THE TEXAN SCOUTS
A Story of the Alamo and Goliad
by Joseph A. Altsheler
Ned had not noticed at first, but, since his eyes were growing used to the dim light, and since the Panther had pointed
the way, he saw a dozen men, arms bound tightly behind them, leaning against the trees. They were prisoners and he knew instinctively
that they were Texans. His blood, hot at first, now chilled in his veins. They had been captured by Urrea in a raid, and as
Santa Anna had decreed that all Texans were rebels who should be executed when taken, they would surely die, unless rescue
"What shall we do?" he whispered.
"Nothing now," replied the Panther, in the same soft tone, "but if you an' Obed are with me we'll follow this crowd, an'
maybe we can get the Texans away from 'em. It's likely that Urrea will cross the Rio Grande an' go down into Mexico to meet
Cos or Santa Anna. Are you game enough to go, Ned? I'm a Ring Tailed Panther an' a roarin' grizzly bear, but I don't like
to follow all by myself."
"I'm with you," said Ned, "if I have to go all the way back to the City of Mexico, an' I know that I can speak for Obed,
"I jest asked as a matter of form," said the Panther. "I knowed before askin' that you an' Obed would stick to me."
There was a sudden gust of wind at that moment and the light of the fire sprang higher. The flames threw a glow across
the faces of the prisoners. Most of them were asleep, but Ned saw them very distinctly now. One was a boy but little older
than himself, his face pale and worn. Near him was an old man, with a face very uncommon on the border. His features were
those of a scholar and ascetic. His cheeks were thin, and thick white hair crowned a broad white brow. Ned felt instinctively
that he was a man of importance.
Both the boy and the man slept the sleep of utter exhaustion.
Urrea rose presently and looked at his prisoners. The moonlight was shining on his face, and it seemed to Ned to be that
of some master demon. The boy was far from denying many good qualities to the Mexicans, but the countenance of Urrea certainly
did not express any of them that night. It showed only savage exultation as he looked at the bound men, and Ned knew that
this was a formidable enemy of the Texans, one who would bring infinite resources of cunning and enterprise to crush them.
Urrea said a few words to his officers and then withdrew into a small tent which Ned had not noticed hitherto. The officers
lay down in their blankets, but a dozen sentinels watched about the open space. Ned and the Panther crept slowly back toward
"What is our best plan, Panther?" whispered the boy.
"We can't do anything yet but haul off, watch an' then follow. The chaparral runs along for a mile or two an' we can hide
in the north end of it until they march south an' are out of sight. Then we'll hang on."
They found Obed standing exactly where they had left him, the reins of the three horses in his hands.
"Back at last," he said. "All things come to him who waits long enough, if he doesn't die first. Did you see anything besides
a lot of Mexican vaqueros, fuddled with liquor and sound asleep?"
"We did not see any vaqueros," replied the Panther, "but we saw Urrea an' his band, an' they had among them a dozen good
Texans bound fast, men who will be shot if we three don't stand in the way. You have to follow with us, Obed, because Ned
has already promised for you."
The Maine man looked at them and smiled.
"A terribly good mind reader, that boy, Ned," he said. "He knew exactly what I wanted. There's a lot of things in the world
that I'd like to do, but the one that I want to do most just now is to follow Urrea and that crowd of his and take away those
Texans. You two couldn't keep me from going."
The Panther smiled back.
"You are shorely the right stuff, Obed White," he said. "We're only three in this bunch, but two of 'em besides me are
ring-tailed panthers. Now we'll just draw off, before it's day, an' hide in the chaparral up there."
They rode a mile to the north and remained among dense bushes until daylight. At dawn they saw a column of smoke rise from
"They are cookin' breakfast now," said the Panther. "It's my guess that in an hour they'll be ridin' south with their prisoners."
The column of smoke sank after a while, and a couple of hours later the three left the chaparral. From one of the summits
they dimly saw a mass of horsemen riding toward Mexico.
