On they marched, steadily――and their drums were heard beating in cadence. They made a compact mass, as if they did not intend to stop but to proceed right ahead to the ferry crossing.
Ernest’s heart thumped rapidly. No orders issued from the general, who was composedly standing with Colonel Hockley and Colonel Rusk and others of his staff, between the Twin Sisters battery and the Colonel Burleson regiment, and watching the Mexican advance.
“By cracky, they’ll have to fight or swim――or do both!” exclaimed Jim. “What are we here for, anyway, do they think?”
At this moment a bugle call shrilled gaily from the Mexican ranks. Out galloped the artillery mules, dragging the one cannon to the furthest of the timber islands, opposite the Millard infantry. It was a challenge! From the trees puffed a cloud of smoke, and accompanying the heavy report, in among the live-oak branches along the bayou rattled a storm of grape-shot.
But the Twin Sisters were answering. How Colonel Neill and his artillerymen hustled!
“Lie down, men! Lie down!” shouted the regular and riflemen officers. The cavalry, well back in the shelter of the festooned live-oaks, were safe. General Houston still stood erect. The Twin Sisters and the Mexican piece were booming back and forth.
Again sounded the bugle, and again. The Mexican infantry deployed a long line, and ran forward through the grass, firing――halting, firing, loading and running again, making for Colonel Burleson’s regiment. The Twin Sisters were turned on them――the regiment began to fire, “Crack! Crackity crack! Crack-crack-crack!”――and the Mexican soldiers scurried back.
“Neill’s hit! Look at him!” cried Jim. “Thunder!”
Colonel Neill was staggering; down he sank. A grape-shot had struck him in the thigh. But the Mexican troops were charging. They swept out gallantly, along the front of Colonel Sherman’s regiment, and entered some timber curving to the right.
The Mexican skirmish line had retired, though. How the Burleson men yelled!
Colonel Sherman spurred to the general. He talked a few moments, and back he galloped to the cavalry.
“Forward, cavalry!” he shouted. “Follow me. Let’s drive those _vaqueros_ [cowherds] out of that timber.”
Around to the right he dashed, and glad of the chance the cavalry pressed after him――Ernest bending low on Duke’s neck, to avoid the moss and branches, and Jim keeping with him, stride for stride. But the Mexican troops were scarcely sighted. Mexican sharpshooters were there, though, among the trees, and without any fight the cavalry must return again before being cut off. Nobody was hurt.