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Updated: June 11, 2025
The Panther made a long and critical examination of everything. "I'm thinkin'," he said, "that Cos stayed here three or four days. All the signs p'int that way. He was bound by the terms we gave him at San Antonio to go an' not fight ag'in, but he's shorely takin' his time about it. Look at these bones, will you? Now, Ned, you promisin' scout an' skirmisher, tell me what they are."
The power to drop and instantly resume the short rein also allows two hands to be occasionally used to the lance or carbine; a skirmisher therefore should have one rein tied up. A pulling horse may be ridden with one or both reins tied, also a restive horse; his usual mode of resistance is running back and rearing, because from fear of his falling backward chastisement usually ceases then.
Warner and Pennington were also resting from their long and exciting ride, but the sergeant, who seemed never to know fatigue, was already at work with his men. "Listen to those skirmishers," said Dick. "It sounds like the popping of corn at home on winter evenings, when I was a little boy." "But a lot more deadly," said Pennington. "I wouldn't like to be a skirmisher.
He was a felicitous skirmisher with a pen, and a man who could say happy things in a crisp, neat way.
But the greater force of fire arms requires, more than ever, that they be utilized. The role of the skirmisher becomes preeminently the destructive role; it is forced on every organization seriously engaged by the greater moral pressure of to-day which causes men to scatter sooner.
"Well, have you ever met a man who had lived after death?" the first speaker asked. "No. Have you ever met a man two hundred years old? If it comes to undeniable proof there is far more proof of ghosts than of bicentenarians." "Very well, then, I get out of it by saying that I don't believe in either." "And leave Metchnikoff in the lurch!" the light skirmisher reproached him.
The light skirmisher made a desperate effort to retrieve himself: "Then a few more books like his would restore the age of faith." A number of the Easy Chair's friends were sitting round the fire in the library of a country-house. The room was large and full of a soft, flattering light.
Nevertheless a dauntless heart beat in every breast, and they expected to hold that neck of land, which seemed to be a channel for the pursued, until the last fugitive was safe. Lying upon their faces, half supported by their elbows, they could load and fire whenever they saw a hostile figure in front of them. Again and again the pursuit of a skirmisher was driven back by these deadly riflemen.
Of all the people that ever went west that expedition was the most remarkable. A small boy in a big basket on the back of a jolly old man, who carried a cane in one hand, a rifle in the other; a black dog serving as scout, skirmisher and rear guard that was the size of it.
Guys was more the skirmisher, the sharpshooter, the reporter of the moment, than a creative master of his art. The street or the battle-field was his atelier; speed and grace and fidelity his chief claims to fame. He never practised his art within the walls of academies; the material he so vividly dealt with was the stuff of life.
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