Many and loud were the execrations uttered when he explained himself further and positively affirmed that all their cannonading and musketry had not disabled a solitary Texan.
"We shall do better to-morrow," said Santa Anna, with a cynical grin. "How are their provisions?"
"Little eat," said Castro. "Texan lie in fort. No make fire. No kettle."
"Short of rations, eh?" said General Cos. "That's a point, general. We might starve 'em out. We have lost a great many men——"
"We had better lose twice as many," sharply interrupted his commander, "than to waste any more time here. Houston is getting his volunteers in hand. We must have the Alamo to-morrow if it costs us a thousand men!"
"What Santa Anna say now to great chief?" asked Castro. "What tell Lipan?"
His inquiry was made somewhat haughtily, but the response came at once with extreme graciousness and courtesy. The Lipans were to consider themselves the fast friends of the Mexican republic, their chief was to call himself the brother of its President, and Castro and Red Wolf were led away to a camp-fire where plentiful rations awaited them. It was not a time when the invaders of Texas were willing to make additional enemies.
It was not altogether a cheerful time for them. Really, the greatest element of uncertainty of success in the proposed assault of the fort was the dispirited, defeated feeling that prevailed among the Mexican troops. It was to obviate that defect in their fighting qualities that Colonel Campos, of the infantry, received orders that night to issue liberal rations of aguardiente, or Mexican whiskey, as soon as the several battalions should march into their respective positions.
"Colonel," said Santa Anna, "their feathers are down a little. Make them so drunk they won't know whether they are killed or not. Who cares? We have plenty to take their places if we win a victory."
More peones and rancheros could be expended to any extent provided he could retain his autocratic grip upon the reins of power.