The two, the man and the boy, shook hands, but made no further display of feeling.  The force was organized in the village, beyond the sight of the Mexicans, who were lounging in the grass, although they had posted sentinels.  Every Texan was well armed, carrying a rifle, pistol and knife.  Some had in addition the Indian tomahawk.

It was the first day of October and the coolness of late afternoon had come.  A fresh breeze was blowing from the southwest.  The little command, silent save for the hoof beats of their horses, rode down to the river.  The women and children looked after them and they, too, were silent.  A strange Indian stoicism possessed them all.

Ned and Obed were side by side.  The breeze cooled the forehead and cheeks of the boy, but his pulses beat hard and fast.  He looked back at Gonzales and he knew that he would never forget that little village of little log cabins.  Then he looked straight before him at the yellow river, and the shore beyond, where the Mexican camp lay.

It was now seven o’clock and the twilight was coming.

“Isn’t it late to make an attack?” he said to Obed.

“It depends on what happens.  Circumstances alter battles.  If we surprise them there’ll be time for a fine fight.  If they discover our advance it may be better to wait until morning.”

They rode into the water twenty abreast, and made for the farther shore.  So many horses made much splashing, and Ned expected bullets, but none came.  Dripping, they reached the farther shore and went straight toward the Mexican camp.  Then came sudden shouts, the flash of rifles and the singing of bullets.  The Mexican sentinels had discovered the Texan advance.

Moore ordered his men to halt, and then he held a short conference with the leaders.  It was very late, and they would postpone the attack until morning.  Hence, they tethered their horses in sight of the Mexican camp, set many sentinels and deliberately began to cook their suppers.

It was all very strange and unreal to Ned.  Having started for a battle it was battle he wanted at once and the wait of a night rested heavily upon his nerves.

“Take it easy, Ned,” said Obed, who observed him.  “Willful haste makes woeful fight.  Eat your supper and then you’d better lie down and sleep if you can.  I’d rather go on watch toward morning if I were you, because if anything happens in the night it will happen late.”

Ned considered it good advice and he lay down in his blankets, having been notified that he would be called at one o’clock in the morning to take his turn.  Once more he exerted will to the utmost in the effort to control nerves and body.  He told himself that he was now surrounded by friends, who would watch while he slept, and that he could not be surprised.  Slumber came sooner than he had hoped, but at the appointed hour he was awakened and took his place among the sentinels.