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Sometimes he sends the storm, and then gives notice. This is mere playfulness on his part: it is all one to him. His great power is in the low pressure. On the Bexar plains of Texas, among the hills of the Presidio, along the Rio Grande, low pressure is bred; it is nursed also in the Atchafalaya swamps of Louisiana; it moves by the way of Thibodeaux and Bonnet Carre.
At Gonzales the people of Dewitt's Colony had a little four-pounder, which they used to protect themselves from the Indians. Colonel Ugartchea, a Mexican, was sent to take it away from them. Every colonist hastened to its rescue. It was retaken, and the Mexicans pursued to Bexar. Just at this time Austin returned from his Mexican dungeon. No hearing had been granted him.
In these times, so he says, we can't afford to lose six fat porkers." "Perhaps those rushers who were on their way to Bexar rounded them up on the sly." "No; father put the crowd down for honest men, and he rarely makes a mistake in judging a man, Ralph. Either the hogs got away by themselves or else some of those sneaking Comanches have been around again."
By instinct the white mustang seemed to know the best course to pursue, and went on where the trees were high branched and tolerably far apart. This was lucky for Dan, for had the limbs been low he must certainly have been knocked off and killed. He bent as low as he could. "Go it, if you must," he thought, grimly. "You'll get tired some time. But I hope you don't go all the way to Bexar."
"But you are going to San Antonio de Bexar." "You are right. It is an ancient Mexican town, and there you will be quite safe." "But I don't want to go there, I want to go home." "You will be better off with me; anyway, you must come on. If I let you out of my sight, and you fall in with those Americans, you will betray me to them. Come, we must lose no time."
We sent off our guide to the government at San Felipe with news of our success. In nine days he returned, bringing us the thanks of congress, and fresh orders. We were to leave a garrison in the fort, and then ascend Trinity river, and march towards San Antonio de Bexar.
As he stooped to pick them up he swiftly thrust Bexar Scrip No. 2692 in the inside breast pocket of his coat. This happened at just half-past four o'clock, and when the file clerk took the files he threw them in a pile in his room, came out and locked the door. The clerks were moving out of the doors in long, straggling lines. It was closing time.
So far, nothing had been seen of any game but a deer that was too far away to be brought down, and a few hares, which neither took the trouble to shoot. But now Poke Stover called attention to a flock of wild turkeys resting along the rocks not a hundred yards distant. "A fine shot, Dan!" he whispered. "We can make a good trade with 'em, down in Bexar." "That's so," answered the boy.
We found the gates closed, and the enemy on his guard, but too dispirited to oppose our taking up a position at about cannon-shot from the great redoubt. We had soon invested all the outlets from the city. San Antonio de Bexar lies in a fertile and well-irrigated valley, stretching westward from the river Salado.
They resumed their journey in the morning, and pressed along, with nothing of special interest occurring until they reached the Colorado River. As they were following down this stream, to strike the road which leads to Bexar, they saw in the distance a single column of smoke ascending the clear sky. Hastening toward it, they found that it rose from the centre of a small grove near the river.
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