"What you got there, boy?"
"A drum. Found it on the way up."
"Mexican drum, huh? Going to keep it?"
"Guess so. Can't I?"
"Sure you can. You may get a chance to be a drummer. We can fix it over. But hurrah! Didn't we do the business, though? Took the works just as Fuss and Feathers said. Never a hitch. Pillow was licked, at first, but that made no difference; nobody expected him to do more than hold the enemy's attention. Twiggs and Riley's brigade are cleaning up the country west, and the dragoons are right on Santa Anna's heels. Now we won't stop again till we're in the Halls of Montezuma. There's the long roll for the First. Good-by. We're moving. Hang on to that drum."
The First Division had been directed to march for the road and support the Riley brigade in pursuit of the Mexicans. It was now mid-afternoon. Reports came back that the dragoons were pressing hard down the road, and that the Mexicans were too long-legged for the infantry. Camp was ordered for the night, just beyond the little village of Cerro Gordo, in the pass.
General Santa Anna's headquarters camp had been here also. It and the village had been seized by the Shields Volunteers and they were highly excited. They had found Santa Anna's carriage—a large gilded coach, patterned after the State coach of Napoleon Bonaparte. But General Santa Anna was not in it. He had cut the team loose and had fled upon one of the mules.
