At one o’clock by the stars (for the sky had cleared at last) the order to rest for two hours was given. The infantry dropped in their tracks, Ernest and Jim and the other horsemen simply tumbled from their saddles. And here concealed in the fragrant evergreens the little army panted and shivered and dozed.
“After this war’s over,” mused Jim, drowsily, huddling under his wet blanket beside Ernest, “I’m going to change my clothes. A fellow likes a clean shirt and dry socks once in a while! Maybe to-morrow I’ll capture an officer and take his. Those Mexican officers dress fine.”
“Guess Sion and Leo are getting all the action they want, this time,” stammered Ernest, with teeth chattering. “But we’re lucky that none of us had to stay with that camp guard, back at the bayou crossing.”
“Those fellows certainly did hate to stay,” agreed Jim. “They’re liable to have to fight the whole Mexican army, though, if there’s a retreat. Or Cos may attack ’em on his way in.”
Ernest dropped into an uneasy sleep. He dreamed that he was home and that his mother was trying to tuck him in bed with covers which were too short!
The easternmost stars were just paling when the camp was aroused by orders to fall in again. Stiffly all obeyed. Ernest had faint recollection of the usual three taps of the drum, from the general’s quarters, as first signal—but he had found it very hard to obey them. However, now the officers were urging—the general’s voice was echoing through the grayness—somebody said that he had slept with the coil of cannon rope for a pillow—and into the cold saddles on the hunched horses must the cavalry climb.
“Hee-yaw!” yawned Jim. “We’re riding, anyhow. Only the cavalry and the high-up officers have horses. That’s tough on some of the officers who’ve been a-straddle all the way from the Colorado.”
“Wonder if we ever eat again,” responded Ernest, who had a woefully hollow feeling.
“Sure thing,” asserted Jim. “The general, he’ll just take us in sight of those Mexicans cooking breakfast—so we can smell the coffee, you know; then he won’t have to give a single order, but you’ll see us charge a-whooping, for the kettles!”
Camp had been made without supper. The march was made without breakfast. Nobody could accuse the general, now, of dilly-dallying!