"There's our men," said the Panther, "an' now we'll follow all day at this good, safe distance. At night we can draw up closer if we want to do it."
The Mexicans maintained a steady pace, and the three pursuers followed at a distance of perhaps two miles. Now and then
the swells completely shut Urrea's band from sight, but Ned, Obed and the Panther followed the broad trail without the slightest
"They'll reach the river before noon," said the Panther. "There ain't any doubt now that they're bound for Mexico. It's
jest as well for what we want to do, 'cause they're likely to be less watchful there than they are in Texas."
The band of Urrea, as nearly as they could judge, numbered about fifty, all mounted and armed well. The Mexicans were fine
horsemen, and with good training and leadership they were dangerous foes. The three knew them well, and they kept so far behind
that they were not likely to be observed.
It was only a half hour past noon when Urrea's men reached the Rio Grande, and without stopping made the crossing. They
avoided the quicksands with experienced eyes, and swam their horses through the deep water, the prisoners always kept in the
center of the troop. Ned, Obed and the Panther watched them until they passed out of sight. Then they, too, rode forward,
although slowly, toward the stream.
"We can't lose 'em," said the Panther, "so I think we'd better stay out of sight now that they're on real Mexican soil.
Maybe our chance will come to-night, an' ag'in maybe it won't."
"Patience will have its perfect rescue, if we only do the right things," said Obed.
"An' if we think hard enough an' long enough we're bound to do 'em, or I'm a Ring Tailed Panther an' a Cheerful Talker fur nothin'," said the Panther.
Waiting until they were certain that the Mexicans were five or six miles ahead, the three forded the Rio Grande, and stood
once more on Mexican soil. It gave Ned a curious thrill. He had passed through so much in Mexico that he had not believed
he would ever again enter that country. The land on the Mexican side was about the same as that on the Texan, but it seemed
different to him. He beheld again that aspect of infinite age, of the long weariness of time, and of physical decay.
They rode more briskly through the afternoon and at darkness saw the camp fires of Urrea glimmering ahead of them. But
the night was not favorable to their plans. The sky was the usual cloudless blue of the Mexican plateau, the moon was at the
full and all the stars were out. What they wanted was bad weather, hoping meanwhile the execution of the prisoners would not
be begun until the Mexicans reached higher authority than Urrea, perhaps Santa Anna himself.
They made their own camp a full two miles from Urrea's, and Obed and the Panther divided the watch.
Urrea started early the next morning, and so did the pursuing three. The dawn was gray, and the breeze was chill. As they
rode on, the wind rose and its edge became so sharp that there was a prospect of another Norther. The Panther unrolled from
his pack the most gorgeous serape that Ned had ever seen. It was of the finest material, colored a deep scarlet and it had
a gold fringe.
"Fine feathers are seen afar," said Obed.
"That's so," said the Panther, "but we're not coming near enough to the Mexicans for them to catch a glimpse of this, an'
such bein' the case I'm goin' to put it between me an' the cold. I'm proud of it, an' when I wrap it aroun' me I feel bigger an' stronger. Its red color helps me. I think I draw strength from red, just as I do from a fine,
tender buffalo steak."
He spoke with much earnestness, and the other two did not contradict him. Meanwhile he gracefully folded the great serape
about his shoulders, letting it fall to the saddle. No Mexican could have worn it more rakishly.
"That's my shield and protector," he said. "Now blow wind, blow snow, I'll keep warm."
It blew wind, but it did not blow snow. The day remained cold, but the air undoubtedly had a touch of damp.
"It may rain, and I'm sure the night will be dark," said Obed. "We may have our chance. Fortune favors those who help themselves."
The country became more broken, and the patches of scrub forest increased in number. Often the three rode quite near to
Urrea's men and observed them closely. The Mexicans were moving slowly, and, as the Americans had foreseen, discipline was
Near night drops of rain began to fall in their faces, and the sun set among clouds. The three rejoiced. A night, dark
and wet, had come sooner than they had hoped. Obed and Ned also took out serapes, and wrapped them around their shoulders.
