The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena VistaAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
General
The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vista
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
Comanche Indians -- Fiction; Western stories
The Kentucky and Illinois men drew themselves into a close body near the
upper end of the gorge. There they fired as fast as exhaustion would
allow, but salvation was coming from above, and now they knew it.
Closer and closer crept the American artillery. Heavier and heavier
grew its fire. The riflemen, also, sent in the bullets like hail.
Taylor himself, a half dozen bullets through his clothing, stood on the
brink directing the attack. The gorge where the Mexicans stood was
swept by a storm of death. Santa Anna, from the other side, watched in
dismay. Lancers and infantry alike, unable to stand such a sleet,
rushed for the mouth of the gorge. Few of the lancers, who made the
larger target, escaped, and the infantry suffered almost as much.
The gorge was cleared, and the Americans held the plateau. Everywhere
the Mexicans fell back, leaving the whole field in possession of the
little force that had fought so long and so fiercely to hold it. The
Mexican bugle sounded again, but now it was the command to retire. The
sun dipped down behind the mountains, and the shadows began to gather in
the Pass of Angostura. The impossible had happened. Mexico’s finest
army, five to one, led by her greatest general, had broken in vain
against the farmer lads of the South and West, and the little band of
regulars. The victory was won over the greatest odds ever faced by
Americans in a pitched battle.
CHAPTER XV
THE WOMAN AT THE WELL
Phil was still in a daze. He and those around him, exhausted by such
long and desperate efforts, such a continuous roar in their ears, and
such a variation of intense emotions from the highest to the lowest,
were scarcely conscious that the battle was over. They knew, indeed,
that night was falling on the mountains and the pass, that the Mexicans
had withdrawn from the field, that their flags and lances were fading in
the twilight, but it was all, for a little while, dim and vague to them.
The night and the silence coming together contained a great awe. Phil
felt the blood pounding in his ears, and he looked around with wonder.
It was Breakstone who first came to himself.
"We’ve won! We’ve won!" he cried. "As sure as there is a sun behind
those mountains, we’ve beat all Mexico!"
Then Phil, too, saw, and he had to believe.
"The victory is ours!" he cried.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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