He took his supper with the general at
his headquarters. Colonel James and Cleary ate with them, for Cleary
was still true to his friend's fortunes and determined to follow him
everywhere. After an evening of smoking and chatting, Sam, Cleary, and
Colonel James bade the general good-night and started for their
quarters, which lay in the same direction. It was a gorgeous moonlight
night, such a night as only the tropics can produce, and they sauntered
slowly along the mountain road, enjoying the scene.
"There is a question that I have been wanting to ask you, Colonel,"
said Sam to Colonel James as they walked on together. "What do you
think of darkies as soldiers? I have never seen much of them, and as
you have a negro regiment, you must know all about it."
"Well, the truth is, Major," responded the colonel, "I wouldn't have
my opinion get out for a good deal, but I'll tell you in confidence.
They make much better soldiers than white men, that's the long and
short of it."
"How can you explain that? It's most surprising!" cried Sam.
"Well, they're more impressible, for one thing. You can work them up
into any kind of passion you want to. Then they're more submissive to
discipline; they're used to being ordered about and kicked and cuffed,
and they don't mind it. Besides, they're accustomed from their low
social position to be subordinate to superiors, and rather expect it
than not.
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