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Updated: September 29, 2025
When the Colonel cast the Drum-Horse of the White Hussars, there was nearly a mutiny. The officers were angry, the Regiment were furious, and the Bandsmen swore like troopers. The Drum-Horse was going to be put up to auction public auction to be bought, perhaps, by a Parsee and put into a cart!
But don't mention the matter to the White Hussars. I happen to know something about it, because I prepared the Drum-Horse for his resurrection. He did not take kindly to the skeleton at all. In the daytime, when she moved about me, In the night, when she was sleeping at my side, I was wearied, I was wearied of her presence.
But don't mention the matter to the White Hussars. I happened to know something about it, because I prepared the Drum-Horse for his resurrection. He did not take kindly to the skeleton at all. Narrow as the womb, deep as the Pit, and dark as the heart of a man. Sonthal Miner's Proverb. "A weaver went out to reap but stayed to unravel the corn-stalks. Ha! Ha! Ha! Is there any sense in a weaver?"
No one liked to run; but no one cared to go forward till the Colonel made a movement and laid hold of the skeleton's foot. The Band had halted some distance away, and now came back slowly. The Colonel called it, individually and collectively, every evil name that occurred to him at the time; for he had set his hand on the bosom of the Drum-Horse and found flesh and blood.
Again he spoke very slowly, 'Where is OUR horse? There is but one horse in the White Hussars, and his portrait hangs outside the door of the mess-room. He is the piebald drum-horse, the king of the regimental band, that served the regiment for seven-and- thirty years, and in the end was shot for old age. Half the mess tore the thing down from its place and thrust it into the man's hands.
The Band, a disorganized mob, tore past, and at it's heels labored the Drum-Horse the dead and buried Drum-Horse with the jolting, clattering skeleton. Hogan-Yale whispered softly to Martyn: "No wire will stand that treatment," and the Band, which had doubled like a hare, came back again.
Some of the troopers shaded their eyes with their hands and said "What the mischief 'as that there 'orse got on 'im?" In another minute they heard a neigh that every soul horse and man in the Regiment knew, and saw, heading straight toward the Band, the dead Drum-Horse of the White Hussars!
The man could not explain how, like a homing pigeon, he had found his way to his own old mess again. Of what he had suffered or seen he knew nothing. He cringed before Dirkovitch as instinctively as he had pressed the spring of the candlestick, sought the picture of the drum-horse, and answered to the toast of the Queen.
The Farrier-Sergeant said that he knew the Drum-Horse's feet as well as he knew his own; but he was silenced when he saw the regimental number burned in on the poor stiff, upturned near-fore. Thus was the Drum-Horse of the White Hussars buried; the Farrier-Sergeant grumbling.
The next day was a Thursday, and the men, hearing that Yale was going to shoot the Drum-Horse in the evening, determined to give the beast a regular regimental funeral a finer one than they would have given the Colonel had he died just then.
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