Your troops can't move, or stop to water, without sounding their bugles to tell the Indians where they are.

In the morning, all day, and at night, it is toot, toot with their infernal horns, and the reds know just where to find 'em.

One of our Texan Ranger bands will travel a hundred miles and you'll not hear noise enough to wake a coyote from them all.

These Black Hillers travel slow to-day.

They're sore-headed from their spree, I reckon." "They deserve to be.