XIX
FINDING SANTA ANNA
Harrisburg was only about twenty miles inland from Galveston Bay of the coast. So Santa Anna had marched clear across Texas, with General Houston at first before him, and now behind him. On the bay shore east of Harrisburg was the town of New Washington; and a few miles north of New Washington was Lynch’s Ferry and Lynchburg, of the San Jacinto River—just above where the river, flowing southward, widens into San Jacinto Bay in the upper part of Galveston Bay.
From the west, Buffalo Bayou (near whose mouth is to-day located the city of Houston) joined the San Jacinto River at Lynch’s Ferry. Somewhere to the south of the angle formed by the Bayou, and the San Jacinto River and bay, were the Santa Anna army. They could not go much further east, that was certain. They would go north, for East Texas. Urrea was taking care of the south.
To-day’s march from McCurley’s ranch was a hard one. The prairie road was soft with bogs and with mud from the rain, and everybody was in a hurry. The “Twin Sisters,” as the Cincinnati cannon had been christened, were dragged with long ropes—a score of volunteers lending their hands. The cannon wheels and the wheels of the wagons sank deeply into the mushy sod. The general frequently dismounted and helped push and pull. There were so many sloughs and creeks, also, that it took until dark to go twelve miles, and even then camp was made on wet ground at the edge of a sluggish creek.
Buffalo Bayou, curving into the south as it reached back from the San Jacinto, sent out many branches; and Jim and Ernest and all were well fagged out when, before noon of April 18, the third day from McCurley’s and the forking of the trails, the toiling army at last reached the main channel of the bayou, almost opposite Harrisburg.
Not a Mexican soldier had been sighted; but now, slightly to the southeast, across the bayou, lay Harrisburg. It had been burned, for a veil of smoke from its smouldering rafters hung low over the bayou timber, marking the site.
So there, between the bayou and the coast, a short stretch of timber-dotted prairie and swamp country, was Santa Anna with his army.
However, the other army were almost too tired to talk. During the forced march of fifty-five miles from McCurley’s, in two and a half days of rain and mud, Jim and Ernest had scarcely seen Leo and Sion. As soon as the camps had been located, and supper eaten, everybody had gone to sleep. Now the word was passed that a half day’s rest would be given, to freshen the army up for a battle.
Deaf Smith and Henry Karnes, the chief scouts, took two or three of the Deaf Smith Spies, and swimming their horses, crossed the rapid bayou on a raft, to reconnoitre. Otherwise it was a lazy afternoon. But about dusk Deaf Smith returned, driving two prisoners before them. He made them row the raft, and followed them in to camp, a pair of leather saddle-bags in his hand, his rifle in the other. There was no use yelling questions. But——
“I know that one fellow, and so do you!” exclaimed Ernest, to Jim. “That little fellow. Remember him? He’s a paisano from Bejar. He was in Captain Seguin’s Mexican company, too, before San Antonio.”