He stopped suddenly when he heard a low whistle in front of him. While it could be heard but a short distance, it was singularly sweet. It formed the first bars of an old tune, “The World Turned Upside Down,” and Ned promptly recognized it. The whistle stopped in a moment or two, but Ned took up the air and continued it for a few bars more. Then, all apprehension gone, he sprang out of the arroyo and stood upon the bank. Another figure was projected from the arroyo and stood upon the bank facing him, not more than twenty feet away.
Simultaneously Obed White and Edward Fulton advanced, shook hands and laughed.
“You kept me here waiting in this gully at least half an hour,” said Obed. “Time and I waited long on you.”
“But no longer than I waited on you,” said Ned. “Why didn’t you think of whistling the tune sooner?”
“Why didn’t you?”
They laughed and shook hands again.
“At any rate, we’re here together again, safe and unharmed,” said Ned. “And now to see what has become of the Panther.”
“You’d better be lookin’ out for yourselves instead of the Panther,” growled a voice, as a gigantic figure upheaved itself from the arroyo eight or ten yards behind them. “I could have picked you both off while you were standin’ there shakin’ hands, an’ neither of you would never have knowed what struck him.”
“The Panther!” they exclaimed joyously, and they shook hands with him also.
“An’ now,” said the Panther, “it will soon be day. We’d better make fur our horses an’ then clear out. We kin tell ’bout what we’ve seen an’ done when we’re two or three miles away.”
They found the horses safe in the brushwood, Old Jack welcoming Ned with a soft whinny. They were in the saddle at once, rode swiftly northward, and none of them spoke for a half hour. When a faint tinge of gray appeared on the eastern rim of the world the Panther said:
“My tale’s short. I couldn’t get into the camp, ’cause I’m too big. The very first fellow I saw looked at me with s’picion painted all over him. So I had to keep back in the darkness. But I saw it was a mighty big army. It can do a lot of rippin’, an’ t’arin’, an’ chawin’.”
“I got into the camp,” said Obed, after a minute of silence, “but as I’m not built much like a Mexican, being eight or ten inches too tall, men were looking at me as if I were a strange specimen. One touch of difference and all the world’s staring at you. So I concluded that I’d better stay on the outside of the lines. I hung around, and I saw just what Panther saw, no more and no less. Then I started back and I struck the arroyo, which seemed to me a good way for leaving. But before I had gone far I concluded I was followed. So I watched the fellow who was following, and the fellow who was following watched me for about a year. The watch was just over when you came up, Panther. It was long, but it’s a long watch that has no ending.”
“And I,” said Ned, after another wait of a minute, “being neither so tall as Obed nor so big around as the Panther, was able to go about in the Mexican camp without any notice being taken of me. I saw Santa Anna arrive to take the chief command.”
“Santa Anna himself?” exclaimed the Panther.
“Yes, Santa Anna himself. They gave him a great reception. After a while I started to come away. I met Urrea. He took me for a peon, gave me an order, and when I didn’t obey it tried to strike me across the face with a whip.”
“And what did you do?” exclaimed the two men together.
“I took the whip away from him and lashed his cheeks with it. I was recognized, but in the turmoil and confusion I escaped. Then I had the encounter with Obed White, of which he has told already.”
“Since Santa Anna has come,” said the Panther, “they’re likely to move at any moment. We’ll ride straight for the cabin an’ the boys.”
CHAPTER VI
FOR FREEDOM’S SAKE
Evidently the horses had found considerable grass through the night, as they were fresh and strong, and the miles fell fast behind them. At the gait at which they were going they would reach the cabin that night. Meanwhile they made plans. The little force would divide and messengers would go to San Antonio, Harrisburg and other points, with the news that Santa Anna was advancing with an immense force.
And every one of the three knew that the need was great. They knew how divided counsels had scattered the little Texan army. At San Antonio, the most important point of all, the town that they had triumphantly taken from a much greater force of Mexicans, there were practically no men, and that undoubtedly was Santa Anna’s destination. Unconsciously they began to urge their horses to great and yet greater speed, until the Panther recalled them to prudence.
