“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.
Every horse of the sixty reached the opposite bank without mishap; scrambling out, shook himself violently, and joined his fellows, herded together by the first of the cavalrymen ferried across.
The baggage wagon and the Twin Sisters had been rafted over. Twilight was gathering when the last boatload of men was landed. Colonel Rusk accompanied it. He stepped ashore, and he and General Houston gripped each other’s hands. The camp guard left at the other side cheered.
“Thank God,” uttered the general. And, to the colonels commanding: “Form the ranks.”
Now across Buffalo Bayou, on the Harrisburg and Santa Anna side toiled the little army, at best pace. In the darkness they clattered over a bridge which crossed a branch bayou running north into Buffalo Bayou.
Vince’s Bayou, was this, by report along the column, and Vince’s Bridge of the road from Harrisburg: the road taken by the Mexican army. But presently the column left the main road and diverged to the left, following closer the timber down Buffalo Bayou.
“Great Cæsar!” murmured Jim, dimly seen as he rode at Ernest’s right hand. “If this keeps up all night we’ll reach the mouth at the San Jacinto, and Lynch’s. Can’t go any further then without more ferrying.”
By midnight the infantry were staggering and stumbling, and even the horses moved on leaden feet. But nobody complained. Seven hundred fighting Texans were hot on the hunt for 600 hateful invading Mexicans, and the two trails would meet somewhere close ahead.