“San Jacinto,” he answered, and went on his way, nor did any dare molest him.  But he was worn out and aging fast, and the end came toward the close of July, 1863.

Reference has been made to the capture of the old mission at San Antonio known as “The Alamo,” and a brief account must be given of the remarkable group of men who lost their lives there—­David Crockett, James Bowie, and William Barrett Travis.  Crockett was perhaps the most famous of the three, and his name is still more or less of a household word throughout the middle West, while some of his stories have passed into proverbs.  He was the most famous rifle shot in the whole country and the most successful hunter.  Born in Tennessee soon after the Revolutionary war, of an Irish father, he ran away from home after a few days’ schooling, knocked about the country, served through the Creek war under Andrew Jackson, and gained so much popularity by his hunting stories, with which he held great audiences spellbound, that he was elected to the State legislature and then to Congress, though he had never read a newspaper.  In Congress, he managed to antagonize Andrew Jackson, not a difficult task by any means, with the result that Jackson, who carried Tennessee in his vest pocket, effectively ended Crockett’s political career.  Crockett left the state in disgust, seeking new worlds to conquer, and hearing of the struggle in Texas, decided to join the revolutionists.

By boat and on horseback, he made his way toward the distant plains where the Texans were waging their life and death struggle against the Mexicans.  More than one hairbreadth escape did the old hunter have from Indians, desperadoes and wild beasts, but he finally got to the neighborhood of San Antonio, and fell in with another adventurer, a bee-hunter, also on his way to join the Texans.  They soon learned that a great Mexican army was marching on San Antonio, and that the defenders of the place had gathered in the old mission called “The Alamo.”  There were only a hundred and fifty of them, while the Mexican army numbered four thousand; but they had made up their minds to hold the place, a mere shell, utterly unable to withstand artillery, or even a regular and well-directed assault.  It was plain enough that to attempt to defend the place against such an overwhelming force was desperate in the extreme, but Crockett and his companion kept straight on, and were soon inside The Alamo.  A few days later, Santa Anna’s great army camped around it.

In command of The Alamo garrison was Colonel Travis, a young man of twenty-five; an Alabaman, admitted to the bar there, but driven out of his native state by financial troubles, and casting in his lot with the Texas revolutionists, among whom he soon acquired considerable influence.  The third of the trio, Colonel Bowie, was a native of Georgia, but had settled in Louisiana, where, nine years before, he had been a participant in a celebrated affray.  Two gentlemen,