The Centre reporter. [volume] (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1871-1940, 1878-01-24

II WAS NJ Llc uAltIe Ol nSll JaSAulo
that the rifle came 10 my notice. We
Texans having gained advantage over the
Mexicans - whose first discharge had
been aimed too high-rushed on while
our enemies paused 10 reload their gums.
Each man reserved his fire for some in
dividual, so that the struggle was less
battle than succession of duels. With
ont bayonets, we broke our rifles against
their heads, and, with pistol or bowie
knife in hand, trampled down the dying
men, plunging our blades into the
breasts of the few who opposed Us, into
the hacks Of those who fed.
We we're still full Of memories of the
Alamo. Never could we forget how the
Mexicans had slaughtered every human
being within It's walls, save three
woman, a child and negro-and after
ward burned the bleeding bodies in one
horrible pile.
The war-cry of our band had been:
- Fight for your lives, and remember the
Alamo" and the poor Mexicans, who
were, after all, but the slaves of blood
thirsty tyrant, thought Of it also,
and moaned as they fell: "Me no
Alamo Me no Alamo!" hoping to
establish a claim for mercy, on the plea
that they had no hand in that horrible
affair.
In the midst of this conflict / saw my
college chum, Howard RAthbone, in in
slant peril. / rushed to his aid. Having
broken his gun over the head of one
Mexican, he found himself beset by an
other, who cried out that be would
avsnge his brothers blood. As they
grappled, the Mexican tried to use his
ride as my chum had his. It was in vain
Howard was the stronger. In q few
moments he gained possession of the
others weapon, end struck him blind
ing blow. Then, his hands being freed,
he drew his bowie-knife and plunged It
into the Mexican's heart. Meanwhile
the savage tide of fighting men poured
past. This was q little conflict by itself
Hardly any one noticed it, there were so
many others. But as he fell, the dying
Mexican clutched the cloth of the
soldiers coat in the grip of death, and
dragged him down upon his breast,
where for a moment ne lay as one who
had cast himself upon the breast Of a
friend. Only q moment; but ere he had
freed himself these words had been
hissed into his ears:
"I curse the gun Msy il prove the
curse of your life :"
As the Texan struggled to his feet,
wrenching the dead clutch from his
jacket, he felt inclined to cast the rife
upon the ground. At that moment il
was too necessary 10 him. The next.
he was a tiger again, beset by other
tigers.
Ne no Alamo q moaned bleeding
Mexican.
He struck him down.
Mother Z" cried a boy, into whose
breast he had plunged his blade.
For answer, he drove his iron heel into
the face that was hardly more than a
child's.
Seventeen years had passed since the
battle Of San Jacinto, when went to the
house Of my former chum 10 see his
daughter marry. Soon came the rustic
supper, the music Of two fiddles, dane
ing, and plenty of drinking-too much,
by far, but it was the custom of the
country. At last the bridegroom father.
standing beside the father of the bride.
glanced up at the rife hanging over the
chimney-piece.
"Some of the relics of your fighting
times, | reckon, said he.
"Yes, said Rathhone, "yes, | took
that from q Mexican rascal at San
Jacinto."
"Well, well, !" said the other, regard
ing the weapon with curiosity. "Sort Of
singular looking, amt it? / never saw
a Mexican rife before. Can't see much
Of it now-it's so high up."
He had been drinking a good deal
and was in high spirits. The same might
have been said of the old soldier.
"I'll have it down, said he, al and let
you see it.
He mounted on chair and took the
weapon in his hands, the thongs by
which it was sluDg remaining on their
nails.
Here you are, friend" said he.
"And now you've got in your hand A
rife that may have been the death of
many brave fellow at the Alamo. It's
seventeen years since it was in any
body's hands, and its last shot, tnayhap,
was fred as kind of salute to my girl,
your boys bride, who came into the
world on that day, her mother not know
ing whether she was a widow or not.
Eh, mother?'
''Ah! that'sa day to remember, said
the wife.
"Pa has got his gun down, cried the
bride. Sam, 1 never saw the gun
down before"
As he spoke the other man gave the
rifle back into Rathbone's hands, and he
stood holding it.
"You don't dare to shoot me-" cried
the bride. "Ahl pa, you're not as
brave as you used to be. You don't
dare aim at me.
eyes, shoot us, laughed half dozen
wild Texan girls. "Shoot us-shoot us
shoot us !"
"Then l will, my pretty robins. ''
cried the father. Zone, two, three
fiy away or fire %
He aimed the weapon that had hung
useless on the wall for seventeen years
the gun the Mexican had cursed-at his
daughter. 1t was just as safe thing to
10, in ones opinion, as if it had been a
)rOomstick.