There were five thousand—infantry, artillery and cavalry—led by their bands. Their uniforms were dazzling: green and red, light blue and white, blue and red, whitish and red, red and yellow—many combinations, the officers being fairly covered with gilt and bright braid.
“Shuah, dey’s most all gin’rals an’ drum-majors,” Pompey exclaimed, admiring.
In comparison, the United States uniforms of plain navy blue and sky blue, with a little white and a little red and a little yellow and green, looked very business like—even the gold epaulets of the officers’ dress coats.
General Worth and General Landero severely saluted one another. General Landero drew aside with his staff. The whole Mexican army marched down between the two lines, and out beyond the end they were shown where to stack their muskets and deposit their belts and other equipment and the flags. A regiment of lancers, in green, with tall red caps and yellow cloaks, brought up the rear, on foot, to pile their lances.
Some of the Mexican soldiers looked sad; some looked rather glad to have the matter ended. They all were pledged by their officers not to take part in the war again, unless exchanged for American prisoners. Meanwhile they were permitted to go home.
“Reckon dey mought as well plow deir cohn,” Pompey chuckled. “’Case why? ’Case dar won’t be anybody to exchange ’em fo’.”
VIII
INSPECTING THE WILD MOHAWKS
After the surrender the army camp was moved out of the sand hills and to the beach. That was a great relief—to be away from the swamps and thickets and dust and the thousands of small flies and millions of fleas. Some of the clever officers had been greasing themselves all over with pork rind and sleeping in canvas bags drawn tightly around their necks; but even this did not work.