The adjutant and his bugler found that the companies on the left were yet some distance to the rear. The former, while waiting for the companies to come up, dismounted to tighten his saddle-girth, while the latter busied himself looking for some signs of life in the enemy's trenches not two hundred yards ahead. His mule dropped his head in a dozing attitude. He suddenly appeared inspired, raised his head high in the air, looking toward the insurgent lines. Then, with a grunt, as if of satisfaction, elevated his chin, began working his huge ears backward and forward in a pumping motion, and set up a long-drawn "A-w-e ye! a-w-e ye! a-w-e ye! a-w-e ye!" in threatening tones, which sounded through the midnight air for miles around. The faithful animal had not finished his challenge when the deep voice of the Colonel rang out completely drowning it, giving commands for the charge. He flashed his saber, and gallantly led the only battalion on the line into the midst of thousands of dusky soldiers--he had heard the mule sound the charge. It was a brilliant victory. The town fell with but a single American casualty--that casualty left the bugler without a mount. "BULL'S-EYE" KELLEY AND THE FIRE-BUG. Where is there a soldier whose name is dry on the muster-rolls who has not heard of "Bull's-Eye" Kelley? Kelley gained his enviable name of "Bull's-Eye" by having spent twenty-two successive seasons on the target-range without ever making a "bull's-eye." As a reward for long and honest service--not for marksmanship--he was warranted a sergeant, and went with his regiment to the Philippines. While the regiment was doing garrison duty at one of the interior towns in Luzon, it was constantly harassed by the little rebels. One dark night in June they made a determined effort to drive the Americans out. The regiment had run short of officers, so this night Kelley was in command of his company. He was a strict disciplinarian--so much so that when out of his hearing the privates referred to him as the "Duke of Ireland." The night of this attack his orders were to keep his men lying flat on the ground and perfectly quiet. There was to be no talking, whispering, coughing, or smoking; or, as Kelley himself expressed it, "no nothin'" would be allowed. All sorts of insects, including lightning-bugs as big as incandescent lights, were singing and flying about, causing the men to put their hands and faces through a most unique series of gymnastics.