“Front!”
The eyes gazed straight before.
A man on horseback, who must have been the colonel, sat out in front.
“Support—arms!”
“Carry—arms!”
“Right shoulder—shift!”
“Shoulder—arms!”
“Present—arms!”
The band and field music marched up and down, playing bravely. The two ranks stood motionless, the soldiers as stiff as ramrods, their muskets held perpendicularly in front of them. Why, compared with these Regulars the Mexican Regulars, even the famous Eleventh Infantry of the Line, were only slouchers.
The music resumed position; the drums rolled, a bugler lilted a kind of call.