"Yes, I know him," replied Phil. "I thought I knew him when he rode over the first ridge, but there can be no doubt now. It is our old friend de Armijo."
"It is he," said Breakstone, "and it is a safe thing to say that no man was ever more stuffed with pride, vanity, and conceit than he is now. Let's press forward and see him as he passes. Maybe, too, we can hear what he and General Taylor say."
De Armijo rode up the ravine at the edge of which Phil and his comrades stood. He saw them, and his look was not one of friendship.
"Good morning, Señor de Armijo," said the irreverent Bill Breakstone, "have you come to announce the surrender of Santa Anna's army?"
The Mexican glared, but he made no answer, riding on in silence toward General Taylor. He was magnificently mounted, his uniform was heavy with gold lace, and a small gold-hilted sword hung at his side. Evidently the nephew of the governor of New Mexico was not ashamed of himself. It was also evident that the wound Phil had given him was very slight. An officer met de Armijo, and they saluted each other with punctilious courtesy. The Mexican produced a note which was handed to General Taylor.
Old Rough and Ready did not dismount, but rested the note on his saddle-horn and read it. This note, signed by General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, President of the Mexican Republic and Commander-in-Chief of its armies, was written in rounded sentences. It stated that the American army was surrounded by twenty thousand men and could not possibly escape. Hence Santa Anna demanded General Taylor's immediate and unconditional surrender. "I will treat you well," he added in generous conclusion.
Phil thought that he could see the white hair around old Rough and Ready's temples fairly bristle with defiance. He did see him lean over and say to de Armijo: "Tell him to come and take me." But the next instant he called to Middleton and dictated to him a short answer, more polite but of the same tenor. He looked over it once, folded it, and handed it to de Armijo.
"Take that to your master."
De Armijo saluted with all the pride and haughtiness of his race. He would have liked well a few minutes to look about and take note of the enemy's army for his general, but they had brought him up a narrow ravine, and they allowed him no chance. Now Middleton rode back with him that the Americans might not be lacking in courtesy, and Phil and his comrades again stood by as they passed. De Armijo merely gave them a malignant glance, but as he entered the plain that low rolling sound, almost like a roar, burst forth again from the army. Nearly every soldier had divined the nature of the errand, and nearly every one also had divined the nature, of old Rough and Ready's reply.
Phil watched de Armijo and Middleton riding onward under the white flag toward the gorgeous tent where Santa Anna and his generals were gathered. He saw Middleton disappear and, after awhile, come riding back again. All these demands and refusals, ridings and returns took time, and the two armies meanwhile rested on their arms. The afternoon came, and the sun still blazed on on a scene of peace. For awhile it reminded Phil in many of its aspects of a vast spectacle, a panorama. Then he saw clouds of dust rise on both the east and west wings of the Mexican army. Horsemen moved in columns, fluid sunlight shifting and changing in colors flowing over lances and escopetas. He also saw horses drawing cannon forward, and the bronze and steel of the guns glittered.