Number four bring forward the ammunition packs.

No, leave the others where they are; move lively, men!" He watched them swing like magic into formation, their dust-begrimed faces lighting up with animation.

They knew their officer, and this meant business.
"Unsling carbines--load!" Weir, the veteran soldier, glanced down that steady line of ready troopers, and then back to Brant's face.

"Do you mean it?
Are you going up those bluffs?
Good Heavens, man, it will mean a court-martial." "Custer commands the Seventh.

I command the pack-train," said Brant.
"His orders are to bring up the packs.