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Updated: May 27, 2025
The excitement, the noise, the bugle's note and beat of drum, the roar of artillery, the shriek of shell, the volley of musketry, the "zip" of bullet or "ping" of spent ball, the orderly movement of masses of men, the shouting of orders, the waving of battle-flags all these things inflame the imagination, stir the blood, and stimulate men to heroic actions.
Hurrah for Collins." I left Mr. Risley's comfortable home before noon the next day, and followed the shores of Winyah Bay towards the sea. Near Battery White, on the right shore, in the pine forests, was the birth-place of Marion, the brave patriot of the American revolution, whose bugle's call summoned the youth of those days to arms.
He told her, "I wouldn't have hurt 'em for anything!" There was a little silence. "Well, good-bye!" he said at last. "Good-bye!" He walked toward the door past the old man, who was scolding at the vanishing figure of the corporal. The captain looked back. She had remained there watching him. At the bugle's order, the troopers standing beside their horses swung briskly into the saddle.
Pursuant to his promise, at the bugle's signal Delme entered the mess room; and the Colonel immediately introduced him to the assembled officers. To his disappointment, for he felt curious to see one, who had exercised such an influence over his brother, Delancey was not amongst them.
Those on the shore, after the bugle's sad refrain had been silenced, gave the departing adventurers a last cheer, and a wave of their campaign hats. Over the water sounds carry unusually clear; and Thad and his mates smiled when they distinctly heard Step-hen bawling from the interior of the tent where he had his sleeping quarters: "Hey, you fellers, which one of you hid my coat?
I scarcely knew whether to envy or commiserate their apathy. The night at last passed away. The soldiers started to their feet at the sound of the bugle's call, a hasty meal was taken, baggage mules were laden, the men fell into their ranks, and the order to march was given.
I declare to ye that Pontius Pilate, a man dead two hundred years, dragged up with the lake slime coverin' him and fishes wrigglin' inside of him widout eyes, and in the discomposition of the body, sits there, sir, and washes his hands in the bowl I hold for him on Good Fridays. 'Twas so commanded." Clearly, the matter had progressed far beyond the scope of the Bugle's local column.
O! sprung from the kings who in Islay kept state, Proud chiefs of Clan Ranald, Glengarry, and Sleat! Combine like three streams from one mountain of snow, And resistless in union rush down on the foe! True son of Sir Even, undaunted Lochiel, Place thy targe on thy shoulder and burnish thy steel! Rough Keppoch, give breath to thy bugle's bold swell, Till far Coryarrick resound to the knell!
The officer forced an amazed croak out of his throat by way of a command, and on the hush within the rotunda the clarion of the bugle rang out. It echoed in the high arches. Its sharp notes cut into the clamor outdoors. Morrison recognized a voice that was keyed to a pitch almost as high as the bugle's strains. "Hold your yawp! Don't you hear that?" Lanigan screamed.
The jingling clank of sabers grew louder to the listeners' ears, through the rumble of pounding hoofs; a bugle's note came winnowing across the fields, and Virgie leaned forward with a confidential whisper to her doll: "Susan Jemima, I wouldn't tell anybody else no, not for anything but I cert'n'y am awful scared!"
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