Taylor was so short that only the men near him could see where he was pointing. They turned first, and then in an ever-widening ring the men in the farther reaches of the crowd turned to look at the long, blue-clad line stretched behind them like a chain.
Raoul heard resignation in the militiamen's voices.
"Boys, I'm for the flatboats."
"Me too. I signed up to fight Injuns, not Americans."
A man called out, "Hell, Colonel, we're all Uncle Sam's men."
Taylor smiled, reached up to settle his mottled hat on his head, and said, "Then I will be proud to lead you."
He strode through the assembly.
At the edge of the crowd he turned and raised his voice. "Officers, assemble your men. We'll take the troops over first, then the horses. I want everyone on the other side by noon."
Taylor walked over to Raoul, squinted at him and sniffed audibly.
"You look like the backside of hell, sir. You been drinking this early in the day?"