Yet the Texans felt no exultation.  They had been compelled to retreat before the Mexicans, and they could not forget King and his men, and those whom they had left behind in the church.  Ned, in his heart, knowing the Mexicans so well, did not believe that a single one of them had been saved.

They walked the whole day, making for the town of Victoria, where they expected to meet Fannin, and shortly before night they stopped in a wood, footsore and exhausted.  Again their camp was pitched on the banks of a little creek and some of the hunters shot two fine fat deer further up the stream.

Seeking as much cheer as they could they built fires, and roasted the deer.  The spirits of the young recruits rose.  They would meet Fannin to-morrow or the next day and they would avenge the insult that the Mexicans had put upon them.  They were eager for a new action in which the odds should not be so great against them, and they felt sure of victory.  Then, posting their sentinels, they slept soundly.

But Ned did not feel so confident.  Toward morning he rose from his blankets.  Yet he saw nothing.  The prairie was bare.  There was not a single sign of pursuit.  He was surprised.  He believed that at least the younger Urrea with the cavalry would follow.

Ned now surmised the plan that the enemy had carried out.  Instead of following the Texans through the forests and swamps they had gone straight to Victoria, knowing that the fugitives would make for that point.  Where Fannin was he could not even guess, but it was certain that Ward and his men were left practically without ammunition to defend themselves as best they could against a horde of foes.

The hunted Texans sought the swamps of the Guadalupe, where Mexican cavalry could not follow them, but where they were soon overtaken by skirmishers.  Hope was now oozing from the raw recruits.  There seemed to be no place in the world for them.  Hunted here and there they never found rest.  But the most terrible fact of all was the lack of ammunition.  Only a single round for every man was left, and they replied sparingly to the Mexican skirmishers.

They lay now in miry woods, and on the other side of them flowed the wide and yellow river.  The men sought, often in vain, for firm spots on which they might rest.  The food, like the ammunition, was all gone, and they were famished and weak.  The scouts reported that the Mexicans were increasing every hour.

It was obvious to Ned that Ward must surrender.  What could men without ammunition do against many times their number, well armed?  He resolved that he would not be taken with them, and shortly before day he pulled through the mud to the edge of the Guadalupe.  He undressed and made his clothes and rifle into a bundle.  He had been very careful of his own ammunition, and he had a half dozen rounds left, which he also tied into the bundle.

Then shoving a fallen log into the water he bestrode it, holding his precious pack high and dry.  Paddling with one hand he was able to direct the log in a diagonal course across the stream.  He toiled through another swamp on that shore, and, coming out upon a little prairie, dressed again.