Texas saw that his time for vengeance on his too persistent follower had come. Whirling around, he measured his distance accurately, and drove his iron-shod heels into the bay's flank. Again came the flying heels, this time on Cardenas's bridle arm, and broke it.
With a fierce curse the Mexican changed the bridle to his other hand, and tried vainly to control his plunging horse. Wherever he plunged Texas followed, and his swift heels rattled on the unhappy bay's ribs and his master's limbs indiscriminately. At last no bay was there to receive them. He had beaten an ignominious retreat, and was carrying his helpless rider across the prairie as fast as his demoralized condition would allow. As soon as the foe was fairly routed, Texas recovered his equanimity and became as gentle as a lamb.
John pursued his journey without further interruption, exulting in the victory and lavishing praises and caresses on the victor, assuring him over and over again that he was worthy of the "lone star" on his forehead and of the land whose name he bore.
They reached the Texan camp at sundown, and John disburdened himself of his great news. It was to the effect that Santa Anna had divided his army, part of them to cross the river at a ford several miles below and strike Houston in flank while Santa Anna attacked him in front.
"And they ain't more'n two to one now, General," concluded John, eagerly, "and I know you won't retreat for them."
"Not a step, my boy," replied Houston. "We'll not retreat—we'll fight."
So on April 21 the battle of San Jacinto was fought, and the independence of Texas achieved. John was triumphant at the result of his calculations, and when the army reoccupied Harrisburg he had the pleasure of restoring to his quondam chief the entire plant of the Weekly Telegraph intact.
For himself he asked no reward but the consciousness of having done his duty at considerable risk to himself, and the possession of his beloved Texas, who was formally presented to him by General Houston, at the head of the army, as a slight reward for his devoted patriotism.
The young republic afterward showed her gratitude in a more substantial manner by granting to John Sibley, his heirs and assigns forever, as many acres of her virgin soil as formed a magnificent ranch, where John and Texas lived to the extreme of the years allotted to man or horse, honored by all who knew them as potent factors in the cause of Texan independence.