They served now not only to protect their bodies, but to keep their firearms dry as well. Then they tethered their horses
among thorn bushes about a mile from Urrea's camp, and advanced on foot.
They saw the camp fire glimmering feebly through the night, and they advanced boldly. It was so dark now that a human figure
fifty feet away blended with the dusk, and the ground, softened by the rain, gave back no sound of footsteps. Nevertheless
they saw on their right a field which showed a few signs of cultivation, and they surmised that Urrea had made his camp at the lone hut
of some peon.
They reckoned right. They came to clumps of trees, and in an opening inclosed by them was a low adobe hut, from the open
door of which a light shone. They knew that Urrea and his officers had taken refuge there from the rain and cold and, under
the boughs of the trees or beside the fire, they saw the rest of the band sheltering themselves as best they could. The prisoners,
their hands bound, were in a group in the open, where the slow, cold rain fell steadily upon them. Ned's heart swelled with
rage at the sight.
Order and discipline seemed to be lacking. Men came and went as they pleased. Fully twenty of them were making a shelter
of canvas and thatch beside the hut. Others began to build the fire higher in order to fend off the wet and cold. Ned did
not see that the chance of a rescue was improved, but the Panther felt a sudden glow when his eyes alighted upon something
dark at the edge of the woods. A tiny shed stood there and his keen eyes marked what was beneath it.
"What do you think we'd better do, Panther?" asked Obed.
"No roarin' jest now. We mustn't raise our voices above whispers, but we'll go back in the brush and wait. In an hour or
two all these Mexicans will be asleep. Like as not the sentinels, if they post any, will be asleep first."
They withdrew deeper into the thickets, where they remained close together. They saw the fire die in the Mexican camp.
After a while all sounds there ceased, and again they crept near. The Panther was a genuine prophet, known and recognized
by his comrades. Urrea's men, having finished their shelters, were now asleep, including all the sentinels except two. There was some excuse for them.
They were in their own country, far from any Texan force of importance, and the night could scarcely have been worse. It was
very dark, and the cold rain fell with a steadiness and insistence that sought and finally found every opening in one's clothing.
Even the stalking three drew their serapes closer, and shivered a little.
The two sentinels who did not sleep were together on the south side of the glade. Evidently they wished the company of
each other. They were now some distance from the dark little shed toward which the Panther was leading his comrades, and their
whole energies were absorbed in an attempt to light two cigarritos, which would soothe and strengthen them as they kept their
rainy and useless watch.
The three completed the segment of the circle and reached the little shed which had become such an object of importance
to the Panther.
"Don't you see?" said the Panther, his grim joy showing in his tone.
They saw, and they shared his satisfaction. The Mexicans had stacked their rifles and muskets under the shed, where they
would be protected from the rain.
"It's queer what foolish things men do in war," said Obed. "Whom the gods would destroy they first deprive of the sense
of danger. They do not dream that Richard, meaning the Panther, is in the chaparral."
"If we approach this shed from the rear the sentinels, even if they look, will not be able to see us," said the Panther.
"By the great horn spoon, what an opportunity! I can hardly keep from roarin' an' ravin' about it. Now, boys, we'll take away their guns, swift an' quiet."
A few trips apiece and all the rifles and muskets with their ammunition were carried deep into the chaparral, where Obed,
gladly sacrificing his own comfort, covered them against the rain with his serape. Not a sign had come meanwhile from the
two sentinels on the far side of the camp. Ned once or twice saw the lighted ends of their cigarritos glowing like sparks
in the darkness, but the outlines of the men's figures were very dusky.
"An' now for the riskiest part of our job, the one that counts the most," said the Panther, "the one that will make everything
else a failure if it falls through. We've got to secure the prisoners."