“Slower, boys! slower!” he said. “We mustn’t run our horses out at the start.”
“And there’s a second reason for pulling down,” said Ned, “since there’s somebody else on the plain.”
His uncommon eyesight had already detected before the others the strange presence. He pointed toward the East.
“Do you see that black speck there, where the sky touches the ground?” he said. “If you’ll watch it you’ll see that it’s moving. And look! There’s another! and another! and another!”
The Panther and Obed now saw the black specks also. The three stopped on the crest of a swell and watched them attentively.
“One! two! three! four! five! six! seven! eight! nine! ten! eleven! twelve! thirteen!” counted the far-sighted boy.
“An’ them thirteen specks are thirteen men on horseback,” continued the Panther, “an’ now I wonder who in the name of the great horn spoon they are!”
“Suppose we see,” said Obed. “All things are revealed to him who looks—at least most of the time. It is true that they are more than four to our one, but our horses are swift, and we can get away.”
“That’s right,” said the Panther. “Still, we oughtn’t to take the risk unless everybody is willin’. What do you say, Ned?”
“I reply ‘yes,’ of course,” said the boy, “especially as I’ve an idea that those are not Mexicans. They look too big and tall, and they sit too straight up in their saddles for Mexicans.”
“Them ideas of yours are ketchin’,” said the Panther. “Them fellers may be Mexicans, but they don’t look like Mexicans, they don’t act like Mexicans, an’ they ain’t Mexicans.”
“Take out what isn’t, and you have left what is,” said Obed.
“We’ll soon see,” said Ned.
A few minutes more and there could be no further doubt that the thirteen were Texans or Americans. One rode a little ahead of the others, who came on in an even line. They were mounted on large horses, but the man in front held Ned’s attention.
The leader was tall and thin, but evidently muscular and powerful. His hair was straight and black like an Indian’s. His features were angular and tanned by the winds of many years. His body was clothed completely in buckskin, and a raccoon skin cap was on his head. Across his shoulder lay a rifle with a barrel of unusual length.
“Never saw any of them before,” said the Panther. “By the great horn spoon, who can that feller in front be? He looks like somebody.”
The little band rode closer, and its leader held up his hand as a sign of amity.
“Good friends,” he said, in a deep clear voice, “we don’t have very close neighbors out here, and that makes a meeting all the pleasanter. You are Texans, I guess.”
“You guess right,” said the Panther, in the same friendly tone. “An’ are you Texans, too?”
“That point might be debated,” replied the man, in a whimsical tone, “and after a long dispute neither I nor my partners here could say which was right and which was wrong. But while we may not be Texans, yet we will be right away.”
His eyes twinkled as he spoke, and Ned suddenly felt a strong liking for him. He was not young and, despite his buckskin dress and careless grammar, there was something of the man of the world about him. But he seemed to have a certain boyishness of sp
irit that appealed strongly to Ned.
“I s’pose,” he continued, “that a baptism will make us genuine Texans, an’ it ’pears likely to me that we’ll get that most lastin’ of all baptisms, a baptism of fire. But me an’ Betsy here stand ready for it.”
He patted lovingly the stock of his long rifle as he spoke the word “Betsy.” It was the same word “Betsy” that gave Ned his sudden knowledge.
“I’m thinking that you are Davy Crockett,” he said.
The man’s face was illumined with an inimitable smile.
“Correct,” he said. “No more and no less. Andy Jackson kept me from going back to Washington, an’ so me an’ these twelve good friends of mine, Tennesseans like myself, have come here to help free Texas.”
He reached out his hand and Ned grasped it. The boy felt a thrill. The name of Davy Crockett was a great one in the southwest, and here he was, face to face, hands gripped with the great borderer.
“This is Mr. Palmer, known all over Texas as the Panther, and Mr. Obed White, once of Maine, but now a Texan,” said Ned, introducing his friends.
