The Texan Scouts

The Texan Scouts, by Joseph A.
Altsheler

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Altsheler
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Title: The Texan Scouts A Story of the Alamo and Goliad
Author: Joseph A. Altsheler
Release Date: May 4, 2005 [eBook #15767]
Language: English
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THE TEXAN SCOUTS
A Story of the Alamo and Goliad
by
JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER
Author of The Texan Star, The Quest of the Four, The Scouts of the
Valley, etc.
Appleton-Century-Crofts, Inc. New York
1913

FOREWORD
"THE TEXAN SCOUTS," WHILE A COMPLETE STORY IN
ITSELF, CONTINUES THE FORTUNES OF NED FULTON AND
HIS FRIENDS, WHO WERE THE CENTRAL CHARACTERS IN
"THE TEXAN STAR."

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
IN THE STORM

II. THE CAPTIVES
III. THE FIGHT WITH URREA
IV. THE CABIN IN THE WOODS
V. SANTA ANNA'S ADVANCE
VI. FOR FREEDOM'S SAKE
VII. THE HERALD OF ATTACK
VIII. IN THE ALAMO
IX. THE FLAG OF NO QUARTER
X. CROCKETT AND BOWIE
XI. THE DESPERATE DEFENCE
XII. BEFORE THE DICTATOR
XIII. TO THE LAST MAN
XIV. THE NEWS OF THE FALL
XV. IN ANOTHER TRAP
XVI. FANNIN'S CAMP
XVII. THE SAD SURRENDER
XVIII. THE BLACK TRAGEDY
XIX. THE RACE FOR THE BOAT
XX. THE CRY FOR VENGEANCE
CHAPTER I

IN THE STORM
The horseman rode slowly toward the west, stopping once or twice to
examine the wide circle of the horizon with eyes that were trained to
note every aspect of the wilderness. On his right the plains melted away
in gentle swell after swell, until they met the horizon. Their brown
surface was broken only by the spiked and thorny cactus and stray bits
of chaparral.
On his left was the wide bed of a river which flowed through the sand,
breaking here and there into several streams, and then reuniting, only to
scatter its volume a hundred yards further into three or four channels. A
bird of prey flew on strong wing over the water, dipped and then rose
again, but there was no other sign of life. Beyond, the country
southward rolled away, gray and bare, sterile and desolate.
The horseman looked most often into the south. His glances into the
north were few and brief, but his eyes dwelled long on the lonely land
that lay beyond the yellow current. His was an attractive face. He was
young, only a boy, but the brow was broad and high, and the eyes,
grave and steady, were those of one who thought much. He was clad
completely in buckskin, and his hat was wide of brim. A rifle held in
one hand lay across the pommel of his saddle and there were weapons
in his belt. Two light, but warm, blankets, folded closely, were tied
behind him. The tanned face and the lithe, strong figure showed a
wonderful degree of health and strength.
Several hours passed and the horseman rode on steadily though slowly.
His main direction was toward the west, and always he kept the river
two or three hundred yards on his left. He never failed to search the
plains on either side, but chiefly in the south, with the eager, intent gaze
that missed nothing. But the lonesome gray land, cut by the coiling
yellow river, still rolled before him, and its desolation and chill struck
to his heart. It was the depth of the Texan winter, and, at times, icy
gusts, born in far mountains, swept across the plains.
The rider presently turned his horse toward the river and stopped on a
low bluff overlooking it. His face showed a tinge of disappointment, as

if his eyes failed to find objects for which they sought. Again he gazed
long and patiently into the south, but without reward.
He resumed his ride parallel with the river, but soon stopped a second
time, and held up an open hand, like one who tests the wind. The air
was growing perceptibly colder. The strong gusts were now fusing into
a steady wind. The day, which had not been bright at any time, was
turning darker. The sun was gone and in the far north banks of mists
and vapor were gathering. A dreary moaning came over the plain.
Ned Fulton, tried and brave though he was, beheld