Nay, there seemed to be two or more shouts raised together,--if one might judge from a confusion in the sound.
To this effect the sergeant and the nearest men were speaking under their breath, when Joe and I came up.

After another moment's listening, Joe (who was a good judge) agreed, and Mr.Wopsle (who was a bad judge) agreed.

The sergeant, a decisive man, ordered that the sound should not be answered, but that the course should be changed, and that his men should make towards it "at the double." So we slanted to the right (where the East was), and Joe pounded away so wonderfully, that I had to hold on tight to keep my seat.
It was a run indeed now, and what Joe called, in the only two words he spoke all the time, "a Winder." Down banks and up banks, and over gates, and splashing into dikes, and breaking among coarse rushes: no man cared where he went.

As we came nearer to the shouting, it became more and more apparent that it was made by more than one voice.

Sometimes, it seemed to stop altogether, and then the soldiers stopped.