The Lost Gold of the Montezumas: A Story of the AlamoStoddard, William O.
General
The Lost Gold of the Montezumas: A Story of the Alamo
Stoddard, William O.
Alamo (San Antonio, Tex.) -- Siege, 1836 -- Juvenile fiction
He had said very little more than that when they heard hushed voices in
the pathway near them.
"Jest about yer it was," said one.
"Look out sharp now!" said another.
"I'll find his carkiss if I can," came from Joe. "He was a buster.
But what did he whoop for?"
"He ort not to," remarked Jim, "but I s'pose he couldn't help it. Now
they'll all know we've come. But I just liked that young feller."
"Ugh!" said Castro. "Heap friend of Red Wolf. Boy talk."
Out darted Red Wolf, and in a moment more there were hearty
hand-shakings all around.
Castro had ghastly tokens to show of the blows he had stricken upon his
Comanche enemies, but now he gave also a better account of the manner
of his separation from his friends on the night after they went over
the Rio Grande.
There had been, as Tetzcatl had reported, a sharp brush between the
Lipans and a party of Comanches. The old Tlascalan had only overstated
the affair in order that he might carry off the Texans with him.
"All gone" had been partly true, nevertheless, for the Lipans, losing a
few braves, had been forced to retreat toward the north. They had
thereby been compelled to give up any idea of trying to join Bowie's
party.
Ever since then, believing that his son and his friends had been "wiped
out," the revengeful chief had been hanging upon the movements of Great
Bear's band wherever they went or came. He was now informed somewhat
more fully of what the adventurers had been doing, but it was no time
for too much talk.
"Forward now," exclaimed Bowie, at last. "Our next business is to get
the cash and push on to the Alamo. We're pretty nigh out of powder
ourselves. We couldn't stand a long fight."
On they went, therefore, cautiously enough, but when they reached the
open it seemed entirely deserted. They halted in the bushes while
Castro and Red Wolf made circuits to the right and left.
"Men," said Bowie, with emphasis, while they waited, "we'll go in and
get it. We must take almost any risk to carry it off. But don't you
forget, if I go down, that this cash belongs to Texas. 'Tisn't yours
nor mine, except each man's fair allowance for taking it in. None of
you fellows found it, in the first place."
"All right, colonel," responded Joe. "Hurrah for Texas. I don't want
any dollar that isn't mine."
"Don't hurrah quite yet," said Bowie. "We don't know how near we may
be to a hundred scalping-knives. Hullo! Here they come."
It was the two Lipans and not the Comanches that he referred to.
"Big Knife walk along," said Castro, as he came nearer. "No Comanche."
"I'd like to give 'em a hit," growled Bowie, "but this isn't the time
for it. Come on, boys. We mustn't waste a minute."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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