All that he had feared of Santa Anna was true. The dictator was
marching fast, whipping his army forward with the fierce energy that was
a part of his nature. It was likely, too, that squadrons of his cavalry
were much further on. A daring leader like Urrea would certainly be
miles ahead of the main army, and it was more than probable that bands
of Mexican horsemen were now directly between him and San Antonio.
Ned knew that he would need all his strength and courage to finish his
task. So he gave Old Jack a little rest, although he did not seem to
need it, and drew once more upon his rations.
When he remounted he was conscious that the air had grown much colder. A
chill wind began to cut him across the cheek. Snow, rain and wind have
played a great part in the fate of armies, and they had much to do with
the struggle between Texas and Mexico in that fateful February. Ned's
experience told him that another Norther was about to begin, and he was
glad of it. One horseman could make much greater progress through it
than an army.
The wind rose fast and then came hail and snow on its edge. The red glow
in the east disappeared. But Ned knew that it was still there. The
Norther had merely drawn an icy veil between.
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