Turtle, who had brought about this confusion, "regretted the misfortune. It was all an accident—Beagle had fallen, and discomboberated the whole proceedings—accidents would occur on the field—and, in fact, he know'd a man shot down dead once in the ranks—he guess'd the movement had better be tried over; the stake, he thought, was a leetle too high."
The Squire said, "it was very discouragin'—the Hos-Guards down on the Susquehannas turned an angle the fust time tryin'—and on hosses, too. His fust wife, now dead and gone, know'd that, for she was thar—it was one of the simplest revolutions in all military tactics. He would like jist to know what a company would be good for, on a field-er battle, that couldn't turn an angle? He would jist like to know what they would do if they were following the enemy through a hilly country, if they couldn't turn an angle?—they'd all be butcher'd 'fore they could get round to the spot they'd started for. War was war—and the revolution ought to be did jist as if we were to-day fightin' for our liberties. He'd like to know what the Hos Guards would say if he should tell 'em that one of his sogers had fallen down turnin' an angle! He would throw up his commission afore he'd tell 'em any such thing."
Beagle said he "stumbled." "Stumbled!" roared the Squire. "You stumbled!—who ever heard of the Hos Guards stumblin'! Stumbled? by the great Bonyparte—that ain't swearin', Mr. Turtle—you'd be hung by the neck, sir, if you stumbled on the field-er battle—it's a hangin' offence, sir—a hangin' offence, sir. We are under martial law, sir, to-day, sir, and if it was war time, sir, I'd order you to be stretch'd, sir, in five minutes, sir, from that 'ere tree, sir—I'd show you war, sir—real war, sir! bloody war, sir!"
Turtle suggested that a lower stake had better be driven—or the outside angle of the fence would be still better, that would stand—they could walk round a fence corner, he knew.
Aunt Sonora "hop'd for massy-sakes they warn't a-goin' to come out of the field—they ought-er be fenced in—she thought it warn't safe!"
Mrs. Longbow, who had great confidence in her husband, said, "she needn't be alarm'd any, the capt'n would take care on 'em."
The Squire declared, "he wouldn't try any sich revolution over agin, but he thought they could march in platoons;" and thereupon he cried, "Company, form in pla-toons!"
Turtle said, "he wasn't any war character, and he didn't know what a platoon was, but he know'd Injun file."
"Well, Injun file, then," exclaimed the captain; and from Injun file, Longbow set them around into a hollow square, put the women in the centre, and he delivered to his troops the address of the day, with uncovered heads, and in the most affecting silence.
The address was a very patriotic production. The Squire drew heavily from the great revolutionary war to find inspiring materials to stimulate his forces. He told them, among other things, that his own grandfather was "wounded in the hip a-fightin' for his country, and that he draw'd a pension arterwards as long as he lived. He hop'd they'd all get ready for the great muster that was a-goin' to come off in a few weeks; for the gin'ral would be there, then, and a good deal was expected of the Puddleford company on that occasion." The Squire had forgotten the unfortunate blunders of the day, in his enthusiasm, or, at any rate, he did not allude to them, for he said, "he was proud of the soldier-like bearin' of his men, and the great respect they all seem'd to have for their capt'n—that their arms were not 'zactly accordin' to la'."