The captives were lying under the boughs of some trees about twenty yards from the spot where the fire had been built.
The pitiless rain had beaten upon them, but as far as Ned could judge they had gone to sleep, doubtless through sheer exhaustion.
The Panther's plan of action was swift and comprehensive.
"Boys," he said, "I'm the best shot of us three. I don't say it in any spirit of boastin', 'cause I've pulled trigger about
every day for thirty years, an' more'n once a hundred times in one day. Now you two give me your rifles and I'll set here
in the edge of the bushes, then you go ahead as silent as you can an' cut the prisoners loose. If there's an alarm I'll open
fire with the three rifles and cover the escape."
Handing the rifles to the Panther, the two slipped forward. It was a grateful task to Ned. Again his heart swelled with
wrath as he saw the dark figures of the bound men lying on the ground in the rain. He remembered the one who was youthful
of face like himself and he sought him. As he approached he made out a figure lying in a strained position, and he was sure that it was the captive lad. A yard or two more and he knew absolutely. He touched
the boy on the shoulder, whispered in his ear that it was a friend, and, with one sweep of his knife, released his arms.
"Crawl to the chaparral there," said Ned, in swift sharp tones, pointing the way. "Another friend is waiting at that point."
The boy, without a word, began to creep forward in a stiff and awkward fashion. Ned turned to the next prisoner. It was
the elderly man whom he had seen from the chaparral, and he was wide awake, staring intently at Ned.
"Is it rescue?" he whispered. "Is it possible?"
"It is rescue. It is possible," replied Ned, in a similar whisper. "Turn a little to one side and I will cut the cords
that bind you."
The man turned, but when Ned freed him he whispered:
"You will have to help me. I cannot yet walk alone. Urrea has already given me a taste of what I was to expect."
Ned shuddered. There was a terrible significance in the prisoner's tone. He assisted him to rise partly, but the man staggered.
It was evident that he could not walk. He must help this man, but the others were waiting to be released also. Then the good
"Wait a moment," he said, and he cut the bonds of another man.
"Now you help your friend there," he said.
He saw the two going away together, and he turned to the others. He and Obed worked fast, and within five minutes the last
man was released. But as they crept back toward the chaparral the slack sentinels caught sight of the dusky figures retreating. Two musket shots were fired and there were rapid shouts in Mexican jargon. Ned and
Obed rose to their feet and, keeping the escaped prisoners before them, ran for the thickets.
A terrific reply to the Mexican alarm came from the forest. A volley of rifle and pistol shots was fired among the soldiers
as they sprang to their feet and a tremendous voice roared:
"At 'em, boys! At 'em! Charge 'em! Now is your time! Rip an' t'ar an' roar an' chaw! Don't let a single one escape! Sweep
the scum off the face of the earth!"
The Ring Tailed Panther had a mighty voice, issuing from a mighty throat. Never had he used it in greater volume or to
better purpose than on that night. The forest fairly thundered with the echoes of the battle cry, and as the dazed Mexicans
rushed for their guns only to find them gone, they thought that the whole Texan army was upon them. In another instant a new
terror struck at their hearts. Their horses and mules, driven in a frightful stampede, suddenly rushed into the glade and
they were now busy keeping themselves from being trampled to death.
Truly the Panther had spent well the few minutes allotted to him. He fired new shots, some into the frightened herd. His
tremendous voice never ceased for an instant to encourage his charging troops, and to roar out threats against the enemy.
Urrea, to his credit, made an attempt to organize his men, to stop the panic, and to see the nature of the enemy, but he was
borne away in the frantic mob of men and horses which was now rushing for the open plain.
Ned and Obed led the fugitives to the place where the rifles and muskets were stacked. Here they rapidly distributed the
weapons and then broke across the tree trunks all they could not use or carry. Another minute and they reached their horses, where the Panther, panting from his
huge exertions, joined them. Ned helped the lame man upon one of the horses, the weakest two who remained, including the boy,
were put upon the others, and led by the Panther they started northward, leaving the chaparral.
It was a singular march, but for a long time nothing was said. The sound of the Mexican stampede could yet be heard, moving
to the south, but they, rescuers and rescued, walked in silence save for the sound of their feet in the mud of the wind-swept
plain. Ned looked curiously at the faces of those whom they had saved, but the night had not lightened, and he could discern
nothing. They went thus a full quarter of an hour. The noise of the stampede sank away in the south, and then the Panther
It was a deep, hearty, unctuous laugh that came from the very depths of the man's chest. It was a laugh with no trace of
merely superficial joy. He who uttered it laughed because his heart and soul were in it. It was a laugh of mirth, relief and
triumph, all carried to the highest degree. It was a long laugh, rising and falling, but when it ceased and the Panther had
drawn a deep breath he opened his mouth again and spoke the words that were in his mind.
"I shorely did some rippin' an' roarin' then," he said. "It was the best chance I ever had, an' I guess I used it. How
things did work for us! Them sleepy sentinels, an' then the stampede of the animals, carryin' Urrea an' the rest right away
"Fortune certainly worked for us," said Ned.
"And we can find no words in which to describe to you our gratitude," said the crippled man on the horse. "We were informed very clearly by Urrea that we were rebels and, under the decree of Santa Anna, would be executed. Even our young
friend here, this boy, William Allen, would not have been spared."
"We ain't all the way out of the woods yet," said the Panther, not wishing to have their hopes rise too high and then fall.
"Of course Urrea an' his men have some arms left. They wouldn't stack 'em all under the shed, an' they can get more from other
Mexicans in these parts. When they learn from their trailers how few we are they'll follow."
The rescued were silent, save one, evidently a veteran frontiersman, who said:
"Let 'em come. I was took by surprise, not thinkin' any Mexicans was north of the Rio Grande. But now that I've got a rifle
on one shoulder an' a musket on the other I think I could thrash an acre-lot full of 'em."
"That's the talk," said Obed White. "We'll say to 'em: 'Come one, come all, this rock from its firm base may fly, but we're
the boys who'll never say die.'"
They relapsed once more into silence. The rain had lightened a little, but the night was as dark as ever. The boy whom
the man had called William Allen drew up by the side of Ned. They were of about the same height, and each was as tall and
strong as a man.
"Have you any friends here with you?" asked Ned.
"All of them are my friends, but I made them in captivity. I came to Texas to find my fortune, and I found this."
The boy laughed, half in pity of himself, and half with genuine humor.
"But I ought not to complain," he added, "when we've been saved in the most wonderful way. How did you ever happen to do
"We've been following you all the way from the other side of the Rio Grande, waiting a good chance. It came to-night with
the darkness, the rain, and the carelessness of the Mexicans. I heard the man call you William Allen. My name is Fulton, Edward
Fulton, Ned to my friends."
"And mine's Will to my friends."
"And you and I are going to be friends, that's sure."
"Nothing can be surer."
The hands of the two boys met in a strong grasp, signifying a friendship that was destined to endure.
The Panther and Obed now began to seek a place for a camp. They knew that too much haste would mean a breakdown, and they
meant that the people whom they had rescued should have a rest. But it took a long time to find the trees which would furnish
wood and partial shelter. It was Obed who made the happy discovery some time after midnight. Turning to their left, they entered
a grove of dwarf oaks, covering a half acre or so, and with much labor and striving built a fire. They made it a big fire,
too, and fed it until the flames roared and danced. Ned noticed that all the rescued prisoners crouched close to it, as if
it were a giver of strength and courage as well as warmth, and now the light revealed their faces. He looked first at the
crippled man, and the surprise that he had felt at his first glimpse of him increased.
The stranger was of a type uncommon on the border. His large features showed cultivation and the signs of habitual and
deep thought. His thick white hair surmounted a broad brow. His clothing, although torn by thorns and briars, was of fine
quality. Ned knew instinctively that it was a powerful face, one that seldom showed the emotions behind it. The rest, except
the boy, were of the border, lean, sun-browned men, dressed in tanned deerskin.
