Now Ned knew that his presages were true. They were doomed.
The sun rose higher, pouring a golden light upon the plain. The distance
to the Mexican lines was in appearance reduced half by the vivid light.
Then Ned of the keen eye saw a dark line far off to their right on the
prairie. He watched them a little, and saw that they were Mexican
cavalry, coming to swell still further Urrea's swollen force. He also
saw two cannon drawn by mules.
Ned pointed out the column to Wallace, a Major among the Texans, and
then Wallace used a pair of glasses.
"You are right," he said. "They are Mexicans and they have two pieces of
artillery. Oh, if we could only use our own guns!"
But the Texan cannon stood as worthless as if they had been spiked, and
the Texans were compelled to remain silent and helpless, while the
Mexicans put their new guns in position, and took aim with deliberation,
as if all the time in the world was theirs. Ned tried to console himself
with the reflection that Mexican gunners were not often accurate, but
the first thud and puff of smoke showed that these were better than
usual.
A shower of grape shot coming from a superior height swept their camp,
killing two or three of the remaining oxen, smashing the wagons to
pieces, and wounding more men.
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