The elegant James Bowie was sitting on the verandah of the
Veramendi House, calmly smoking. His fair, handsome face,
clear blue eyes and mild manners, gave no indication of the
gigantic physical strength and tremendous coolness and courage
of the man who never tolerated an enemy in his presence.
Burleson and Travis were talking under the shade of a China
tree, and there were little groups of American soldiers on
every street; this was what he saw, and yet a terrible sense
of insecurity oppressed him.
The city, moreover, was not settling to its usual business,
though there were many preparations for public and private
entertainments. After passing Colonel Bowie, he met David
Burnett. The shrewd statesman from New Jersey had a shadow
upon his face. He stopped Doctor Worth and spoke frankly to
him. "We are in greater danger now than when we were under
fire," he said. "Santa Anna will come on us like a lion from
the swellings of Jordan. I wish Houston knew our position as
it really is. We must either have more men to defend
this city or we must blow up the Alamo and be ready to
leave it at a moment's notice."
"Why were such favorable terms given to General Cos and his
troops? I cannot understand it."
"I will tell you an amazing fact. When Cos ran up that white
flag on the Alamo, we had not a single round of ammunition
left; complaisance was necessary until Cos made over to us the
Mexican arms, ammunition, property and money.
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