Somebody in Ernest and Jim’s company had picked up, on the ground where the general’s quarters had been located, a piece of paper which he had thrown aside. It was the first part of a note, written in lead pencil to Mr. Henry Raguet, of the Committee of Safety in Nacogdoches. The fragment said:
SIR: This morning we are in preparation to meet Santa Anna. It is the only chance of saving Texas. From time to time I have looked for reinforcements in vain. The convention adjourning to Harrisburg struck _panic_ throughout the country. Texas could have started at least four thousand men. We will only have about seven hundred to march with, besides the camp guard. We go to conquer. It is wisdom, growing out of necessity, to meet the enemy now; every consideration enforces it. No previous occasion would justify it....
“Sounds like business,” approved one of the men, as the note was circulated.
Toward sunset only one boatload of the infantry remained to be ferried. Sion and Leo had gone――they had waved to Jim and Ernest; and balancing, Sion had grinned with glee at the adventure.
“Cavalry’s turn, now, gentlemen,” called Colonel Rusk. “Swim your horses well below the ferry, and don’t crowd.”
“Come on, boys,” bade Colonel Sherman. “Tie up your bridles.”
The bridle lines were tied loosely about the horses’ necks, so that the animals would not entangle their feet, and by companies the horses were led to the water’s edge. Then the men fell back, forming a half circle, to shout and wave their arms and hats, and crowd the horses forward. In plunged the gallant Colonel Sherman, to head his own horse across, and slipping from the saddle, to swim alongside, holding by the mane.
On the bank the front rank of horses were pressed forward by their comrades behind, jostling and snorting to the shouting and waving of the men. Presently in splashed one horse, and another, and another, to launch in the wake of the Colonel Sherman horse. Some disappeared entirely as they took the plunge into the deep water. In went Jim’s horse; in went Duke――practically heels over head; and Ernest watched anxiously for him to break the surface again, for it was well known that if a horse got water in his ears, while swimming, he would drown. But up bobbed Duke’s yellow head; he blew the water from his nostrils, and bravely stuck out along with the procession.