He retreated toward the center of the platform as the day was now coming fast after the southern fashion.  The whole circle of the heavens seemed to burst into a blaze of light, and, in a few hours, the sun was hotter than it had been before.  Many sounds now came from the camp below, but Ned, although he often looked eagerly, saw no signs of coming departure.  Shortly after noon there was a great blare of trumpets, and a detachment of lancers rode up.  They were large men, mounted finely, and the heads of their long lances glittered as they brandished them in the sun.

Ned’s attention was drawn to the leader of this new detachment, an officer in most brilliant uniform, and he started.  He knew him at once.  It was the brother-in-law of Santa Anna, General Martin Perfecto de Cos, a man in whom that old, cruel strain was very strong, and whom Ned believed to be charged with the crushing of the Texans.  Then he was right in his surmise that Mexican forces for the campaign were gathering here on the banks of the Teotihuacan!

More troops came in the afternoon, and the boy no longer had the slightest doubt.  The camp spread out further and further, and assumed military form.  Not so many men were lounging about and the tinkling of the guitars ceased.  Ned could see General de Cos plainly, a heavy man of dark face, autocratic and domineering in manner.

Night came and the boy went once more to the palm.  When he struck with his machete the water came forth, but in a much weaker stream.  In reality he was yet thirsty after he drank the full flow, but he would not cut into the stem again.  He knew that he must practice the severest economy with his water supply.

The third night came and as soon as he was safe from observation Ned slashed the palm once more.  The day had been very hot and his thirst was great.  The water come forth but with only half the vigor of the morning, which itself had shown a decrease.  The poor palm, too, trembled and shook when he cut into it with the machete and the blades drooped.  Ned drank what it supplied and then turned away regretfully.  It was a kindly palm, a gift to man, and yet he must slay it to save his own life.

He lay down again, but he did not sleep as well as usual.  His nerves were upset by the long delay, and the decline of the palm, and he was not refreshed when he awoke in the morning.  His head felt hot and his limbs were heavy.

As it was not yet bright daylight he went to the palm and cut into it.  The flow of water was only a few mouthfuls.  Cautious and doubly economical now he pursed his lips that not a single drop might escape.  Then, after eating a little food he lay down, protected as much as possible by the scanty bushes, and also sheltering himself at times from the sun with the serape which he drew over his head.  He felt instinctively and with the power of conviction that the Mexicans would not depart.  The coming of Cos had taken the hope from him.  Cos!  He hated the short, brusque name.