Crockett and the Panther shook hands, and looked each other squarely in the eye.
“Seems to me,” said Crockett, “that you’re a man.”
“I was jest thinkin’ the same of you,” said the Panther.
“An’ you,” said Crockett to Obed White, “are a man, too. But they certainly do grow tall where you come from.”
“I’m not as wide as a barn door, but I may be long enough to reach the bottom of a well,” said Obed modestly. “Anyway, I thank you for the compliment. Praise from Sir Davy is sweet music in my ear, indeed. And since we Texans have to stand together, and since to stand together we must know about one another, may I ask you, Mr. Crockett, which way you are going?”
“We had an idea that we would go to San Antonio,” said Crockett, “but I’m never above changin’ my opinion. If you think it better to go somewhere else, an’ can prove it, why me an’ Betsy an’ the whole crowd are ready to go there instead.”
“What would you say?” asked the Panther, “if we told you that Santa Anna an’ 7,000 men were on the Rio Grande ready to march on San Antonio?”
“If you said it, I’d say it was true. I’d also say that it was a thing the Texans had better consider. If I was usin’ adjectives I’d call it alarmin’.”
“An’ what would you say if I told you there wasn’t a hundred Texan soldiers in San Antonio to meet them seven thousand Mexicans comin’ under Santa Anna?”
“If you told me that I’d say it was true. I’d say also, if I was usin’ adjectives, that it was powerful alarmin’. For Heaven’s sake, Mr. Panther, the state of affairs ain’t so bad as that, is it?”
“It certainly is,” replied the Panther. “Ned Fulton here was all through their camp last night. He can talk Mexican an’ Spanish like lightnin’ an’ he makes up wonderful—an’ he saw their whole army. He saw old Santa Anna, too, an’ fifty or a hundred generals, all covered with gold lace. If we don’t get a lot of fightin’ men together an’ get ’em quick, Texas will be swept clean by that Mexican army same as if a field had been crossed by millions of locusts.”
It was obvious that Crockett was impressed deeply by these blunt statements.
“What do you wish us to do?” he asked the Panther.
“You an’ your friends come with us. We’ve got some good men at a cabin in the woods that we can reach to-night. We’ll join with them, raise as many more as we can, spread the alarm everywhere, an’ do everything possible for the defence of San Antonio.”
“A good plan, Mr. Panther,” said Crocket. “You lead the way to this cabin of yours, an’ remember that we’re servin’ under you for the time bein’.”
The Panther rode on without another word and the party, now raised from three to sixteen, followed. Crockett fell in by the side of Ned, and soon showed that he was not averse to talking.
“A good country,” he said, nodding at the landscape, “but it ain’t like Tennessee. It would take me a long time to git used to the lack of hills an’ runnin’ water an’ trees which just cover the state of Tennessee.”
“We have them here, too,” replied Ned, “though I’ll admit they’re scattered. But it’s a grand country to fight for.”
“An’ as I see it we’ll have a grand lot of fightin’ to do,” said Davy Crockett.
They continued at good speed until twilight, when they rested their horses and ate of the food that they carried. The night promised to be cold but clear, and the crisp air quickened their blood.
“How much further is it?” asked Crockett of Ned.
“Fifteen or eighteen miles, but at the rate we’re going we should be there in three hours. We’ve got a roof. It isn’t a big one, and we don’t know who built it, but it will shelter us all.”
“I ain’t complainin’ of that,” rejoined Davy Crockett. “I’m a lover of fresh air an’ outdoors, but I don’t object to a roof in cold weather. Always take your comfort, boy, when it’s offered to you. It saves wear an’ tear.”
A friendship like that between him and Bowie was established already between Ned and Crockett. Ned’s grave and serious manner, the result of the sufferings through which he had gone, invariably attracted the attention and liking of those far older than himself.
“I’ll remember your advice, Mr. Crockett,” he said.
