"
The Mexican troops were coming close now. The bands playing the Deguelo
swelled to greater volume and the ground shook again as the Mexican
artillery fired its second volley. When the smoke drifted away again the
Alamo itself suddenly burst into flame. The Texan cannon at close range
poured their shot and shell into the dense ranks of the Mexicans. But
piercing through the heavy thud of the cannon came the shriller and more
deadly crackle of the rifles. The Texans were there, every one of them,
on the walls. He might have known it. Nothing on earth could catch them
asleep, nor could anything on earth or under it frighten them into
laying down their arms.
Ned began to shout, but only hoarse cries came from a dry throat through
dry lips. The great pulses in his throat were leaping again, and he was
saying: "The Texans! The Texans! Oh, the brave Texans!"
But nobody heard him. Santa Anna, Filisola, Castrillon, Tolsa, Gaona and
the other generals were leaning against the earthwork, absorbed in the
tremendous spectacle that was passing before them. The soldiers who were
to guard the prisoner forgot him and they, too, were engrossed in the
terrible and thrilling panorama of war.
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