“Huzzah, huzzah, huzzah!”
The column actually quickened pace over the wet brush and lava rocks, with faces flushed by excitement. The sun beams touched the tips of the lava cones—and see! Away off there, where the smoke cloud swirled in the morning breeze, the Stars and Stripes gleamed from the top of a hill. The firing still persisted, lessened by distance, as if the Mexicans were being pursued northward.
Here came General Worth, splashing recklessly down the rough trail, his horse lathered with sweat, his dark, handsome face shining as he waved his hat.
“Contreras is taken. Halt your column, colonel.” Then his face stiffened. “What’s this, sir? The orders were to leave the knapsacks on a forced march. Now instead of being fresh for a hard day’s fight my men are broken down already! This is no way to bring soldiers upon the field. Counter-march, sir, as soon as possible, to our old position, and await further orders to advance on the enemy. Deposit the knapsacks there and let the men rest, sir.”
He spoke loudly and angrily. Colonel Garland answered not a word, but whitened and saluted. The general had been heard by half the brigade. They gave him a cheer. He was a leader to be depended upon when it was a matter of fighting. Rather nervous, beforehand, but a reliable commander in the field.
Now for San Antonio, no doubt. Back they were marched, through the mud, five miles—and every foot of the way they feared that the Second Brigade might be in ahead of them, after all. But it was not. It was only under arms. They exchanged cheers with it, as grimy and tired and hungry they plodded by. Jerry saw Hannibal standing, drum slung, in the field-music ranks of the Eighth, and reported to him with a flourish of the arm.
At the old camping place, near the big barn, the First Brigade took time to swallow hot coffee, scrape some of the mud off, and dry in the warm sunshine. But all too soon orders were given to fall in, with blanket rolls, and with two days’ rations of beef and bread in the haversacks. The lieutenants and first sergeants passed along behind the ranks, inspecting every cartridge box, weeding out the cartridges that looked wet, and inserting fresh ones. The loads were withdrawn from the muskets; dry loads were rammed home. Serious business was ahead.
The ranks were closed. The regimental commanders made short speeches to their men. Major Francis Lee addressed the Fourth.
“Men,” he said, “we are going into battle. The First Division has the honor of forcing San Antonio from the front, to open the road for the heavy artillery, while the Pillow new regiments are taking it in reverse or at the rear. But they have the longer way to come, from Contreras, and the First Division must get in first. Then we shall push right on to Churubusco and join the fight there.”
“Huzzah! Huzzah!”