The words had hardly passed his lips when there was the blare of a trumpet, followed by another and another, with the result that it seemed as if a nest of hornets had been disturbed, for a loud buzzing filled the darkening air, leaders’ voices rose giving orders, and there was a murmur punctuated, so to speak, by the clinking of armour, the rattle of weapons against shields, and the whinnying and squealing of horses, accompanied by angry cries from those who were harnessing them again.
“And I was so tired, Serge,” said Marcus, as he finished hurrying on his armour. “What does it mean?”
“An alarm or an advance; I can’t say which, boy. But be smart. We may get our orders at any moment.”
“I shall be ready directly. There, he has done harnessing the horses. Down, Lupe! Quiet! Keep away from their heads.”
The dog crouched in front, just beyond the reach of one of the horses, waiting patiently for what was next to come.
“Ah, you are the best off, after all,” said Marcus, “You just get up on all four legs, give yourself a shake, and you are ready for anything.”
The dog looked up, gave the speaker a friendly growl, and then let his head rest again upon his extended paws, while Marcus walked to the side of his chariot horses to pat and caress their arched necks, friendly advances which were now accepted by the savage little animals without any attempts to bite, while he could pass behind them now without having to beware of a lightning-like kick.
“All ready?” growled Serge, who had just loosened the throwing spears he had laid in the bottom of the chariot.
“Oh yes, I am ready; but can’t I lie down and sleep till the order comes to advance?”
“No, you can’t,” growled Serge. “A soldier shouldn’t want to sleep when he is waiting for the trumpet to sound.”