‘Stables,’ a very pretty call, Dawes (who had only joined a few months) had great difficulty in sounding. He kept getting horribly flat on one note, and ‘Hooky-beak,’ as the boys called Linham, grew crimson with rage. ‘You’ve no more ear for music than a pariah dog, Dawes!’ he cried. ‘Now, sound it again.’ Trumpeter Dawes did so, but again was flat on the high note. ‘Squeeze it--squeeze it, you one-lunged bandicoot,’ cried the sergeant; and Dawes endeavoured to do so, but made a worse hash of it than before. ‘Brittain, get out the cards,’ cried Linham; and from a cupboard Brittain got out some great cards about two feet wide and of different lengths, on which the various calls were printed in huge notes. ‘Hang up the “Stable” call,’ cried Linham. Brittain did so, and Linham pointed to it with his stick. ‘Now, sound it, you blubber-lipped walrus, and if you don’t get the B flat this time I’ll put you back with the raw recruits!’ Jack looked at the card hanging up and saw that the note the unfortunate trumpeter could not sound was not B flat, but D, a very awkward note to produce on the trumpet, and one which is used only in the ‘Stable’ call. The sergeant waved his stick, a curious-looking souvenir of his Indian service. It was made of ebony or some other black wood, the end being carved into the shape of an elephant’s head, having two long, white ivory tusks stuck in, which gave it a very realistic appearance. Jack had noticed that the sergeant, while the trumpeters had been sounding, had waved his ebony stick about in a most wonderful way, as though beating time, but with motions that would have driven a bandmaster crazy and that would have puzzled any body of musicians. Before Dawes began to sound, the sergeant cried, ‘Now, keep in time. I’ll count;’ and he gave his stick a preliminary flourish like a trooper making ‘cut two’ with his sword, and causing Dawes to jump back, the ferule of the stick having whizzed within a few inches of his nose. ‘Stand still! How dare you move!’ yelled Linham. ‘Now, “Stables”--prepare to sound;’ and Dawes stood straight as a poker and brought the mouthpiece of his trumpet to his mouth. ‘Sound!’ Dawes made a fair start on the low C, the sergeant standing in front of him, waving his stick frantically and counting aloud. His method of counting was peculiar. He began, ‘One, two, three, four, five,’ and so on, and proceeded up to about thirty-five, getting in anything from three to five beats in a bar. As the call was in three-four time, Jack had the greatest difficulty to keep from laughing; and when on the fatal D Dawes broke down, and Linham yelled, ‘Wrong, wrong, wrong! you’re sounding B flat again!’ he had to snigger.