Once more the single sound as of many sounds.
"Charge with—Cartridge!"
The watchful eyes of the Indians narrowed.
"Draw—Rammer!"
Once more the loud, sharp, clash of metal rising to a menace of emphasis with the succeeding,—
"Ram down—Cartridge!"
"Return—Rammer!"
And as hard upon the clatter of the ramrods, slipping back into their grooves, came the orders—
"Shoulder—Firelock!"
"Advance—Arms!" the Cherokees drew a long breath as of the relief from the tension of suspense. They were evidently seeking to discern the utility of these strange military gyrations. This the Indians, although always alert to perceive and adopt any advantage in arms or military method, despite their characteristic tenacity to their ancient customs in other matters, could not descry. They had, even at this early day, almost discarded the bow and arrow for the firelock, wherever or however it could be procured, but the elaborate details of the drill baffled them, and they regarded it as in some sort a mystery. Their own discipline had always sufficed, and their military manœuvres, their march in single file or widely extended lines, their skulking approach, stalking under cover from tree to tree, were better suited, as even some of their enemies thought, for military movements, than tactical precision, to the broken character of the country and the dense forest of the trackless wilderness.