And in that same second we all together saw three red lights swinging by the corner.
"TIN!" said we, with one voice.

Tin means three, sahib, but it sounded rather like the scream of a shell that leaves on its journey.
My horse laid his ears back and dug his toes into the ground.

A trumpet sounded, and Colonel Kirby rose in his stirrups: "Outram's Own!" he yelled, "by squadrons on number One--" But the sahib would not be interested in the sequence of commands that have small meaning to those not familiar with them.

And who shall describe what followed?
Who shall tell the story of a charge into the night, at an angle, into massed regiments of infantry advancing one behind another at the double and taken by surprise?
The guns of both sides suddenly ceased firing.

Even as I used my spurs they ceased.