But he stopped laughing. It was no time for play. There was hard work ahead. Those six white soldiers in front of the fort were ready to attack. And there were more coming.
"Load!" he commanded.
Each little soldier took up a snowball.
Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat.
The drums sounded nearer now.
Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat.
Around the house came the sound of the drum.
Over the walls of the fort they peeked—very carefully.
There was a man marching. He looked something like the Toyman. But could it be? No, for he was so changed. The man had a horn around his neck, and a feather in his hat, and his face was stern. He was whistling "Yankee Doodle." It sounded like a fife, and all the time he was beating the drum with all his might.
Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat.