They rode directly toward San Antonio, and, as the distance was very short, they soon saw Mexican sentinels on horseback, some carrying lances and some with rifles or muskets.

They would withdraw gradually at the appearance of the Texans, keeping just out of gunshot, but always watching these dangerous horsemen whom they had learned to fear.

The Texans were near enough to see from some points the buildings of the town, and the veins of the Ring Tailed Panther swelled with ambition.
"Ned," he said to the boy who rode by his side, "if Bowie would only give the word we would gallop right into town, smashing through the Mexicans." "We might gallop into it," said Ned, laughing, "but we couldn't gallop out again.

No, no, Panther, we mustn't forget that the Mexicans can fight.

Besides, Bowie isn't going to give the word." "No, he ain't," said the Ring Tailed Panther with a sigh, "an' we won't get the chance to make one of the finest dashes ever heard of in war." "He who doesn't dash but rides away will live to dash another day," said Obed White oracularly.
They rode on in a half circle about the town, keeping a fairly close array, every man sitting his saddle erect and defiant.