"When they led their steeds out of the corral an' formed on the cavalry prade ground, every soul in the post, officers, sogers, apache injins, dog robbers an' laundresses was there to see the doin's. "They led them bronks out an' played one chune, a-standin' at their heads, an' barrin' a few of them what pulled back an' got loose from the men, they stood the racket all right. "Then the drum major, a-ridin' a white hoss, trots out to the front of them, waves his baton, an' gives the command, 'Prepare to mount.' "Ivery man, accordin' to the latest tactics, grabs a handful of mane, in his left hand, an' his reins an' the saddle pommel wid his right, his instruments a-hangin' to his anatemy by straps or slings. "When they gits the word 'mount,' they all swings up into their saddles somehow, some of them fat old musicians clamberin' up more like loadin' a sack of bran than anything else in all the world. "The chap what played the bass drum, he bowed up when it come to tryin' to use his big drum, an' so they compromised on a pair of kittle drums, wan strapped to each side of the saddle horn. "Them kittle drums looked for all the world like a pair of twenty-gallon water kaigs on a pack saddle. "The horse, he eyed the load on his back sort of suspicious-like, an' lets the drummer git settled down into his saddle wid a drumstick in each wan of his two hands, but keepin' his ears a-workin' like a couple of wig-wag signal flags. "Finally, when every wan was safely on top, an' the horses standin' fairly quiet, the drum major he waves his stick, an' wid a sweep of his arms, gives the signal to play. "An' right there the fun began. The first rap the drummer give wid his drumsticks was too much for his horse, an' wid wan wild look at them two great soup kittles a-hangin' onto his back, an' wid the roar of them in his ears, he jist hung his head down, an' began some of the scientifickest buckin' an' pitchin' you ever seen. "Bustin' through the band, wid them two kittles a-wavin' an' a-thumpin' on his back, the drummer's horse had little trouble in incitin' several more of them to the same line of conduct, an' in about two minutes half the horses in the outfit were a-buckin' an' a-cavortin' around like very divils. "The kittle drummer an' the Swiss gent, what played the tubey--an' him a-settin' there in the middle of them great silvery coils like some prehistoric monster--they went through that bunch of wild-eyed Dutch musicians, like two shooting stars. "The drummer tried hard to stay on top of his load, but what wid them two great copper tubs a-knockin' an' a-thumpin' away on his horse's withers, a-barkin' his shins an' knees wid every jump, an' a-floppin' like two big buzzards' wings, 'twas no disgrace that he couldn't stay there, him bein' no bronco buster, but jist a Dutch bandsman.