The place was seething with fire and smoke, but above it still floated the banner upon which was written in great letters the word, "Texas." The Mexicans, pressing forward in dense masses, poured in cannon balls and musket balls at every opening.

Half the Texans were gone, but the others never ceased to fire with their rifles.

Within that raging inferno they could hardly see one another for the smoke, but they were all animated by the same purpose, to fight to the death and to carry as many of their foes with them as they could.
Evans, who had commanded the cannon, rushed for the magazine to blow up the building.

They had agreed that if all hope were lost he should do so, but he was killed on his way by a bullet, and the others went on with the combat.
Near the entrance to the church stood a great figure swinging a clubbed rifle.

His raccoon skin cap was lost, and his eyes burned like coals of fire in his swarthy face.