There came other bullets, singing, sighing.

Another bullet found that same line as the man sat there smoking.
Overhead were small birds, chirping, singing, twittering.

A long black line of crows passed, tumbling in the air, with much confusion of chatter and clangour of complaint that their harvest, too, had been disturbed.

They had been busy.

Why should men play this game when there were serious things of life?
The general played calmly, and ever the points and edges and fronts of his advance came on, pressing in toward the last row of the board, toward the line where lay the boys of Louisburg.