"Last alias, Mongrel."

"A good one, too. I was going to say, you are better educated than
you have been pretending to be. I like cultured society, and I
shall cultivate your acquaintance. Now as to Shekels, whenever you
want to know about any private thing that is going on at this post
or in White Cloud's camp or Thunder-Bird's, he can tell you; and if
you make friends with him he'll be glad to, for he is a born
gossip, and picks up all the tittle-tattle. Being the whole
Seventh Cavalry's reptile, he doesn't belong to anybody in
particular, and hasn't any military duties; so he comes and goes as
he pleases, and is popular with all the house cats and other
authentic sources of private information. He understands all the
languages, and talks them all, too. With an accent like gritting
your teeth, it is true, and with a grammar that is no improvement
on blasphemy--still, with practice you get at the meat of what he
says, and it serves. . . Hark! That's the reveille. . . .

[THE REVEILLE]

"Faint and far, but isn't it clear, isn't it sweet? There's no
music like the bugle to stir the blood, in the still solemnity of
the morning twilight, with the dim plain stretching away to nothing
and the spectral mountains slumbering against the sky. You'll hear
another note in a minute--faint and far and clear, like the other
one, and sweeter still, you'll notice. Wait . . . listen. There
it goes! It says, 'IT IS I, SOLDIER--COME!' . . .

[SOLDIER BOY'S BUGLE CALL]