Now and then a
Mexican vaquero cracked his long whip, and every report made Ned start
and redden with anger.
Some of the recruits were cheerful, talked of being exchanged and of
fighting again in the war, but the great majority marched in silence and
gloom. They felt that they had wasted themselves. They had marched into
a trap, which the Mexicans were able to close upon them before they
could strike a single blow for Texas. Now they were herded like cattle
being driven to a stable.
They reached the town of Goliad, and the Mexican women and children,
rejoicing in the triumph of their men, came out to meet them, uttering
many shrill cries as they chattered to one another. Ned understood them,
but he was glad that the others did not. Young Urrea rode up by the side
of him and said:
"Well, you and your comrades have now arrived at our good town of
Goliad. You should be glad that your lives have been spared, because you
are rebels and you deserve death. But great is the magnanimity of our
most illustrious president and general, Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna."
Ned looked up quickly. He thought he had caught a note of cruelty in
that soft, measured voice. He never trusted Urrea, nor did he ever trust
Santa Anna.
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