William Johnstone - Eyes of Eagles

The Comanche grunted. “I think you would die well, but not on this day.” He led his band away in a swirling cloud of dust.

Jamie rode on, toward San Antonio.

After bathing and shaving, Jamie walked through the streets of the town. San Antonio was the largest town in Texas at the time, boasted more than two thousand citizens. Jamie enjoyed his first meal cooked by someone other than himself in days, and watched the passing parade of colorfully dressed men and women. But his eyes kept drifting to an old mission some distance away. He felt somehow drawn to the church. Finishing his drink, he walked over to the mission and stood for a moment by the entrance of the south gate.

“It’s the Mission of San Antonio de Valero, senor,” a nan told him. “People around here call it The Alamo.”

Twenty-six

As Jamie rode, he stopped often and listened. If the talk was favorable, he quietly told the men to keep their weapons handy and lay in a stock of powder and shot. And Jamie was amazed that nearly everyone he talked with knew of him and his exploits.

General Cos was loudly demanding that Colonel Travis be arrested and handed over to him for the raid at Anahuac. Wrong thing to demand as far as the Texans were concerned. If they wanted to chastise Travis for acting impudently, that was all right. He was one of them. But to hand Travis over for a Mexican firing squad was out of the question.

General Cos retaliated by starting a steady flow of troops into Texas. This, Jamie saw personally and he beat it back to San Felipe to tell Travis.

“How many did you see, Jamie?”

“Several companies, at least.”

Travis nodded his head. “Bonham has just returned from near the border. This only reinforces what he heard. That General Cos is preparing to enter Texas with several battalions of Mexican regulars. War is very close, Jamie. Take some time off and return to your family. Stay a few days, a few days only, Jamie, and then report back here.”

Jamie took two spare mounts and hardly stopped until he reached Kate’s side.

His friends left them alone for the first day, but on the second day, everybody came over, hungry for news.

“I’ll tell you what I know,” Jamie said, after everyone had their drinks and was settled down in the yard. The only movement was the occasional batting and swatting at a mosquito. “There will be another convention — at least one is called for. But I doubt there will be time for it. According to both Travis and Bowie, war is on our heels. This will probably be the last time I’ll be back for several months, at least. Perhaps longer. Probably longer.”

It was August 1835.

“Tell us about the army, Jamie,” Hannah urged. “It must be a grand sight.”

Jamie smiled. How to tell them Texas was about to enter into a war and so far, he’d seen no sign of any organized army? He’d been told that Houston and Fannin did have men. But they were poorly organized. “And, Houston and Fannin have quarreled on more than one occasion,” Jamie told them. “Bowie told me that Fannin wanted to be a general. Houston made him settle for a colonelcy. It isn’t that people aren’t really getting along — the quarrels are minor — it’s just that everything is so disorganized. That’s got a lot of people worried.”

The friends talked well into the night, and then departed. Kate said, “I have clean clothes all ready for you, Jamie. Puts His Foot Down brought you new moccasins and leggin’s that his wife made for you. Hannah made you a new pair of gloves. And Juan sent over a nice serape for you. It will be warm this winter.” She broke down then, and came into his arms.

Jamie held her, letting her weep and get it out of her system. Kate was a strong woman, but she had kept her emotions all bottled up for too long, so the children would not see her shed tears and get them upset.

After a time, she pulled away from him and dabbed at her eyes with a piece of cloth. “There now!” she said, patting her hair. “That’s over and done with. It will not happen again.”

Jamie smiled in the darkness. “Cry if you want to, Kate. When I saw what we’re going to be up against, I felt like shedding a few tears myself.”

She waited.

“So far, we’ve fought soldiers that were pressed into serving. Prisoners, for the most part, who agreed to serve in the army in return for their sentences being lifted. Those troops I saw down along the border were professionals. And there are thousands more just like them not far behind.”

“Juan says he will take up arms and fight alongside you, Jamie.”

“Yes. There are a lot of Mexicans who will be doing that. I just hope in the years to come, after Texas gets her freedom, and she will, that those people are not forgotten. I’ve met once with a fine gentlemen named Juan Sequin. He’s political chief of the San Antonio district. He’s solidly on our side and has pledged to fight with us.”

He put his arm around her shoulders. “Enough talk of war and politics, Kate. Can’t we think of anything better to do?”

She smiled and they rose from the bench together and walked into the cabin. Moments later, the candle in their bedroom was snuffed out.

* * *

“Jamie Ian MacCallister,” Travis said proudly. “I want you to meet Mr. Stephen Austin.”

The Mexicans had finally released Austin under a grant of general amnesty. But the time in prison had nearly done him in. He was only forty-two years old, but looked twenty years older when Jamie met him in September of 1835. His health was broken and he coughed persistently. He was Secretary of the State of Texas when he would die two days after Christmas 1836.

“I’ve heard much good about you, Jamie,” Austin said. “I want to thank you for volunteering to serve with us.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

“I’ve been told by Bowie that you are a natural leader of men. Would you take a commission and lead a company of Texas volunteers?”

“Sir, I know nothing of leading great groups of men in battle. As you no doubt have been told, I was taught warfare by the Shawnees. That is the way I prefer to wage war.”

Austin smiled, as did Travis and Bowie, who had managed to be together in the same room for twenty minutes without one giving the other an acid piece of his mind.

“Very well, Jamie,” Austin said. “At any rate, I’m glad to have you with us.”

Jamie knew a dismissal when he heard one, and he was glad to leave that stuffy room. Austin had the smell of death about him and he said as much to Bonham, just as the voices of Travis and Bowie in loud argument drifted out of the closed door.

“Prison broke him, Jamie. He isn’t a well man. But he’s a good man.”

“That I could see plainly.”

“He needs rest and lots of it, but I fear he’ll not get it.”

That would prove to be true. In just over a month, Austin would be chosen as a field commander, even though he was not a soldier and did not want the job. Being the man he was, Austin did not turn away from the job.

Travis’s spies reported to him that the Mexican commander at San Antonio, Colonel Domingo de Ugar-techa, was about to mount an expedition against the people of Gonzales, a small community to the east of San Antonio.

“Why?” Travis asked. “They’ve done nothing.”

“To take back a cannon given to them some years ago,” the spy replied.

The small brass cannon had been given the people of Gonzales some years back to help protect them against Indian attack. The cannon itself was very nearly useless. But the very idea of a large Mexican force of soldiers attacking civilians over a cannon that was practically worthless rankled the Texans. Jamie was ordered to ride to Gonzales, to warn the settlers there. When he arrived, he found the citizens already knew of the impending attack and had strung up two huge banners. One said, GO TO HELL, SANTA ANNA. The other banner was hung over the tiny cannon, now mounted on a cart. It read, COME AND TAKE IT.