A rest of a half hour for the horses and they started riding rapidly. After a while they struck the belt of forest and soon the cabin was not more than a mile away. But the Panther, who was still in the lead, pulled up his horse suddenly.
“Boys,” he exclaimed, “did you hear that?”
Every man stopped his horse also and with involuntary motion bent forward a little to listen. Then the sound that the Panther had heard came again. It was the faint ping of a rifle shot, muffled by the distance. In a moment they heard another and then two more. The sounds came from the direction of their cabin.
“The boys are attacked,” said the Panther calmly, “an’ it’s just as well that we’ve come fast. But I can’t think who is after ’em. There was certainly no Mexicans in these parts yesterday, an’ Urrea could not possibly have got ahead of us with a raidin’ band. But at any rate we’ll ride on an’ soon see.”
They proceeded with the utmost caution, and they heard the faint ping of the rifles a half dozen times as they advanced. The nostrils of the Panther began to distend, and streaks of red appeared on his eyeballs. He was smelling the battle afar, and his soul rejoiced. He had spent his whole life amid scenes of danger, and this was nature to him. Crockett rode up by his side, and he, too, listened eagerly. He no longer carried Betsy over his shoulder but held the long rifle across the pommel of his saddle, his hand upon hammer and trigger.
“What do you think it is, Panther?” he asked. Already he had fallen into the easy familiarity of the frontier.
“I can’t make it out yet,” replied the Panther, “but them shots shorely came from the cabin an’ places about it. Our fellows are besieged, but I’ve got to guess at the besiegers, an’ then I’m likely to guess wrong.”
They were riding very slowly, and presently they heard a dozen shots, coming very clearly now.
“I think we’d better stop here,” said the Panther, “an’ do a little scoutin’. If you like it, Mr. Crockett, you an’ me an’ Ned, here, will dismount, slip forward an’ see what’s the trouble. Obed will take Command of the others, an’ wait in the bushes till we come back with the news, whatever it is.”
“I’ll go with you gladly,” said Davy Crockett. “I’m not lookin’ for trouble with a microscope, but if trouble gets right in my path I’m not dodgin’ it. So I say once more, lead on, noble Mr. Panther, an’ if Betsy here must talk she’ll talk.”
The Panther grinned in the dusk. He and Davy Crockett had instantly recognized congenial souls, each in the other.
“I can’t promise you that thar’ll be rippin’ an’ t’arin’ an’ roarin�
�� an’ chawin’ all the time,” he said, “but between you an’ me, Davy Crockett, I’ve an’ idee that we’re not goin’ to any sort of prayer meetin’ this time of night.”
“No, I’m thinkin’ not,” said Crockett, “but if there is a scene of turbulence before us lead on. I’m prepared for my share in it. The debate may be lively, but I’ve no doubt that I’ll get my chance to speak. There are many ways to attract the attention of the Speaker. Pardon me, Mr. Panther, but I fall naturally into the phrases of legislative halls.”
“I remember that you served two terms in Congress at Washington,” said the Panther.
“An’ I’d be there yet if it wasn’t for Andy Jackson. I wanted my way in Tennessee politics an’ he wanted his. He was so stubborn an’ headstrong that here I am ready to become a statesman in this new Texas which is fightin’ for its independence. An’ what a change! From marble halls in Washington to a night in the brush on the frontier, an’ with an unknown enemy before you.”
They stopped talking now and, kneeling down in a thicket, began to creep forward. The cabin was not more than four or five hundred yards away, but a long silence had succeeded the latest shots, and after an advance of thirty or forty yards they lay still for a while. Then they heard two shots ahead of them, and saw little pink dots of flame from the exploding gunpowder.
“It cannot be Mexicans who are besieging the cabin,” said Ned. “They would shout or make some kind of a noise. We have not heard a thing but the rifle shots.”
“Your argyment is good,” whispered the Panther. “Look! Did you see that figure passin’ between us an’ the cabin?”
The Second Western Megapack Page 62