Loudly then the hills re-echoed With our answer to his call, But a deeper echo sounded In the bosoms of us all. For the lands of wide Breadalbane, Not a man who heard him speak Would that day have left the battle. Burning eye and flushing cheek Told the clansmen's fierce emotion, And they harder drew their breath; For their souls were strong within them, Stronger than the grasp of death. Soon we heard a challenge-trumpet Sounding in the pass below, And the distant tramp of horses, And the voices of the foe: Down we crouched amid the bracken, Till the Lowland ranks drew near, Panting like the hounds in summer, When they scent the stately deer. From the dark defile emerging, Next we saw the squadrons come, Leslie's foot and Leven's troopers Marching to the tuck of drum; Through the scattered wood of birches, O'er the broken ground and heath, Wound the long battalion slowly, Till they gained the field beneath; Then we bounded from our covert.-- Judge how looked the Saxons then, When they saw the rugged mountain Start to life with armèd men! Like a tempest down the ridges, Swept the hurricane of steel, Rose the slogan of Macdonald-- Flashed the broadsword of Locheill! Vainly sped the withering volley 'Mongst the foremost of our band-- On we poured until we met them, Foot to foot, and hand to hand. Horse and man went down like drift-wood When the floods are black at Yule, And their carcasses are whirling In the Garry's deepest pool. Horse and man went down before us-- Living foe there tarried none On the field of Killiecrankie, When that stubborn fight was done!