But the Mexican dragoons did not wait. The cannon had been enough. As soon as Ernest and his troop emerged from the smoke they saw every Mexican spurring off, pell mell; and when they reached the little rise they found only blood on the grass and brush, several wounded horses, and a lot of baggage, including sacks of Ezekiel Williams’s water-melons.
“Let ’em go,” welled the cry; and the dragoons sped unpursued.
“We got some of ’em,” panted Jim, wildly exultant. “There were several horses carrying double. Looked like one fellow was killed. Did you shoot?” he demanded, of Ernest.
“Naw,” confessed Ernest. “I couldn’t see to shoot, in all that smoke. Did you?”
“Shucks, no!” deplored Jim. “I had good aim, all right, but the blamed gun missed on me.”
After collecting the abandoned equipment, and taking the horses and mules that did not have to be put out of their misery, but leaving Ezekiel Williams his water-melons, with their cannon the volunteers rode back in triumph to Gonzales.
Texas’s battle of Lexington had been won.