The boat had no oars, even. General Houston flung off his black coat, grabbed an ax, and began to hew an oar from a piece of fence rail. He delivered orders right and left, while he hewed. A second oar was needed. Men were set at work tying rawhide ropes and horsehair cabrestas or picket lines together. Only the saddle-horses, the “Twin Sisters” teams, and one baggage wagon were to be taken. The rest of the baggage and animals, and the sick men, were to be left here on the west bank.
Thirty pioneers or trail-makers were sent over first, while four men bailed. They carried an end of the rope, and made it fast to a tree; and the rope, thus stretched from bank to bank, formed a guide for the boat. When the boat was returned, rowed and paddled, the general himself leaped aboard, afoot, with the next detachment. His horse whinnied, and sprang into the water and swam after. Colonel Rusk stayed on the west bank. Running between them, guided by the rope, the boat made passage after passage. To help out, the raft which had served Deaf Smith was called into service.
The infantry and cannon and wagon were transferred before the cavalry moved. The boat soon was leaking much worse, and threatened to sink or capsize. The four men bailing furiously could scarcely keep it afloat.
Noon passed, and still the cavalry waited, and still the infantry were being ferried by scow and raft, urged from either bank by the shouts of the general and Colonel Rusk.
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:
Camp at Harrisburg, April 19, 1836.
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.”