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Updated: July 25, 2025
Ned snatched up his rifle, which lay on the ground at his feet, and received the slash of the sword upon its barrel. The blade broke in two, and then, clubbing his rifle, Ned struck. It was fortunate for Urrea, too, that he was agile of mind and body. He sprang back quickly, but the butt of the rifle grazed his head and drew blood.
Urrea, looking fresh and spirited, came on with confidence and saluted in a light easy fashion. The two Americans did not return the salute, but waited gravely. "We can be polite, even if we are enemies," said Urrea, "so I say good morning to you both, former friends of mine." "I have no friendship with spies and traitors," growled the Panther.
I hate them, but it hurts my pride less to be defeated by them than by any others whom I know." "Well spoken, Urrea," said a third man, "but since these three are fighters and will stay to meet us, it is a certainty that our general will scoop them into his net. Then you can have all the revenge you wish." "I count upon it, Ambrosio," said Urrea, smiling.
Like a flash Ned seized his own cocked rifle and covered the man. When he looked down the sights he saw that it was Urrea. Urrea halted, taken by surprise. His own rifle was not leveled, and Ned held his life at his gun muzzle. "Stop, Don Francisco, or I fire," said the boy. "I did not dream that it was you, and I am sorry that I was wrong." Urrea recovered very quickly from his surprise.
He said nothing about the incident either to Obed or the Ring Tailed Panther. The next day Urrea was crowded from his mind by exciting news. A sentinel had hailed at dawn three worn and unkempt Texans who had escaped from San Antonio, where they had long been held prisoners by Cos. They brought word that the Mexican army was disheartened.
He inquired for General Urrea, the commander, but the general having gone to Victoria he was directed to Colonel Portilla, who commanded in his absence. He found Portilla sitting in a patio with Colonel Garay, the younger Urrea and several other Mexican officers. The messenger saluted, drew the letter from his pocket and presented it to Colonel Portilla.
How were Crockett and Bowie? His heart filled with grief that he had failed them. But had he failed them? Neither Urrea nor any other Mexican had spoken of the approach of a relieving force under Roylston. There was no sign that the Mexicans were sending any part of their army to meet it.
The sudden appearance of the Texan riflemen outside the Alamo look Urrea by surprise, but he was quick of perception and action, and his cavalrymen were the best in the Mexican army. He wheeled them into line with a few words of command and shouted to them to charge. Bowie's men instantly stopped, forming a rough line, and up went their rifles.
Unable to walk, he had received at his request two pistols, and now he was firing them as fast as he could pull the triggers and reload. "Shoot him! Shoot him at once!" cried Urrea. His own pistol was empty now, but a dozen musket balls were fired into the room. Bowie, hit twice, nevertheless raised himself upon his elbow, aimed a pistol with a clear eye and a steady hand, and pulled the trigger.
It seemed to say to him that he was only a boy, that one so young was bound to make mistakes, but that the Mexican was not offended because he was making one now at his cost. The laugh was irritating to the last degree, and yet it implanted in the boy's mind a doubt, a fear that he might have been mistaken. "Signaling to friends, not enemies, you mean," said Urrea.
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