summoning
forth, each with his appropriate pibroch, his chieftain and clan. The
mountaineers, rousing themselves from their couch under the canopy of heaven,
with the hum and bustle of a confused and irregular multitude, like bees alarmed
and arming in their hives, seemed to possess all the pliability of movement
fitted to execute military manoeuvres. Their motions appeared spontaneous and
confused, but the result was order and regularity; so that a general must have
praised the conclusion, though a martinet might have ridiculed the method by
which it was attained.
    The sort of complicated medley created by the hasty arrangements of the
various clans under their respective banners, for the purpose of getting into
the order of march, was in itself a gay and lively spectacle. They had no tents
to strike, having generally, and by choice, slept upon the open field, although
the autumn was now waning, and the nights began to be frosty. For a little
space, while they were getting into order, there was exhibited a changing,
fluctuating, and confused appearance of waving tartans and floating plumes, and
of banners displaying the proud gathering word of Clanronald, Ganion Coheriga
(Gainsay who dares); Loch-Sloy, the watchword of the Mac-Farlanes; Forth,
fortune, and fill the fetters, the motto of the Marquis of Tullibardine; Bydand,
that of Lord Lewis Gordon; and the appropriate signal words and emblems of many
other chieftains and clans.
    At length the mixed and wavering multitude arranged themselves into a narrow
and dusky column of great length, stretching through the whole extent of the
valley. In the front of the column the standard of the Chevalier was displayed,
bearing a red cross upon a white ground, with the motto Tandem Triumphans. The
few cavalry being chiefly Lowland gentry, with their domestic servants and
retainers, formed the advanced guard of the army; and their standards, of which
they had rather too many in respect of their numbers, were seen waving upon the
extreme verge of the horizon. Many horsemen of this body, among whom Waverley
accidentally remarked Balmawhapple, and his lieutenant, Jinker (which last,
however, had been reduced, with several others, by the advice of the Baron of
Bradwardine, to the situation of what he called reformed officers, or
reformadoes), added to the liveliness, though by no means to the regularity, of
the scene, by galloping their horses as fast forward as the press would permit,
to join their proper station in the van. The fascinations of the Circes of the
High Street, and the potations of strength with which they had been drenched
over