Ned made no attempt to escape.  He knew that while he might go about almost as he chose in this crowd of soldiers, now disorganized, the ring of cavalry beyond would hold him.  The thought of escape, however, was but little in his mind just then.  He was absorbed in the great tomb of the Alamo.  Here, despite the recent work of the cannon, all things looked familiar.  He could mark the very spots where he had stood and talked with Crockett or Bowie.  He knew how the story of the immortal defence would spread like fire throughout Texas and beyond.  When he should tell how he had seen the faces of the heroes, every heart must leap.

He wandered back to the church, where the curious still crowded.  Many people from the town, influential Mexicans, wished to see the terrible Texans, who yet lay as they had fallen.  Some spoke scornful words, but most regarded them with awe.  Ned looked at Crockett for the second time, and a hand touched him on the shoulder.  It was Urrea.

“Where are your Texans now?” he asked.

“They are gone,” replied Ned, “but they will never be forgotten.”  And then he added in a flash of anger.  “Five or six times as many Mexicans have gone with them.”

“It is true,” said the young Mexican thoughtfully.  “They fought like cornered mountain wolves.  We admit it.  And this one, Crockett you call him, was perhaps the most terrible of them all.  He swung his clubbed rifle so fiercely that none dared come within its reach.  I slew him.”

“You?” exclaimed Ned.

“Yes, I!  Why should I not?  I fired two pistol bullets into him and he fell.”

He spoke with a certain pride.  Ned said nothing, but he pressed his teeth together savagely and his heart swelled with hate of the sleek and triumphant Urrea.

“General Santa Anna, engrossed in much more important matters, has doubtless forgotten you,” continued the Mexican, “but I will see that you do not escape.  Why he spares you I know not, but it is his wish.”

He called to two soldiers, whom he detailed to follow Ned and see that he made no attempt to escape.  The boy was yet so deeply absorbed in the Alamo that no room was left in his mind for anything else.  Nor did he care to talk further with Urrea, who he knew was not above aiming a shaft or two at an enemy in his power.  He remained in the crowd until Santa Anna ordered that all but the troops be cleared from the Alamo.

Then, at the order of the dictator, the bodies of the Texans were taken without.  A number of them were spread upon the ground, and were covered with a thick layer of dry wood and brush.  Then more bodies of men and heaps of dry wood were spread in alternate layers until the funeral pile was complete.

Young Urrea set the torch, while the Mexican army and population looked on.  The dry wood flamed up rapidly and the whole was soon a pyramid of fire and smoke.  Ned was not shocked at this end, even of the bodies of brave men.  He recalled the stories of ancient heroes, the bodies of whom had been consumed on just such pyres as this, and he was willing that his comrades should go to join Hercules, Hector, Achilles and the rest.