly. People seemed to be going both ways. Some were headed north, thinking to escape the coming war, but plenty were headed south, apparently intent on joining up. She counted a total of nine men headed south in groups of two or three in those three days. Most were going to Gonzales, and although a couple of them offered to help Auggey and her out, she declined, saying they were doing just fine. But they really weren’t. She was just real worried about traveling with strangers.
On the morning of the fourth day, just as she and Auggey were crossing a dry creek bed, a group of five men rode up on horseback. They were led by a large man who somehow stood out from the others. He was dressed incongruously in a suit coat over a shirt and pants made from animal skins.
“How do, ma’am,” he called from the opposite bank of the creek. As he did so, he smiled broadly and removed his ‘coon skin hat in a flowing gesture, adding politely, “May we be of assistance to you?” His southern drawl was clear and musical, causing him to appear even more stately to Julie.
Staring wide-eyed as if he’d seen an apparition, Auggey whispered, “Who is that man, maw?”
“Don’t know son, but I believe that providence has answered my prayer. It is indeed a happy sight to see such a group of fine looking men.” Turning towards the party on the opposite bank, she replied loudly, “Sir, we are making our way to Gonzales. Where might you and your party be heading?”
“What a fine coincidence, ma’am. We are also headed to Gonzales. May we accompany you there?”
“Why, we would consider it a great pleasure to travel with such a fine looking group as yourselves. Please cross over here and join us if you will!”
At Julie’s invitation, the entire party crossed the creek bed and joined Auggey and her on the opposite bank. As they rode up, the tall man led, and pulling his horse up right beside the wagon, he dismounted. He made a sweeping bow with his ‘coon skin cap and announced, “Ma’am, the honorable Davy Crockett at your service. These here are my friends from Tennessee. We headed south to join the fight for freedom!”
At his introduction Julie blurted, “Well, I declare. I know you, Mr. Crockett. Everybody knows you!” and then she blushed bright red.
The men surrounding Crockett all laughed chuckled, at which Julie blushed even more. Still, she realized that she and Auggey were safe now and, tugging her bonnet off, she let her long blonde tresses flow freely. With the sleeve of her blouse she wiped the soot from her face and announced precipitously, “Sir, I am Julie MacElrae from Bastrop, wife of Hank MacElrae, soldier in The Volunteer Army of Texas. This is my son, Auggey.”
Shocked by such an amazing display, Davy exclaimed, “Why, may I say, you are a fine lookin’ woman, Mrs. MacElrae, and I am inclined to think a smart one, too, given your almost instantaneous and entrancing transformation. These are terrible times, and what with all manner of outlaws about, it is wise of you to travel well-disguised.”
Jumping up and down in the back of the wagon, Auggey simply couldn’t contain himself. “Davy Crockett! Wait till Paw hears about this!” and so saying, Auggey drew himself up full height and jumped onto Crockett’s horse and started kicking like he was going to ride off. Davy just laughed, his companions chuckling at the unlikely sight before them.
“Now you git down off that man’s horse, Auggey, you hear me? You just wait till I get my hands on you. Do you hear me? You git down right this minute, Auggey MacElrae!” she instructed in a vain attempt at sternness, but by now even she was sprouting a smile.
“Oh, he’s fine ma’am,” said Crockett pleasantly. “I ‘spect Hannibal here don’t mind a pup named Auggey on his back near as much as me!” and at that the whole group guffawed yet again.
“Hey, Maw, look at this!” Auggey proclaimed, holding up a knife the size of a small sword. “Look what Davy Crockett carries in his saddle!”
Crockett smiled up at the youngster and, still smiling, he suggested politely, “Son, better turn that blade over to me now. Wouldn’t want you hurtin’ yourself. But tell you what, I’ll show you how to sharpen it tonight when we make camp.”
Auggey frowned in dismay and regretfully turned the knife over to Crockett. He then blurted, “Hey mom, did you hear that? Davy Crockett’s gonna get his knife sharpened by Auggey MacElrae!” and it was clear that Auggey was entirely proud of himself. Having accomplished his objective, he hopped down from the horse, certain that he had made a new friend, and a famous one at that.
&n
bsp; Elsewhere Within the Group
Nate Tucker had felt more than a little uncomfortable with this band of Tennesseans ever since they had left Nacogdoches. They were friendly enough, but they were real rough men. Nate didn’t have the stomach for their way of doing things. They had made it a game when they killed a rabbit or a turkey, chasing it down as if they were playing with it. Since Nate didn’t care for that, he kept Mephistopheles in his pocket. He didn’t expect they’d harm him, he just didn’t think they’d understand such an unusual friendship.
Crockett had turned the ride south into a sort of tour of Texas. Instead of heading straight for Goliad or Bexar, where the volunteer army was concentrated, he had decided to wander down to San Felipe, seeing as many folks along the way as he could. Nate hadn’t minded at all, being in no hurry himself to engage the enemy, but he was surprised that half of Crockett’s Tennessee boys had deemed the pace too slow. They had ridden on ahead in order to reach the fighting as quickly as possible. It had been just as well, as Nate had not been too sure how he felt about this rough and tumble bunch. Secretly, he wanted to detach himself completely from this hair-brained expedition, but he couldn’t figure out just exactly how to accomplish such an undertaking.
In the midst of all this discomfort, when Crockett’s men had joined up with the woman and her boy, Nate had secretly thought that here might be a friend. He waited for his chance, and it came soon thereafter. When the group stopped for a break that afternoon, Auggey wandered off the trail to relieve himself, and Nate followed him into the bush. He took the opportunity afforded to speak to Auggey, as men sometimes do when they are doing their business out in the wilds.
Seeing his opportunity, Nate called out, “Hey, there, Auggey. This here is Nate, Nate Tucker. I’m off here to your right.” Nate paused for a moment and, hearing no response, he suggested cautiously, “Just want you to know in case you’re thinking I’m an Indian. Don’t want to get shot out here by a true Texian such as yourself.”
At this ludicrous outburst, Auggey giggled, and noting the humor in Nate’s voice, he came scampering out of the bush. Still in the act of pulling up his pants, he snorted facetiously, “Good thing you told me so, Mr. Nate. I was sure you was a buffalo!”
“A buffalo!” Nate chortled, “Why, I’ll be horse whipped. I ‘spect there ain’t no buffaloes within a hunderd miles of here!”
Tickled at Nate’s gullibility, Auggey laughed again, adding humorously, “Well then, it musta been the smell. You been buffalo hunting lately?”
Realizing that he was bein’ funned by the youngster, Nate conjured up a guffaw of his own. “Alright, you got me there, Aug. Hey, speakin’ of wild game - want to see a live wild animal up close?”
Appearing doubtful, Auggey responded, “What, you got one?”
“Why, yes, son, as a matter of fact I do.”
At this Auggey looked even more doubtful and, his expression changing to one of puzzlement, he volunteered, “Sure!”
Nate tugged Mephistopheles from his pocket and announced, “This here is my friend and confidant Mephistopheles. Mephistopheles, this here is my new friend Auggey MacElrae,” and having completed the introductions, he presented Auggey with the critter.
Having seen many a horny toad since moving to Texas, Augey was not particularly impressed, but he nonetheless determined to examine it up close. “Wow. Where’d you get him?”
“Befriended him up in Nacogdoches one fine day,” Nate replied.
“What did you say his name was?”
“Mephistopheles.”
“That’s a real big name for such a small critter, I should think,” Auggey opined sagely.
“Yeah, but them horns demands such a name, don’t they!”
“Why?”
“Mephistopheles means the devil.”
“Oh,” Auggey responded diffidently, but he still wasn’t quite sure why Nate didn’t just call him something simple like Jackson. “Jackson, Jackson,” he called out. “Here boy, come look at the toad!” at which Jackson came bounding from the bushes at a dead run.
Apparently he too wanted to see what the excitement was, but Nate stuffed Mephistopheles back in his pocket quicker than lightening, saying, “Naw, better not try that. Mephistopheles gets nervous around strangers. Besides, Jackson here might be hungry.”
Auggey guffawed at that and blubbered derisively, “Jackson is real playful, but he don’t take to eatin’ critters. He likes red meat. Your toad is safer’n a mole down a hole.”
“I believe you, Auggey, but all the same, I think Mephistopheles needs a nap now.”
“Can I see him later?”
“Sure, ‘round supper time, but let Jackson go chase some squirrels or somethin’.”
“Alright, that’s a deal, Nate,” and off they went on down the trail. Nate was in desperate need of a friend, and now he felt like he had one in Auggey. And to think, it was ol’ Mephistopheles that had given him just the opening he’d needed.
The going to Gonzales was still tough, but the escort provided by Crockett’s men from Tennessee settled Julie’s stomach considerably, the entire party arriving in Gonzales without further incident.
Hawk Banks - Founding Texas Page 14