“Sound the advance,” bade the general, curtly.
As Ned did so, he was answered by the bugles of the infantry, in similar call.
“Fours right—march!” The new band rode bravely to the front. Whirling his horse, the general, followed by his bugler, trotted briskly to take the lead. All the companies, forming fours, fell in one behind another, the swallow-tail cavalry guidons of white and red fluttering gaily in the breeze.
The new band blared in a tune. No “Garryowen” this time, but “The Girl I Left Behind Me.”
The hour was sad I left the maid,
A ling’ring farewell taking;
Her sighs and tears my steps delayed—
I thought her heart was breaking.
In hurried words her name I blessed,
I breathed the vows that bind me,
And to my heart in anguish pressed
The girl I left behind me.
Then to the east we bore away,
To win a name in story,
And there, where dawns the sun of day,
There dawned our sun of glory;
Both blazed in noon on Alna’s height,
When in the post assigned me
I shared the glory of that fight,
Sweet girl I left behind me.
Full many a name our banners bore—
It was a tune as inspiring as “Yankee Doodle,” but sweeter.
The expedition made a great sight. First rode a squad of the picked scouts—Delawares and white men—headed by Wild Bill clad in showy fringed buckskins. Scout “Pony Bill” Cody did not accompany. He was reserved to guide another detachment to Fort Hays.
After the line of scouts came the commanding officers and their staffs. General Hancock was only representing the department, to talk with the Indians, but he frequently dashed up and down the march, inspecting. He and General Smith made an active pair, prompt to criticize.