A true account of their horrible sufferings would beggar all description; they became so weak and utterly helpless that half a dozen Mexicans, well mounted, could have destroyed them all.  Yet, miserable as they were, and under the necessity of conciliating the Indians, they could not forego their piratical and thieving propensities.  They fell upon a small village of the Wakoes, whose warriors and hunters were absent, and, not satisfied with taking away all the eatables they could carry, they amused themselves with firing the Indian stores and shooting the children, and did not leave until the village was reduced to a heap of burning ashes.  This act of cowardice sealed the fate of the expedition, which was so constantly harassed by the Wakoe warriors, and had lost already so many scalps, that afterwards meeting with a small party of Mexicans, they surrendered to them, that they might escape the well deserved and unrelenting vengeance of the warlike Wakoes.

Such was the fate of the Texan expedition; but there is another portion of the history which has been much talked of in the United States; I mean the history of their captivity and sufferings, while on their road from Santa Fe to Mexico.  Mr. Daniel Webster hath made it a government question, and Mr. Pakenham, the British Ambassador in Mexico, has employed all the influence of his own position to restore to freedom the half-dozen of Englishmen who had joined the expedition.  Of course, they knew nothing of the circumstances, except from the report of the Texans themselves.  Now, it is but just that the Mexicans’ version should be heard also.  The latter is the true one—­at least, so far as I can judge by what I saw, what I heard upon the spot, and from some Mexican documents yet In my possession.

The day before their capture the Texans, who for the last thirteen days had suffered all the pangs of hunger, came suddenly upon a flock of several thousand sheep, belonging to the Mexican government.  As usual, the flock was under the charge of a Mexican family, living in a small covered waggon, in which they could remove from spot to spot, shifting the pasture-ground as required.  In that country but very few individuals are employed to keep the largest herds of animals; but they are always accompanied by a number of noble dogs, which appear to be particularly adapted to protect and guide the animals.  These dogs do not run about, they never bark or bite, but, on the contrary, they will walk gently up to any one of the flock that happens to stray, take it carefully by the ear, and lead it back to its companions.  The sheep do not show the least fear of these dogs, nor is there any occasion for it.  These useful guardians are a cross of the Newfoundland and St. Bernard breed, of a very large size, and very sagacious.