avis from the Alamo. It was of the most thrilling
character, breathing the very spirit of patriotism and courage--and
despair. In less than an hour, Houston, with a few companions, was on
his way to the Alamo. At the same time he sent an express to Fannin,
urging him to meet him on the Cibolo. Houston will be here to-morrow."

"Then he will learn that all help is too late."

But Houston had learned it in his own way before he reached Gonzales;
for Travis had stated that as long as the Alamo could be held, signal
guns would be fired at sunrising; and it is a well-authenticated fact
that these guns were heard by trained ears for more than one hundred
miles across the prairie. Houston, whose senses were keen as the Indians
with whom he had long lived knew when he was within reach of the sound;
and he rose very early, and with his ear close to the ground waited in
intense anxiety for the dull, rumbling murmur which would tell him the
Alamo still held out. His companions stood at some distance, still as
statues, intently watching him. The sun rose. He had listened in vain;
not the faintest sound did his ear detect.

"The Alamo has fired its last gun," he said, on rejoining his
companions.

"And the men, General?"

"They have died like men. You may be sure of that."

At Gonzales he heard the particulars. And he saw that the news had
exerted a depressing influence upon the troops there. He called them
together. He spoke to them of the brutal tragedy, and he invested its
horrors with the grandeur of eternal purpose and the glory of heroic
sacrifice.

"They were soldiers," he cried; "and they died like soldiers. Their
names will be the morning stars of American history. They will live for
ever in the red monument of the Alamo." He looked like a lion, with a
gloomy stare; his port was fierce, and his eyes commanded all he viewed.
"Vengeance remains to us! We have declared our independence, and it must
be maintained."

He immediately sent off another express to Fannin; apprised him of the
fall of the Alamo; ordered him to blow up Goliad and fall back upon
Gonzales. Then he sent wagons into the surrounding country, to transport
the women and children to the eastern settlements; for he knew well what
atrocities would mark every mile of Santa Anna's progress through the
country.

These wagons, with their helpless loads, were to rendezvous at Peach
Creek, ten miles from Gonzales; where also he expected Fannin and his
eight