The Panther and Obed also gazed at the crippled man with great curiosity. They knew the difference, and they were surprised
to find such a man in such a situation. He did not seem to notice them at first, but from his seat on a log leaned over the
fire warming his hands, which Ned saw were large, white and smooth. His legs lay loosely against the log, as if he were suffering
from a species of paralysis. The others, soaked by the rain, which, however, now ceased, were also hovering over the fire
which was giving new life to the blood in their veins. The man with the white hands turned presently and, speaking to Ned,
Obed and the Panther, said:
"My name is Roylston, John Roylston."
"I see that you have heard of it," continued the stranger, but without vanity. "Yes, I am the merchant of New Orleans.
I have lands and other property in this region for which I have paid fairly. I hold the deeds and they are also guaranteed
to me by Santa Anna and the Mexican Congress. I was seized by this guerilla leader, Urrea. He knew who I was, and he sought
to extract from me an order for a large sum of money lying in a European bank in the City of Mexico. There are various ways
of procuring such orders, and he tried one of the most primitive methods. That is why I cannot walk without help. No, I will
not tell what was done. It is not pleasant to hear. Let it pass. I shall walk again as well as ever in a month."
"Did he get the order?" asked Obed curiously.
Roylston laughed deep in his throat.
"He did not," he said. "It was not because I valued it so much, but my pride would not permit me to give way to such crude methods. I must say, however, that you three came just in time, and you have done a most marvelous piece
Ned shuddered and walked a little space out on the plain to steady his nerves. He had never deceived himself about the
dangers that the Texans were facing, but it seemed that they would have to fight every kind of ferocity. When he returned,
Obed and the Panther were building the fire higher.
"We must get everybody good and dry," said the Panther. "Pursuit will come, but not to-night, an' we needn't worry about
the blaze. We've food enough for all of you for a day, but we haven't the horses, an' for that I'm sorry. If we had them we
could git away without a doubt to the Texan army."
"But not having them," said Obed, "we'll even do the best we can, if the Mexicans, having run away, come back to fight
"So we will," said a stalwart Texan named Fields. "That Urrea don't get me again, and if I ain't mistook your friend here
is Mr. Palmer, better known in our parts as the Ring Tailed Panther, ain't he?"
Ned saw the Panther's huge form swell. He still wore the great serape, which shone in the firelight with a deep blood-red
"I am the Ring Tailed Panther," he said proudly.
"Then lemme shake your hand. You an' your pards have done a job to-night that ain't had its like often, and me bein' one
of them that's profited by it makes it look all the bigger to me."
The Panther graciously extended an enormous palm, and the great palm of Fields met it in a giant clasp. A smile lighted
up the somber face of Mr. Roylston as he looked at them.
"Often we find powerful friends when we least expect them," he said.
"As you are the worst hurt of the lot," said the Panther, "we're going to make you a bed right here by the fire. No, it
ain't any use sayin' you won't lay down on it. If you won't we'll jest have to put you down."
They spread a blanket, upon which the exhausted merchant lay, and they covered him with a serape. Soon he fell asleep,
and then Fields said to Ned and his comrades:
"You fellows have done all the work, an' you've piled up such a mountain of debt against us that we can never wipe it out.
Now you go to sleep and four of us will watch. And, knowin' what would happen to us if we were caught, we'll watch well. But
nothing is to be expected to-night."
"Suits us," said Obed. "Some must watch while others sleep, so runs the world away. Bet you a dollar, Ned, that I'm off
to Slumberland before you are."
"I don't take the bet," said Ned, "but I'll run you an even race."
In exactly five minutes the two, rolled in their own blankets, slept soundly. All the others soon followed, except four,
who, unlike the Mexicans, kept a watch that missed nothing.