ped the boy, as the steps of the enemy
sounded nearer and nearer. "What shall we do?"

"Move to the right, and we'll see if we can't throw them off the
trail," answered Poke Stover.

To the right there was a slight hollow, filled with mesquite-trees and
bushes, and beyond this was a sandy plain covered with cacti. But of
the latter both were ignorant.

Down into the hollow they dove, their horses glad enough of the chance
to get a drink at the pool among the bushes. Under the mesquite-trees
they halted, and Stover went back to reconnoitre.

The scout was gone for fully quarter of an hour, and came back
chuckling softly to himself.

"We threw 'em nicely," he said. "We are safe now, providin' we don't
make too much noise."

"Then let us go on, Poke. We must carry the news to Bexar."

"It's funny there are no scouts around," was the old frontiersman's
comment. "They ought to be on the watch." But none of the Texan
soldiers were on guard, the greater portion of them being in attendance
at a Mexican fandango in the town, never suspecting the attack so close
at hand. Santa Anna heard of this fandango, and would have pushed
forward to capture San Antonio at once, but could not get his army
across the Medina River.

Leaving the pool, Dan and the frontiersman ascended to the plain, and
presently found themselves among the cacti. This was anything but
pleasant, and they had to pick their way with great care in the
darkness, and even then their steeds often refused to budge, so prickly
were the plants. It was almost morning when they arrived in sight of
the _jacals_, or huts, which dotted the outskirts of the city.

The pair at once sought out the commander of the garrison,
Lieutenant-Colonel William B. Travis, who was still sleeping. Travis
was a dashing young soldier of twenty-eight, a lawyer by profession,
and a native of North Carolina. The commander was "red-hot" for
independence, and one who never gave up, as we shall soon see.

"So you wish to see me," he said to Stover, whom he had met before.
"It's rather an early visit."

"I have to report that a large body of Mexicans are approaching the
town," answered the old frontiersman, saluting in true military style.
"Young Radbury here and myself were down along the Medina, when we
spotted them trying to bring a couple of cannon over on a raft."

"Mexican soldiers?" exclaimed the lieutenant-colonel. "You are certain
of this?"

"We are."

"How many of them do y